#but again on the other hand i kind of feel bad for my little brother for playing by himself

[osamucide]

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

[prongsx]

Favors in exchange for kisses

warnings: kisses, English its not my first language, small mention of blood. f!reader

1,5 K words

⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷《 ✮ 》⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷

You don't know exactly how you got into this situation with Jason. But you're not complaining.

It started months ago, when your long-time friend Dick Grayson heard you complaining about not having a place to live and mentioned that he knew someone you could trust to share an apartment with, with his brother, Jason Todd.

You were hesitant to accept, after all, you didn't know Jason Todd, but this was Gotham, and finding someone you could trust to share an apartment with was almost impossible. And it would only be for a while.So you went to live with Dick Grayson's brother.

Jason was kind of quiet, mysterious, and his blue eyes left you a little confused and breathless. It took you a while to be able to have meaningful conversations with him, it was hard to learn more about him, but little by little you won a small space in his life.You discovered his favorite books, learned his schedule, understood how sometimes he didn't want to talk, other times he was more open, and you learned to appreciate those moments when you both talked, laughed and smiled softly.

Then came the biggest problem.

Jason was too helpful.

You simply didn't know how to deal with someone who did so many acts of service. When he found out that banana pancakes were your favorite, he woke up early and cooked them. When you complained about that wood that was making noise in the living room, he fixed it immediately. Even when carrying your bag down the street, he would magically appear and hold it. Your coffee was always with those three drops of milk, just the way you liked it.

And when you tried to reciprocate, he seemed almost offended. Like the time you made a big meal, he was offended, you seemed tired from the effort and he didn't like that. Even when you cleaned his things he seemed irritated, you weren't supposed to do things for him.

After months of looking for ways to thank him for his helpfulness, you discovered it in an unusual way. Your room wasn't fully furnished, even months after moving in you were still buying furniture and needing to assemble it. Jason dismissed all the delivery people from the store and said he would assemble it himself, using the excuse that he didn't like strangers in his space.

"You spoil me," you joked with him, sitting on the floor as you watched Jason working on your new vanity. It wasn't a bad sight, Jason's large hands proving skillful and efficient, his t-shirt revealing his biceps that made you a little dizzy.

"I find doing manual labor relaxing." He replied, glancing at you and smiling slightly. You hummed in response, resting your chin on your knees and admiring Jason. You wanted so badly to find something to thank him for, something to show him that you were grateful for him.

When he finally finished the job, he stood up and held out his hand to help you. After gaining momentum, your hands instinctively went to his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Jay."

He was silent, you were silent. It seemed too intimate a touch, you were nervous, afraid he wouldn't like it, that he would ask you to never touch him again, which would be a shame because your hands could feel the heat of his skin. Then he smiled. He smiled, a dimple in his cheek.

"Nothing, princess."

After that, the touches became more frequent. Every time he did something adorable, you would touch his arms or his hand. Like the time he carried all your college books for meters and you held his hand in thanks (you stayed like that for longer than usual).

Another big step was when you arrived tired, from a horrible day, and you found Jason smiling shyly at you, the apartment smelling of your favorite food. As you washed dishes side by side, your hips touching, you lifted your feet and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you. His reaction was adorable, his neck slightly red, his eyes blinking at you in a silly way that made you smile back.

So you continued, becoming a little bolder every time he did something to please you. It seemed impossible now to go back to the time when you didn't touch him, and you could swear he liked it. There were times when you could almost feel him sigh when your kiss on his cheek went all the way to his jaw.

When he came back from patrol, bruised and bleeding, he wouldn't let you help him. He would never dirty your soft hands with his blood. But he enjoyed it when you sat next to him, stroking his hair and talking to him in that calm tone, trying to make him relax with more pleasant conversations. A routine was established.

Jason was a little quiet sometimes. At first you thought he was grumpy and moody, but you soon discovered that he was just someone with poor social skills, and you managed to establish a way to show that you cared about each other.

"Hum, I stopped by the pharmacy, but your order had already been picked up." You jumped, startled by Jason's sudden arrival. For such a big guy, he had an impressive ability to be silent. Damn Batman training.

"Jay, hi." You greeted, as you leaned on the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone. "Dick got it for me, he was just passing by."

He fell silent, making you look up from your phone to look at him. Jason's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips forming a frown.

"Why?" You blinked slowly.

"Why what?"

"Why Dick got it for you. I was going to get it for you." He looked almost... annoyed, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the product for you.

You blinked slowly again, tilting your head.

"He...was closer. I didn't mean to bother you."

He let out a huff, looking annoyed, like when a dog sees his owner reading a newspaper another dog brought.

"Jay?" You called out to him, almost shivering when his blue orbs stared at you.

"I'm the one who does your things. Why is that idiot Dick getting involved?"

"I don't want you to feel like you're my employee, that's all."

He huffed again, looking indignant. Another problem with Jason Todd: he didn't say what he was feeling, it was like trying to win the lottery with blurry numbers. Then he approached you, his posture looking like he was preparing to interrogate a criminal, his hands resting on the counter.

"Did you kiss him?"It certainly wasn't what you expected to hear. Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide.

"What?"

It was the only intelligent thing your lips formed.Jason still had that indignant look on his face, his blue eyes half-closed. He was too close and you felt a little cornered, the kitchen seemed small, the air harder to breathe. You stared back at him.

"Why do you think I kissed Dick?" You repeated, still that confused expression. You would be offended if your brain was working perfectly.

"You kiss me when I do favors for you!" He murmurs.

Oh. That was it.

You let out a breath, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

"Jason. Do you think I kiss the mailman every time he brings letters?"

"God, I hope not."

You both stay silent, your hands going to the hem of his shirt, unable to control yourself, squeezing it between your fingers, the weight of the unspoken words.

"Jay. You know...you don't have to do me favors to receive my affection, right?" You whispered, your eyes roaming all over his face, his beautiful features, his slightly crooked nose, his lips that looked so kissable.

"But I like it. I like taking care of you. Fuck, I want to take care of you always."

He himself seemed shocked by the intensity of the words, his eyes widening, his heart beating out of control, just like yours.

"Jay." You let out a breath, your hands rising to his face, caressing his cheekbones. You shivered when his hands held your hips, keeping you firmly against the counter. You didn't know what it would be like to kiss Jason, of course, you had already thought about it a lot, more than was healthy.

And when you finally pulled his face to you, pressing your lips, slightly chapped but still soft, against his. You dominated the kiss for a few seconds, being gentle as you held his face, but then something seemed to snap in Jason, he held you with impressive ease, pressing your hips against the counter and thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your soft moan. His hands were all over your body, hungry, as if he couldn't lose you.

"Only I can take care of you," he growled against your lips, his breathing heavy.

"Yes. yes," you said, caught in the haze of Jason's kisses, your eyes almost closing again.

"Good," he whispered, before kissing you again, fiercely, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

You were fine with this deal of favors in exchange for kisses.

⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷《 ✮ 》⊷⊶⊷⊷⊶⊷

Inspired by a post I saw about Jason's love languages headcanon. Jaybean is just a guy who doesn't know how to show love in a normal way!!! But we love him anyway. I hope you liked it! I'm very happy to start posting things here, slowly gaining courage.

[augustinewrites]

Ooh shit I had the worlds worst thought— Megumi snapping at Fushigojo mom OF ALL PEOPLE in the heat of some kind or argument or bad day or something and blurting out “you’re not my mom” and then just AAAH IT WOULD BE SO SAD ALL FOUR OF THEM WOULD BE HEARTBROKEN AND MEGUMI WOULD BE SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF 😭😭😭🕳️🚶‍♀️

things have been difficult since tsumiki had fallen into a coma.

it's hard not to feel her absence at home. the empty seat at the dining table, the untouched laundry left folded in the hamper. somehow she's everywhere and nowhere, and it hurts.

you and satoru are heartbroken of course, but you can't begin to imagine how megumi feels.

at first he'd been quiet. megumi had always been quiet, but this was different. the two of you used to sit in comfortable silence, content to read quietly in each other's presence. now he shuffles to and from his bedroom barely uttering a word, silence hanging heavy as you try to coax him into staying.

then his grades had started slipping. you weren't awfully concerned. his teachers had been sympathetic enough to exempt him from final exams, and excuse any late or incomplete papers. despite his record of delinquency, he's always gotten high marks.

you could excuse these things. the silence, the grades. he's a little brother missing his big sister, and he's hurting.

but now he was starting to act out.

picking fights at school, talking back to faculty, giving attitude.

you startle where you stand in the kitchen when the front door suddenly slams shut, revealing a grumpy looking megumi. he kicks his shoes off, making a beeline for his room without stopping to greet you.

satoru holds a hand up before you can ask, walking over to the genkan to fix the sneakers.

"what now?" you ask, wiping your hands on your apron when your husband returns, kissing your forehead.

"suspended indefinitely for fighting," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "he has to write an apology letter to everyone involved, and the headmaster said that next is expulsion."

"he can't keep doing this," you frown. "one of us needs to talk to him."

satoru is quick to touch the tip of his nose. "not it."

you roll your eyes (like megumi would, is that where he got it?) "yeah, it's probably best that you don't. he'd bite your head off."

he leans back against the counter, relieved. "yeah, i'd just— wait. you're doing that reverse psychology stuff on me again!"

feigning cluelessness is easy. "what are you talking about?"

"when you tell me i shouldn't do something and it makes me want to prove myself!"

"not my fault you're an incredibly prideful man."

"and just this once, i'll actually admit that talking to moody teens is not one of my many skills," he says. "this is your territory. you're the only one he might listen to. you've always been his favourite."

deep down, you know that he's right. you're the first one megumi goes to for everything. the first one he comes to with a new bump or scrape. the one whose side of the bed he squeezes into when he has a nightmare. the first one he talks to when he has a fight with a friend, or his sister...

you learned pretty quickly that megumi hated when people fussed over him (it came with his lone wolf tendencies) but he always let you.

so you steel yourself with a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door.

"megumi?" you call gently. "can i come in?"

you decide to take his muffled response as permission, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open.

megumi's sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest.

you close the door behind you. "thank you for letting me in."

he hums, peeking at you over his knees.

you sit on the floor across from him, rubbing your palms against your thighs. "i know that whatever we're feeling can't compare to how bad you're hurting, but we're worried about you."

"i'm fine."

"you're not, and you can't keep acting out at school."

"okay, i'll stop," he shrugs.

you should stop here. but you know megumi. he's only saying it because he knows that's what you want to hear.

you reach out, gently grasping his hand. "megumi, please. you can't keep this all in anymore. you always talk to me—"

"i don't want to talk about it," he snaps, jerking away from your touch. "can you just leave me alone?"

you flinch a little, surprised by the slight raise in his voice. he's never yelled at you. never snapped at you like that.

you're pushing too much, you realize. he's not ready to talk yet, you have to apologize.

"megumi, i'm—"

"just— just stop!" he shouts, expression stormy. "stop fussing over me, you're not my mom!"

to his credit, megumi looks like he regrets the words immediately, lips already shooting off an apology you can't seem to hear.

it does nothing to soothe the way your chest aches, full of hurt and a touch of betrayal. those words shouldn't hurt you as much as they do. he's right, you're not his mother.

but you don't even get to utter a word before the door swings open, a pissed off looking satoru striding into the room. shit. so he had been listening. "listen here you little shit—"

you stagger to your feet, stepping between your boys. "satoru, don't. don't! he's just upset."

"he can't talk to you like that!"

"let it go," you plead. "fighting is the last thing the three of us should be doing right now, okay?"

the three of you stand there for what seems like a lifetime, letting all the pain, frustration, and heartache fill the quiet apartment.

satoru shoots one last stern look around you before drawing a deep breath and focusing on you. you do the same as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumb swiping a stray tear away.

"we're just gonna give you some space, megs."

_____

"he didn't mean it," you remind satoru again that night, when sleep seems to be avoiding the both of you.

"i know. he still hurt your feelings though."

"well, he was right. i'm not his mom."

your husband tuts softly, reaching across the mattress and pulling you into his chest. "so what if you didn't give birth to them? you're something better because you chose them. you chose to love them and raise them when you didn't have to."

"of course i had to. they wouldn't have lasted a week in your care."

"oh? now who's being a little shit? i see where megumi gets his attitude from."

foreheads pressed together, the two of you laugh quietly. you feel light for the first time in weeks. the man holding you close, the boy sulking in his room, and the girl laying in the hospital.

they're your family, and you know they'll always love you as much as you love them.

waking up in the middle of the night to megumi squishing between you both (and satoru actually letting him) is as good a sign as any.

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

The Dragon and the Dragon-less

Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader

Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)

Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha

AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!

PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!

It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–

In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 

“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 

Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 

Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.

“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 

“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 

With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 

You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 

“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.

“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 

“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”

With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 

“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”

“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 

“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 

“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 

— — — — — — —

The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.

Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–

Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.

“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 

Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 

The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 

“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.

“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 

“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 

The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 

— — — — — — —

The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 

“And she is a–”

“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 

“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 

“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 

As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 

“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 

“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 

“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.

A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 

You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 

— — — — — — —

You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 

The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 

“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.

“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”

“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.

“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 

“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 

Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 

The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 

Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…

“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 

Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…

Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 

Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 

“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 

“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 

Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 

Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.

He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.

Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 

“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 

“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.

“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 

“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.

“My apologies, I should not have–” 

“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 

“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 

Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 

“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 

“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 

“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.

“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.

“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.

“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 

“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 

“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.

“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 

“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.

“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 

Tag List:

@ helaenaluvr  @ anukulee

[miley1442111]

Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)

i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0

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pinky promises-a.hotchner

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a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.

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It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 

“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.

“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.

“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 

Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 

“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 

Yet it had. 

“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.

“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 

What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.

“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 

“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 

“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.

Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.

“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”

“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 

Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 

“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 

“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 

“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 

“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”

Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 

What was the pinky promise?

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Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 

“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 

“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 

“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 

“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.

“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 

“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?

“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.

“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.

“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 

He loved you.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[taexoxosgf]

DO IT AGAIN

PAIRING brother’s best friend!park jisung x fem!reader

WORDS 3.7k

SYNOPSIS your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.

WARNINGS reader is tyong’s sister, jealousy, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

NOTES this smut is actually from a super long fic i posted on my old account! i’m not sure if i’m gonna post the whole thing because i’m cringing rereading it lol

“So, how’s your big bro’s parties? It’s better than frat parties huh?” Taeyong dangles the red cup charged with alcohol in front of your face just for you to swat away in annoyance. “No musty bathrooms and paint peeling off the walls! Woooooooo!”

You’re going to have to have a jolly time cleaning his vomit in the morning. “Stop drinking you little shit. I’m not gonna take care of you tomorrow, just so you know.”

He does a little dance that has you suppressing a laugh, “The night is still young! Loosen up a little! Won’t stop until you’re having as much fun as me!” Your brother is so out of it, that he bumps into a million corners of the home and an attendee urges him to the couch.

“Actually… I’m not feeling so good,” he shushes the person helping before running out of the main room.

“Oh my god,” you pinch the sides of your nose bridge, unable to understand how Taeyong’s motto is always all or nothing.

You're nothing near Taeyong's level of intoxication, and whether it's the devil on your shoulder or the drink, you want Jisung. Excruciatingly so. Whoever claimed that drinking made you act like a bitch in heat wasn't kidding. It's more than true now that you know he's nearby– wanting to look for Jisung because if he wasn't going to make a move tonight, you would.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls you, prompting you to turn around.

“Hyuck? Oh my god! How are you?” you’re already bringing your arms out for a hug and he’s quick to immediately accept.

You both went to high school together before he left for university thousands of miles away. He still texts you now and then, but due to the time difference, you never had the opportunity to properly catch up.

“Not doing too bad. It’s so good to finally talk face-to-face babe, holy shit,” he chuckles.

“How’s the East Coast? Did you find a girlfriend at Columbia yet?”

“Nah, you know me. Girls there are way too preppy for me. Plus, I can’t stand another minute of freshmen thinking they’re living through Gossip Girl,” he pretends to gag, swaying his body from side to side.

“Hey! Don’t hate. That show was ahead of its time,” you comment, brows raised.

“It IS! But I’m talking about the people acting as if they were a part of the show themselves. Like come on, you were probably five when it came out!” he exclaims.

​​"Fair enough," you nod. "You know who you should go for?" an idea flashes across your mind as you speak.

“Who?” he shifts closer, genuinely curious.

You wave towards you as another way of telling him to step even closer and cup your hand behind his ear before whispering, “Yuna.”

“What?! There’s no way!” he steps away, not expecting you would say your best friend’s name.

“Come on! You guys would look so hot together! What’s so ‘no way’ about that idea?”

Your old friend momentarily pauses, like he didn’t know what kind of question you asked. “She’d never go for me.”

“What? She used to have a crush on you! You were always around different girls so she never made a move,” you affirm. “You know how she was in high school,” you remind him of the girl who was once afraid to step out of her comfort zone.

“Are you serious? There’s no way that’s true! You’re straight up lying to my face right now,” he groans, looking as if he was going through a mental crisis due to the news.

“I swear on my Loubitons that it’s true! Just talk to her,” you point to the back door. “She’s in the backyard. I’m sure she would love to catch up.”

He brings a hand to his chin, soothingly rubbing with his index, “You do love those shoes…”

“More than myself, so come on! The times ticking!” you press him further, and his eyes light up when he realizes the words you’re feeding him might actually be true.

“You know what, fuck it.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Acting like a true alpha male!” you jump up and down, probably with more excitement than he has.

He chuckles at your words, “Okay. Okay. Let’s hang out and catch up this week. Let me know when you’re free.”

“Okay now go!” you try not to hold him back longer than he needs to be.

“I”m go-”

Before you can properly bid goodbye, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you away towards the narrow hallway of the home.

You see it’s Jisung after checking, and he’s definitely on a mission by the way he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he drags you through the hallway and finally halts his steps at the sign of your bedroom door.

“Jisung, what are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t let up on your wrist, and definitely doesn’t spare you a glance until you’re both in the room with the door shut behind your back. It’s almost pitch black in the room, and the only light source is the hallway lights illuminating underneath the crack of the door. Jisung finally lets go of your wrist when it’s just you two in your own space, and he brings that same arm above your head to anchor himself.

“Jisung.”

“Y/n,” his voice comes out hoarse, more playful. This was just what you wanted. He’s right here on a silver platter and you hadn’t even come close to building up the courage to approach him first.

Too bad you love to act dumb for the hell of it.

“What are you doing?” your eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, noticing how close his face was to yours. It was the perfect opportunity. Taeyong was probably passed out along with the loud music all throughout the house. There’s no way anyone could hear a thing from inside the room.

“Just wanted you to myself,” he comments. You can smell the alcohol on his lips, assuming it was the reason behind his impatience– but don’t think he’s drunk due to his coherent speech and careful movements.

“You have me to yourself now. So what is it?” you gloat, acting as if you don’t notice him struggling to control himself.

“Sorry, I took you away from your little boyfriend. Look’s like you guys were having fun,” you can hear the slight anger in his voice, jaw clenching following the statement.

You roll your eyes in order to suppress a grin, the alcohol influencing you to play games, “Hyuck isn’t my boyfriend, just an old friend. Remember him?”

He notices the hint of playfulness in your eyes, wanting to just fuck it out of you. But he’s waited too long to do this, and there have been too many interrupted moments, so he leans into patience for resolve. “Oh, I must have missed something babe.”

You shift your face closer to him to prove your point once again, “He calls everyone that! Go up to him, he’ll literally call you babe.”

“Hmm,” Jisung hums. “Should I call him Hyuck too?”

Your eyes shoot to his plushy lips, his jealousy turning you on, but you don’t back down just yet, “If you heard that, then you must’ve heard the part where I told him to go for Yuna.”

“I checked out the moment you were calling each other pet names, baby,” he leans his hips against you, eyes evident with desire even in the darkness.

“Well, it’s definitely different coming from you,” you give him what he wants to hear, but it’s ultimately the truth.

Jisung pulls back just to lean down against your ear, “Different, how?”

It’s like he knows the power he has over you when he’s using that tone, including the fact that you feel him between your legs only slightly hard. It’s definitely bigger than you previously thought, the excitement shooting to your core, “I’m not spelling it out for you, baby.”

The name has him bringing his face back to where it was before, cocking a brow. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Play games. Don’t fuck with me because if you are, I’m gonna lose it,” he seethes, all control he previously displayed being lost in an instant.

You began narrowing the gap between the two of you even more, your noses brushing against each other. Jisung falters slightly as you do so, his hand landing on your hip. He's noticeably less in control than when he initially encircled you in the room, taking in every inch of you as you jut your hips forward.

He groans, struggling to keep up with what you've been doing.

"I'm not fucking with you," you say, holding his chin with your thumb and index finger, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. "Just giving you what you want."

Jisung doesn’t know how you tempt while looking so innocent. If he’s being honest with himself, he never holds a sliver of command when you’re present. “You’re hot as fuck,” he mutters, trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

"You're hotter," your lips nearly touch at the movement. You're grinning ear-to-ear, but it's short-lived as Jisung grabs your nape and presses his lips to yours. This kiss is nothing like the previous one, and you want to drown in him. You press your mouth even harder on his, and he responds by positioning his entire weight against your body. You’re actually somewhat sober this time around and take notice of the piercing at the corner of his lips. The silver metal grazing over your lips provides a cold sensation to the hot atmosphere, and you push down a moan at the feeling.

He’s such a good kisser, it surprises you but doesn’t at the same time. The boy you used to know was so different than the one in front of you now.

When you set your arms around his neck to play with his locks, he grabs a hold of your waist. You're drowning, arching your back to relieve the tension in your body as the kiss deepens. Jisung licks your lips, and you easily accept his tongue, lips fighting against his. His tongue dances with yours, getting sloppier by the minute, ready to rip each other's clothes off.

He taps the back of your leg with his hand, signaling for you to jump. You do so without breaking contact with his lips, and he smiles against yours. The taste of alcohol in his mouth ignites something within you, along with the scent of his washed hair intertwined with the cologne he’s wearing.

Jisung slowly sets you down against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs before he pulls back for air. “You look submissive as fuck right now. Is that what you’re into? Being dominated?” he purrs, fingers playing with the waistline of your pants.

“Only if you like to dominate.”

The switch in his head flips, and he uses one hand to unzip your jeans to slowly run his fingers over your clothed clit. Your toes curl at the sudden pressure to your sensitive core that's been begging to be touched. The thin material of your panties doesn’t do much to shield his touch, but one thing’s for sure, if it feels this good, you can’t imagine how it’d feel when it’s not just a tease.

“Fuck,” you pant, moving your hands underneath Jisung’s shirt.

“What?” he asks, moving down to your neck. The sensation of his warm tongue against your neck has your skin igniting goosebumps all over. “I can’t hear you. Already falling apart?”

“N-no,” you stutter, knowing damn well that anything done to you will be the actual end. It seems like he wants to win the moment he brings his red and swollen lips back onto yours, sparing any niceties. He’s smothering you, ruthlessly kissing you to no end. But when you become lost in his lips once again, Jisung slips his hand underneath the band of your underwear to touch your pussy head-on.

“Jisungg,” you say against his mouth.

Of course, he doesn’t let up, circling your bud, knowing exactly where to touch you even though this is the first time you’ve done this with him. It’s nothing, but feels like so much, your thighs attempting to close around his hand.

He’s still attacking your mouth with his, fingers trailing in an up-and-down motion between your folds. It surprises you, and you moan against his mouth, unable to maintain the same pattern with your lips. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he lets go of your mouth with a pop, groaning at the arousal coating his fingers.

“Please, Jisung. I need you,” you whimper, unable to take any more of the mere seconds of pleasure he’s giving you. You don’t even look down as he slides your pants off along with your panties in one motion. He tsks, lowly enunciating a small, “So impatient.”

Without anything in the way, he doesn’t waste time plunging his fingers into your pussy, groaning at the way the muscle tightly clamps around his fingers– and it shoots straight down to your core, never getting enough of how deep his voice is.

The pleasure you’ve been trying to grasp is finally reached, a gasp spilling from your lips once he curls his fingers inside you. Your hands have found their way to his back, fingers digging deep into his skin and he hisses at the slight pain.

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs against your ear while his fingers begin to speed up in pace. You’re bucking your hips up, wanting to meet him halfway in order to reach euphoria. “I w-want it,” you cry.

“Want what?” he asks, voice too soft for the motions he’s enacting.

“Want you. Want you so bad,” you moan, throwing your head back when he hits a certain spot. It feels too good to stop, and every part of your body tingles at the pleasure.

You want to sob at the feeling it brings you, his fingers, mercilessly driving in and out of your cunt, while his thumb circles your clit. Your stomach feels tight from all the stimulation, and his body pressed against yours makes you feel hot all over. What you don’t notice is Jisung’s watching every movement on your facial features, loving the way your brows scrunch and how your pretty lips open up every time he hits a certain spot.

The band in your lower abdomen is on the verge of snapping, and the fact that he's above you doesn't help. Jisung's hair still falls perfectly, occasionally brushing the tip of his nose. He’s so fucking hot, you can’t hold back. You can't stop the orgasm from reaching your body simply by the way he feels on your body and looks above you.

“P-please,” you beg.

At the feeling of your pussy tightening around your fingers, he digs into your cheek, bringing your face back towards his. “Come on, you can do it. Cum,” he demands.

“F-fuck! I-I’m gonna–” you scream, body convulsing as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop his movements until you’re whining for him to stop. Pulling his coated fingers out, just to bring it to his lips.

As the climactic high wears off, your body becomes limp, but the image of Jisung bringing his plump lips to wrap around his fingers leaves you wanting more. You nearly squeak when he groans at the taste, letting go of his fingers with a pop. "Mmm," Jisung moans. "You taste so good."

“Here, have a taste baby,” he smirks, bringing those same digits to swipe motions at your core. You whimper at the sensitivity, the buzzing feeling still present. “Open,” he commands.

You listen, sticking out your tongue for him to insert them into your mouth. The wet muscle swirls around his fingers, finally closing around them, and you gag when he presses further into your mouth, teasing your throat. “Good girl.”

It’s so arousing that you intend to get up from your original position beneath him, but he catches your wrists and pins them over your head to keep you in place. Maybe it's the unfulfilled horniness from all the other times he’s tried to get you under him, but it's got you whining and squirming beneath him for his tolerance. “Fuck, it’s like you knew this was gonna happen,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off your body.

His hot breath fans against your face, “Did you?” He begins to trace the contours of your body, slipping underneath your shirt on his way up. “No,” it’s a weak response, body twitching when he starts massaging your breasts. You had just experienced an unearthly orgasm, but everything Jisung does just causes your cunt to clench around nothing, and it’s only once out of a million times since he walked through the door.

“Just fuck me,” you plead, feeling his thick cock prodding at the side of your thigh.

“You sure?” he asks once more for confirmation.

“Yes, now hurry,” your whine turns into a pout, and he chuckles at your impatience.

“Do you have a condom in your room?”

“Fuck no, I’m on birth control.” He groans at the information, already quick to tug his cock out of its confines.

And just like that, Jisung slowly inches his cock into you. “Oh,” you cry at the fullness. He’s stretching you out so well, and the slight burn just adds fuel to the fire.

“Holy shit,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” to ease the tightness, his fingers are already making their way back to your bud, circling in slow motions, “Relax for me pretty.”

You nod, eyes rolling back into your head when he slowly begins to move. “Fffuck,” he curses, his grip moving to your waist the moment your legs instinctively wrap around his. He feels so fucking good inside you and you regret with every ounce of your being you both didn’t do this sooner. You should’ve jumped him when you had the chance because fuck. How are you going to stop now? “You feel so fucking good,” he groans at the sensation.

“Ji–sung,” you moan, “Faster.” Your walls clench around his hard cock dragging against your walls, speeding up in pace and you fully lose it. The lewd sounds of skin slapping echo through the bedroom, and Jisung just swallows your pour of moans. He eventually listens to your request, practically nailing you into the mattress. It feels so good, the sounds coming from him, the feel of his cock pulling out, leaving the tip, just to roughly thrust back inside. You don’t know how much more you can take.

The thin silver chain he always wears around his neck dangles right before your eyes, and even in your fucked out state, you can’t stop looking at Jisung. The sweat on his forehead causes the front pieces to stick, the glow of sex already peeking through. “This is what you get,” he spits, but you can tell he’s slightly holding back. “This is what you get for all the times you fucking ran away. When I could’ve fucked you dumb like you want.”

Jisung’s name was the only thing coherent as he drills into you, squealing at a particular thrust of his hips. He’s so deep inside you, tip faintly against your cervix. “You’re cock’s s-so big,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision. The higher the tension builds in your stomach, the more Jisung continues to destroy you. “Jisung, fuck!”

“You like it hard huh? Want me to make your pussy mine?” His dirty words only have you holding onto him tighter, digging the heel of your feet into his spine. It’s too bad you can’t respond, your brain a puddle of mush at this point, cock going too fast for you to think about anything else. The bed frame knocks against the walls as the bed shakes but there’s no room to worry about that. Especially when he’s hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

“Answer me,” he grunts as your moans grow higher in pitch, unable to take it much longer.

“Y-yes, it’s a-all yours,” your body jolts after every movement, carving pleasure all over his skin. The thread that holds on for dear life is on the verge of snapping, and you wail before your second orgasm can send you crashing down.

It was so easy for Jisung to slide in and out of your pussy, your dripping arousal coating his cock perfectly. “Ji–” you attempt to warn him, but he already made his way back to your clit, pressing rough circles. You begin to babble random sounds, unable to form coherent words when he’s impaling you.

“Yes!” A shriek tears itself from your throat at your orgasm, and your toes curl at the high that takes over you yet again tonight. Your body spasms, and your mind stuck in a haze when he continues stuffing your achy cunt with him.

“Holy shit,” it’s almost impossible for Jisung to keep going when you’re clamping down on him like a vice, keeping him from completely being able to leave.

“Inside, cum inside, Jisung,” you plead when his hips begin to stutter. After a few more thrusts, he fully moans, painting your insides. “Fuck,” It feels even more full than before, if that was even possible and you whimper from the overstimulation from the last few movements. After his orgasm is at its resolution, he slumps into your form, not bothering to pull out.

You’re both just lying there trying to catch your breath, and it’s somewhat serene. The music combined with the vague sound of murmurs could be heard from outside and that’s when you remember that there were indeed a bunch of individuals present too. Maybe they heard you guys fucking, and Jisung seems to have similar thoughts when he raises his head to murmur something. “I forgot to lock the door.”

Your eyes shoot wide open in response, “What? Are you serious? Someone could walk in to you butt-ass naked!”

You’re actually alarmed, but he just stares back at you, his mouth turning into a wide grin. “Nah, I’m just playin',” he laughs.

You chuckle along with him, playfully slapping his shoulder because of his unseriousness. “You’re so annoying.”

“Get used to it baby, I’m not going anywhere.”

[stxrslut]

what happens when bbf!jj notices you crying in your room after none of your friends showed up to the sleepover you’d so tirelessly prepared.

he sighs and sits back on the couch as your brother walks out of the door to run some errand that apparently just couldn’t wait. this isn’t the first time hes been abandoned at your house, your brother doesnt care that he hangs around, and so sometimes he forgets that he needs to keep his friend company.

not that he doesn’t have a solution to his boredom in these times. when hes left alone, he comes to see you, his best friends cute little sister that he just adores so much.

today is not unlike any other, and so he gets up to find your room. though he notices something wrong. the sound of quiet sniffles are to be heard through the door.

he furrows his eyebrows in concern before he knocks on the door. he’s met with you calling out your brothers name in an irritated manner, “go away, I don’t wanna talk.”

he raises his eyebrows, hes never been around you crying before, but he supposes it’d be mean to just leave you to your misery, however it was caused. “uh, s'just me jj.. are you okay?” he calls through the door.

theres a beat of silence before the door unlocks and you appear infront of him. your cheeks are tearstained and eyes red as you sniffle pitifully. “hi jj...”

“woah, whats goin’ on with you?” he raises his eyebrows in surprise, sure he knew you were crying, but actually seeing it makes it seem more real, and he feels sorry for you.

you sniffle, “m’sad.” It’s a blunt statement, you know it, but it’s true. you’re devastated. everything today has just gone wrong.

“sad? n’why’s that sweetheart?” he lets himself in, sitting down on your bed now that a conversation has somewhat started up. he looks around to take in your decorated room, plus the extra two sets of blankets set up on the floor.

you wipe your cheek with the back of your hand, “nobody showed up t’my sleepover.” you murmur, “got everythin’ set up.. i decorated n'all..”

he frowns, “what kind of friends have you got then, standin’ you up like this?” he shakes his head dissaprovingly at the thought, how could they ghost a girl as sweet as you?

you shrug, “m’sure they all got good reasons...” you sniffle, “they’re not bad friends.” you’re not even sure if that’s the truth anymore. really, this sleepover had been a last ditch effort to get them to somewhat like you again.

“no, don’t say that.” he shakes his head, “f’they were good friends they wouldn’t have stood you up like this.” he has an irritate tick in his jaw now, though he pushes past it. he knows that his annoyance isnt going to do anything to console you. all you’d wanted to do was have a sleepover after all.

“look uh..” he sighs, scratching the back of his neck, “you got any.. activites? that you were wantin’ t’do or anything?” he looks a little lost, like he thinks he’s making a fool of himself.

you nod nonetheless, “yeah actually.. I made a face mask to do.” you tilt your head, wondering if he’s about to say what you think he might be.

“look im about to totally embarrass myself here but uh.. you wanna do it with me? y'know... t’make you feel better.” he’s got a tentitive smile on his face.

you giggle softly, “what about my brother,” you ask, “won’t he be missing you in the other room?”

he shakes his head, “nah, he left to run some errand ages ago.” he smiles again, “so, what d'you say about that face mask? just to warn ya I ain’t savvy with all this beauty stuff.”

you giggle, not quite believing that the jj maybank is offering to do something so 'girly'. “okay then, i guess I’ll have to show you the ropes.”

[wondersinwaynemanor]

imagine some Gothamites pretending to be in trouble or hurt and calling for a specific bat just because they have a crush on them, but the batkids purposely mess it up by sending another bat.

they also do this because they're little shits.

[i told myself i won't make this too long, but oh well]

scenario 1:

a woman, who's not even in trouble, she mostly wants to see Nightwing's new suit because.. oh.. the new suit causes his behind to form well.

Woman: Nightwing, Nightwing! Where are you? I need help.

Robin! Tim, hops down from the tall building and mind you, his skateboard tucked under his arm: Hi, Ma'am! Sorry, Nightwing is unavailable tonight. I, Robin, will help you.

Woman, judges the skateboard before looking at Tim: Uh. Thank you, Robin, but I was specifically asking for Nightwing. Is he- he around?

Robin! Tim, cheeks red from the cold, shakes his head: No, Ma'am. Sorry.

Woman: That's... That's okay. I'll figure out my problem on my own. Thank you again, kid.

Robin! Tim nods at her way before climbing back up the building.

Nightwing appears from the darkness, laughing his ass off. Tim joins his older brother until their stomach ache from the laughing session.

--

scenerio 2:

young teenage girl with pink highlights on her hair bikes through the neighborhood and out of nowhere, just falls down on the side of the road, on the grass. but gently. purposely.

Teenager, holds her ankle: Ow, ow. Is The-The Signal around? I kind of.. Uh... Fell.

Robin, comes out from the trees and he looks even brighter than ever with the sun still out: That was kind of careless of you.

Teenager, a bit annoyed: Robin? Don't you only patrol at night? Where's The Signal?

Robin, adjusts his katana and shrugs: You'd be surprised that I happen to do this at morning too. Well. Occasionally.

Teenager, skeptical: Uhuh.

Robin just stares at her, not even answering about The Signal. it makes the teenager a bit uncomfortable.

Teenager, manages to stand: Anyways... I think I feel better now. I'll head home.

Robin, lips twitching to a smirk: Stay safe.

behind the trees, Duke and Tim giggle like little children.

Robin: I must admit.. That was quite hilarious.

--

scenario 3:

two loud men exit the bar. they've been talking about Spoiler and Black Bat inside, fangirling like teenagers about their crushes.

little did they know, Red Hood was inside that bar as well.

Man 1: Fuck, I'm too drunk. Is Spoiler there? I need help to go home.

they are not even drunk.

Man 2, hides a smile behind his hand: How about Black Bat? We poor men need some saving.

before they can even lift their mouths to laugh, Red Hood apprears from the alley, gun on his hand.

Red Hood, voice so deep from the helmet: Need a lift, boys? There's enough room for both of you on my bike.

Man 1 gulps and Man 2 nearly passes out.

Red Hood, smirks: Not the person you wanted to see, huh?

Man 1: Uh.... You are a sight to see, Red Hood. Uh, Sir.

Man 2: But no, tha-thank you.

Man 1: We can manage. Right, dude?

Man 2: Right. Of course.

Red Hood, wants to laugh so bad but he has to keep this persona first: Well, let me know if you need anything.

both men run to the other direction. one of them even trips.

Red Hood hears Steph and Cass' lively laughs through the comms.

--

scenario 4:

a young adult man steps outside his building, doesn't mind the drizzle from the Gotham sky.

Man: Shit. I forgot my keys.

Man, looks up at the building: Is Red Robin out there? I need help in finding the keys to my apartment.

there's no sign of the vigilante so the man decides to just re enter his building.

out of nowhere, a sound of someone landing behind him makes him turn around and he is faced with Black Bat, holding his keys around her gloved hand.

Man, shocked: Um.. Hey. You found- you found my keys.

Black Bat doesn't respond, just lifts the keys higher.

Man: Tha-thank you.

Black Bat nods before grappling to the darkness.

the young man feels stupid for doing what he did, which is throw his keys behind the dumpster. and he didn't even get to see Red Robin.

somewhere, Black Bat joins Spoiler and Red Robin on top of a building to share some laughs and enjoy some Batburgers.

--

scenario 5:

a couple of bestfriends, woman and man, stop by at the side of the road. they were gossiping about Red Hood's arms, modulated voice and height, saying how sexy he looks.

out of stupidity, the man stabs his switchblade on one of the wheels of his car.

Woman, nods at him before calling for help: Someone help us! We don't have a spare tire.

Man, heart beating so fast: Red Hood, can you please help us? Red Hood!

after a few minutes of longing, Nightwing, Spoiler and The Signal appear from behind their car, startling the two of them.

Nightwing, grins cheekily: Good evening.

Signal, smiles: You called for help?

Spoiler, huge smile on her face with a spare tire on her hand: Glad we saw this lying around.

it's actually a spare tire at the back of the man's car.

the woman and man exchange glances, slightly nervous.

Man, touches his chest: Oh, thank goodness.

Woman, pretends to be in relief as well: Thank God for you, guys. We appreciate it.

Signal and Spoiler help each other in putting the tire.

Nightwing, grin hasn't faded: Sorry, the Red Hood is a bit busy tonight.

Signal: Maybe try calling out for him some other time?

Spoiler: We would give his number to you, but he's kind of a private person.

both the woman and man blush, embarassment creeping on them.

by the alley, Red Hood watches the rest of the batkids, a low chuckle on his lips.

--

a bonus:

a bunch of teenagers play around under the rain, splashing mud on their clothes. one of the blonde girls call out, "Robin, come play with us!" then the rest of her playmates giggle at that. they idolize the young hero.

and who comes out of the darkness? the rest of the batkids except for Robin. they make sure that the children are able to go home and are safe.

meanwhile, Damian is at the Manor with a stuffy nose as he is sick due to playing with his pets under the rain last weekend.

[ybklix]

𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖚𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑

★ pairing: subneedy-slightly inexperienced!felix x horny fem!reader

✦summary: Temptation and lust take over Felix when he meets you; he is a young adult with an angel face who really is an angel, he is a naive and kind man who moves to a new neighborhood and has to change his usual church as it is part of his routine and hobby. You have an angel face with intense feelings and hidden thoughts worthy of the red bad man from hell himself, you can't wait to satiated your deepest desires with the new pretty boy you met at church. Making Felix sin, over and over again.

♡ warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, daddy kink, teasing, handjob, masturbation, oral sex, sex in the church (sorry), boobplay, multiple orgasms, fingering, faceriding, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, slight aftercare.

word count: 8.2k (i may need to learn how stfu)

MASTERLIST — TAGLIST FORMS

𓆩❤︎𓆪 warning: mention of religion and religious objects, without ofending anyone I hope.

;༊ playlist: only angel by harry styles ๋࣭ ⭑ gods & monsters by lana del rey ๋࣭ ⭑ god is a woman by ariana grande ๋࣭ ⭑ religion by lana del rey

dividers by fairytopea & anitalenia

❝𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧❞ ❦

Oh, sweet lord, you thought. You couldn't take your eyes off him, from the moment he stood in that sacred place to read the Sunday mass reading, you watched every detail like a predator guarding its prey. After so many years of accompanying your parents as a family tradition, the mass was finally getting interesting. Oh, amen, amen.

The man returned to his seat, right in the front seats so you could only see his long, dyed blond hair combed into a man bun from a distance and in detail. You were seated next to your parents in the middle of the seats, the ceremony continued, until it finally ended and… between a little yawn, you waited for the people to gradually leave, without losing sight of the blond boy; you noticed that he didn't leave either, usually your family stayed until the end since they were such a well known and respected family, your parents greeted and said goodbye to each of the people who attended the church that Sunday, from the usual people, to the new ones, so you waited for the boy to come closer, besides your father was the older brother of the priest of the church.

Finally, no one was left, just the few other families talking outside the church, and the blond boy talking to your uncle, until finally they both approached you, who were outside the church. You watched him closely from top to bottom looking at every detail of him, he was so cute, he had a beauty that caught you instantly, he was slim, delicate features, big lips and eyes, you noticed the delicate freckles spread under his eyes down his cheeks and nose, looking so innocent, he looked like a nerd, totally your type, he looked like at any moment he was going to correct you of your mistake with a 'actually', with his white diamond pattern vest, a short sleeved shirt underneath, his beige pants with a belt and his big glasses with a square shape, who the fuck in the 21st century dressed this conservative, he simple was cute.

“This is Felix, he just moved to the neighborhood, so now he comes to this church, he used to go to another church in another district, honestly I'm happy we can keep him” your uncle commented, amused and with a smile, introducing the blond boy who looked shy.

Felix, you repeated in your head, interesting name. He smiled shyly and sweetly.

“Nice to meet you, my pleasure, I'm really new to the neighborhood” he spoke, surprising everyone except your uncle, who already seemed to know him, with an incredible thick voice, not matching his angelic face.

Felix shook your parents's hands and then it was your turn, you took his soft, medium sized hand as you smiled at him, you didn't think your gaze was heavy, until you noticed Felix swallowed saliva nervously at the sight of you as he shook your hand, marking his notorious Adam's apple on his throat. You went back to watching him without missing any detail, from his few, slightly noticeable roots in his hair, to the delicious, delicate veins marked on his slender arms with soft hair. He wore a ring with crosses on his right index finger and another cross necklace. You couldn't help it, you had him in your sights, he was so cute you couldn't help but think of him in such dirty situations, maybe you were just ovulating, or you really wanted to fuck him.

Felix felt a little uncomfortable, your gaze was more than obvious and penetrating, but Felix didn't finish deciphering it, he didn't want to think that someone pretty would see him with such evil eyes.

“A pleasure Felix, we are the priest's family, this is our daughter, Y/N” your father spoke, "Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You smiled at Felix, now innocently but mischievously now that he knew your name.

“She's in college, I know she's young and baby-faced” your mother hastened to say, recognizing that Felix was a cute boy who looked close to your age.

You couldn't even turn to look at your mother moodily, your eyes were glued to Felix.

“Felix will give little catechesis to the children and Y/N, I think Felix can guide you to teach you the bible, so you can teach soon” advised your uncle and priest.

You blinked suddenly, perplexed that fate was in your favor.

“Of course, uncle, I'd love to” you replied, more than happy, without wiping off your smile and looking straight at Felix.

Felix wanted to sweat… he recognized that he liked you instantly, wearing your pretty floral sundress, exquisitely marking your silhouette and breasts, your very feminine appearance, your light make-up, hairstyle hair and sweet scent, you drove him crazy and… he rarely had female contact.

“Oh, of course she'll be there” added your mother, also happy that you could meet a nice and cute church boy.

“Oh, our dear Felix is a very good Samaritan, he just came back from volunteering, but his life duties called him” your uncle commented.

Cute, handsome and truly a good person, he just lacked some damn wings and halo for him to start flying, you thought.

“Oh, Felix, what are you doing on Friday? Let us welcome you to the neighborhood” spoke your father.

“I'd love to” Felix replied cheerfully.

“Friday at our place, we'll cook something delicious for you, I'll send you the address and Y/N… you'll see him on...” commented your father.

“Wednesday and Thursday” Felix quickly replied, which surprised you, “In the afternoon if you can, because of the university and thank you for the invitation, sir.”

“I'll be there” you replied to Felix, smiling at him, with such a dark look that only he could decipher.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Wednesday. Your horniness calmed down a little bit from monday to wednesday, you thought that maybe you were over exaggerating with Felix, that he really was a nice and cute guy, and that you should stop with the sudden dirty thoughts that crossed your mind. You walked into the small room, compared to the rest of the place, of the church where Felix would give you lessons on how to interpret bible verses and readings to train you to give lessons to the kids too, honestly, every year since you turned eighteen, your parents and uncle would insist you to support them with those little lessons to the kids so they can do their communion and confirmation but… you always ignored them and, it was until with Felix you were completely hooked and engaged.

You walked in quietly, apparently there was no one in the church and you didn't want to make noise and, you died of tenderness to find Felix on his knees, praying. He really was a bible eater, you thought, you didn't understand why you were suddenly so turned on by the fact that he was such a nice, good boy. You saw him in silence, apparently he didn't notice your presence, he was still concentrating, holding a rosary in his hands. Five minutes later, he finished, he crossed himself and opened his eyes and stood up, he saw you standing at a distance looking at him, which surprised him a little.

You smiled at his reaction, he was really concentrating on praying.

“Hi” you said to him, setting your bag down on one of the tables in the place, moving dangerously close to him.

Felix rubbed his hands, instantly sweating, on the denim of his jeans, nervous. The truth was… Felix liked you so much that he didn't know how to react, it was silly, but he was a bit naive to believe in love at first sight, he was convinced that what he felt with you at first sight was an inexplicable connection and the poor guy couldn't control his emotions and his little body excited at the mere sight of you. His heart was pounding and he was blushing slightly. Felix hadn't flirted with a woman in years, he was 24 years old and only dedicated himself to his job as a programmer and in his free time he adored with an incredible passion the church, but he got a wonderful job so he opted for a neighborhood closer to the place, so… girls and relationships was something that without realizing it, he started to displace from his life, until you arrived.

“Hello” nervously replied Felix in a low tone.

My god, you loved his voice. You adored him, you wanted to do all the cheesiness in the world in public and the dirtiest obscenity in private. Again, you were horny.

“I see you went ahead, you prayed without me” you told him slowly, trying to have a conversation.

You were definitely going to seduce him today. You just wanted to see his reaction and make sure if he also wants to play along and take it somewhere else.

“You w-want to pray?” he replied nervously.

You lifted your shoulders, with an impish grin, “Mmhum, why not” you got down on your knees in front of him without breaking eye contact.

You held onto his leg a little and were left in such a compromising position, right in front of his cock. Felix cleared his throat and took a step back instantly, so surprised by your action, you innocently closed your eyes, as if you had done nothing, raised your chin proudly and clasped your hands together.

Felix wasn't an idiot, but he chose to believe you did it without thinking, he believed so much in the goodness of people, it wouldn't fit in his head that someone so pretty, educated and family oriented suddenly behaved strangely, with double meaning. You pretended to pray, you were not concentrating, you asked god for forgiveness for just thinking of all the shapes and colors Felix's penis could be, while you were supposed to be praying. You stayed like that for a few minutes, not getting tired, you were young and your knees were strong. Felix saw you, with such a straight posture as you prayed, you wore a short white clingy skirt, so short he could almost see little fabric of your pink panties, Felix's heart pounded again… he hadn't analyzed you, you wore a tight top, marking your breasts and showing your navel… he watched you dumbfounded, as if he had never seen a woman before.

You felt his gaze, who would have thought that with his soft looks, he also had a penetrating gaze, you half opened one eye, managing to see blurred that he was licking his lips. You finished, stood up nimbly, almost forgetting to cross yourself from your fake prayer, wiped your bare knees and watched him cheerfully, almost waiting for a command from him.

“Aham” cleared his throat once more Felix, trying to avert his gaze from you, “You have… background knowledge of how to read the bible?”

You nodded, bored, it really wasn't the kind of relationship or lessons you wanted from him. You sat down on the bench, patting your side and inviting him to sit down. Felix picked up his heavy book and sat down next to you, nervous about your closeness. He saw your bare thighs, your skirt getting shorter… after all, Felix was a man entitled to feel, and his body was reacting on its own, he quickly placed the heavy bible on his lap, trying to hide his growing erection he felt so painful, he felt guilty and surprised, he knew he liked you… but seeing you suddenly show a little more skin, turned him on too much.

You noticed Felix, flushed, nervous and with his ears red.

“H-honestly I didn't prepare a class itself, I don't know what priest Kim was referring to, if you occupy any guidance let me know” he spoke, without looking you in the eyes, looking down at the floor.

You sought his gaze, but he was unwilling to look at you, you laughed in disbelief.

“I don't know what he meant either, I only said yes to spend time with you” you said, suddenly, exciting him more with your voice.

You slowly noticed the tension in the room, you were surprised how fast it was going to work with Felix, all you have done is dress in short clothes, you hadn't even made a proper innuendo to him and he looked like he was already struggling with himself, you thought it was amazing, when you really make a move on him he would explode, you thought, you had barely been there a little over 10 minutes and his pretty freckles were tinged with red under his cheeks.

Felix felt pity, shame, and so much guilt, but he could not control himself, his erection was growing more and more and his body was excited, he was not thinking clearly, suddenly lust was filling his body… he thought, what kind of magnetism you must have to put him like this and if, it really was a divine test not to fall into temptation, you were a very tempting and beautiful demon, that Felix would be willing to give himself completely if you continued.

He was so needy, he wasn't a virgin, he lost his virginity when he was eighteen with his first girlfriend, then he had another one at twenty… but the sex was so smooth, so simple and vanilla, but you, oh Felix thought how incredible you must be sexually. Everything about you said so, said you would know how to please him, your confidence, the sway of your hips and your subtle tone and suggestive looks. Felix was losing his mind.

“I want to know more about you” you opened your eyes excitedly, telling him, to which he finally looked into your eyes.

“What do you wanna know?” he asked, in agony, wishing his pain would end soon, his throbbing cock drowning in his tight jeans.

You went back to admiring Felix, he was again wearing his glasses and now had a half ponytail, leaving some of his long hair loose.

“I don't know… what do you do for a living, how old are you…?”

Felix wanted to let out a sigh, but didn't want to look too obvious.

“I'm a computer programmer” you looked at him attentively, waiting for a more concrete answer, “I repair them and install important programs to companies” he added, in a strangely deeper voice than usual.

You looked at him with admiration, he really was a little nerd trapped in an attractive body and face, you would not be surprised if he was a virgin…. or… you bit your lip at the thought that maybe behind his innocent appearance could be an insatiable monster. You also thought about how nimble he would be with his hands.

Felix was normal, a gen Z boy with a job, he grew up in a family environment where his parents always let him express himself widely with who he is and explore his persona, that's why he feels free to dye his hair but he chose the church as a hobby, he adored it with passion, he was religious and wasn't afraid to admit it… however just now he felt like the most vile and sinful being on the planet, he felt dirty, promiscuous and lustful, falling into temptation.

“And you…?” added Felix, standing up suddenly, turning his back to you, to move away. He could no longer stay close to you without his member aching.

Felix regretted it though, now he didn't know how to hide his erection, you instantly followed him, stood up and moved closer to him.

“I don't want to talk about me, I just want you to talk about you” you replied, seductively as you frowned.

You found his attitude strange, almost sweating, he turned his body, for the way his hands clung to the big book, glued to him, curious, you moved his arms, trying to push the book away, but his grip was strong, you looked him in the eyes quickly, in sign of what he was hiding, Felix felt trapped and with embarrassment, he let you take the bible from him, leaving it on the table next to him and surprising you by noticing that your new church instructor was aroused, reflecting with a bulge in his pants, hard.

You bit your lip, so surprised that you literally didn't lift a finger.

“Oh wow, you're seriously excited about preaching the word of the lord” you teased, watching as he increasingly pulled back and held from the desk, pinning his body to the wall, his pronounced Adam's apple quivering nervously, “You're seriously excited” you whispered, bringing your hand to his erection, stroking it.

“P-please don't” he requested, in a halting, excited sigh, “There's people outside. Stop.”

“Actually we're alone, it's the priest's nap time and the night watchman doesn't arrive until eight, the janitor doesn't work on Wednesdays” you told him again teasingly, with a smug smile.

Felix gasped, as he felt your hand squeeze his bulge, you moved up to his chin, watching in detail his thick lips half open.

“Stop” he whimpered.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me to really stop and I will” you commanded, searching his gaze but he never dared to look at you.

Your smile widened, as did the swelling of Felix's cock, he felt so needy and you were incredibly attractive as to be true, it was obvious that deep down, you awakened his sexual appetite that he thought he had put on pause, or at least know how to control.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” you said again teasingly, but excitedly, your panties were starting to get soaked and sticky, you would do anything to feel his heart shaped lips brush against your pussy just now while pulling on his long soft hair.

Felix didn't respond, he just let out a held back moan, all his muscles were tense, all of him was tense, he needed to relax, and you noticed it.

“Why are you like this, Felix? I just want to make you feel good” you told him almost in pleading, with a slight pout and with sparkling eyes, Felix saw your eyes again, finding your pretty and angelic look so demanding and hot, “You can de-stress with me, come on” you smiled mischievously.

And the next thing you did was to remove your top and bra in one swift movement, leaving your young, round breasts in full view and at Felix's mercy. Felix looked at you in fright, and then at your garments which you set aside on the desk.

“No, no, no, no, put that back on” he said nervously in a low voice, reaching for your clothes with his hands.

You quickly caught his hand, then the other, leading them both to touch your breasts, Felix didn't remove himself, he was carried away by the sensation of your hard nipple brushing his palm, he bit his lips, incredibly aroused, able to cum just by touching your tits.

“Just touch me and de-stress a little, aren't they soft?” you gasped.

Very soft, Felix thought, grabbing them with more confidence and squeezing them, massaging them delicately enjoying every second, he had never felt boobs like that, he never thought they would turn him on so much either… his former sexual relations consisted of sizzling kisses, him caressing his penis and then entering his ex-girlfriend's vagina, Felix did not know the slow, wicked and delicious art of foreplay. You gasped as you felt him enjoy your tits and took your hands off him, down to his pants.

“May I?” you asked innocently playing with the button of his pants.

“Yes, please” Felix gasped, needy.

At this point temptation got the best of him, he hadn't even fucked you yet and he was already empathizing with Adam and Eve for tasting the forbidden fruit, it just felt so fucking good, his body was shaking, his cock was pumping and the adrenaline had him on edge.

You smiled, so prettily that Felix wanted to melt, you looked so pretty with your cheeks flushed, your lipgloss and eyelashes curled and a look so dark and evil. Felix thought you were definitely an angel, one cast out of heaven for misbehaving, banished to earth, ready to torture men.

You bit your lip and quickly pulled down his pants, seeing his hard cock between his boxers, you sighed in surprise, so what you had expected… you stroked him over the fabric, taking in from his balls to his entire length trapped in his boxers and, with such a hungry look, you pulled down his underwear, freeing his stiff cock, as cute and needy as he was. You sighed, it was better than you could have imagined, it wasn't small, let alone monstrously huge, it was perfect for filling your pussy to the bottom and moving it without pain. Its pink, sensitive tip was already covered in its glistening precum and the rest of its length was a more slightly tan color, covered in veins. You needed it inside you, now. You took him between your hands, his cock throbbed just like your wet pussy, you would love to get down on your knees and suck him off, but you knew Felix would get so carried away he would lose awareness of his surroundings and you needed to be alert, after all you were in a church where you were supposed to study the bible, anyone could walk in.

And you watched Felix so needy with his red sex and hands squeezing your breast, just this time, you would make him cum in your hand, just because he was a pretty boy and you wanted his nice shiny cum in you, making a mess.

You couldn't help but let out a slight teasing giggle, honestly it wasn't the kind of thing you did, you rarely had sex with college guys because you were very selective with who you let yourself go and satisfy yourself sexually, it wasn't like you went around wanting to suck the cock of any cute guy you could find like you did with Felix either, there was something about him that held you captive.

Felix felt your giggle in every part of his being, the vein in his neck began to exalt and his grip on your breasts became tighter as he felt your hand gently play with his foreskin and then run it up and down his length. Felix moaned, his voice thick, so loud it terrified him that anyone could have heard him.

Your gaze focused on his cock and then you looked into his eyes as you found your pace, pulling on it, stroking it up and down, giving attention to his testicles, teasing his glans with his slippery precum, moving it at your mercy as if it were a toy and a rigid joystick as you watched him with a haughty grin. Felix was struggling with all his might, thinking of nothing but the incredible sexual pleasure you were giving him, gasping in a deep voice "Oh, god" and you felt him so close, his body twitching and his sex throbbing and agonizing for release.

“Cum for me, daddy, please, fill my hand with your cum” you whispered to him, not resisting any longer and moved in to kiss him.

You wondered why you didn't kiss him before, so desperate were you both that you forgot to feel his sweet lips before the dirty act. His lips trembled and let out a sigh, suddenly Felix had cum in your hand, spilling all his glory all over you, you felt his thick warm liquid, you would have loved to see his needy tip expelling his semen, but you were so focused on his lips, you smiled and kissed him again, his lips as soft and sweet as cotton candy, he followed your kiss, embarrassed to have his cock exposed, still he enjoyed your nice romantic kiss, almost making him fall in love with you.

He felt so sorry and guilty, but there was no doubt you would know how to treat him so well. You were still still horny and wet, but you were not crazy enough to ride his cock in a church room, you could wait for him, if it's for Felix you would be so patient with your good boy.

˚₊‧꒰Ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The next day came, you were so excited about your second encounter with Felix, you wanted to feel his throbbing sex in you again, you wanted to see his every reaction, so needy for your touch with his delightful gasps in the background. However your plans came crashing down when your uncle called, saying Felix couldn't attend which disappointed and upset you, you understood that poor Felix must have been embarrassed, his whole pretty head must have been over thinking all night, but he didn't have to, you want him and you are willing for him to get to fucking heaven if he wants to touch you and you were going to make it clear to him if you should continue… or if he really wants you to stop.

Felix knew he could have sex, like any normal person, but really after not having sex for a while he thought he would be saving himself more eagerly for the woman he would take to the altar of the church; but what hurt him most was that he did such a grotesque act in the presence of god, in his house, he was so tormented that he did not know how to remedy himself, neither praying 100 rosaries, nor going to confession would make the guilt leave his sinful little body.

On Friday he couldn't escape his already agreed welcome to the neighborhood, so he had to see you no matter how much he avoided you. That Friday Felix gave his first catechism class to the kids and went home to shower and get ready, where, in his shower he thought of you all the time, he thought of you in his vulnerable moments, he thought of you the night you touched him, and he touched himself and now he was masturbating to your image in his shower, pulling on his needy cock as if he were a horny teenager, he couldn't help it, he was suddenly full of you.

Felix rang your doorbell nervously, fixing his long hair and clothes almost shaking and letting out a sigh, you ran to your door; as soon as you left the university you rushed to get ready to see Felix again. You opened the door and found him, once again with his half ponytail, big glasses and wearing all white, white jeans, white shirt, and a thin jacket as an accessory.

“Welcome” you said to him with a big smile, letting him pass.

Your whole family greeted Felix, your mother's sister, your aunt, your parents, and your uncle, priest of the local neighborhood church. Your mother suggested Felix to wait a bit in the living room while she served dinner, you followed Felix, sitting next to him, this time you were dressed more modest, still wearing a short skirt, but not enough to show your butt. You wanted to whisper so many things to Felix, but your father was there, asking the poor boy if he was interested in football. Dinner was ready, which saved Felix from your father's conversation and your closeness, everyone washed their hands and, he took a seat as sweetly your mother instructed him and you, who saw your little sixteen year old cousin with every intention of sitting next to the pretty boy in the only available seat next to him, pushed her, to which your aunt sweetly said “Oh, Sally, come sit here.” Your parents were at the ends of the table, your uncle the priest, your mother's sister, and your cousin, sitting across from you at the sides of the table, you and Felix alone. Felix wanted to let out a half-hearted sigh at having you near, but tried to forget all thoughts and focus on a nice healthy dinner.

“Let's pray for food,” your mother said.

Everyone put their hands together and closed their eyes, you did it last managing to see how everyone at the table did, you prayed, oh god forgive me for what I will do, but I can't stop.

You waited for Felix to stop praying, you didn't want to be so mean and interrupt him in his sacred moment of prayer and, when you saw him tenderly open his big round brown eyes, you dropped your hand on his thigh caressing it. Felix opened his eyes, surprised, but he didn't want to show a stronger reaction since he was in the presence of more people, but that never stopped you.

He slyly lowered his hand, stopping yours, again not allowing you to take him into forbidden territory, but he had to pretend to eat, so he took both cutlery while your hand started stroking his member and, like magic, Felix slowly got hard in such a short time, Felix over bit the fork, almost sighing, which caused the attention of the others at the table.

“The food is delicious” he excused himself embarrassed with his red face and a smile.

You were teasing him so much, you squeezed his marked penis in his pants, it was so much fun to feel it, you wanted to sit on it, rub yourself on it, run your face in it, you wondered desperately when it would finally happen. You decided that you tortured poor Felix when you saw him so needy, struggling with not panting, with a smile you pulled your hand away and just kept watching him out of the corner of your eye. But the excitement wouldn't stop or leave Felix's body, he didn't know what to do, everyone was finishing dinner, ready to move from the table, but once he stood up, a visible erection in his pants would be present, leaving him looking like a pervert.

You checked your Felix again, still hard, you looked at him with tenderness and compassion, thinking that the poor guy must and must have suffered a lot.

“Felix and I will clear the table” you went ahead to say.

“But what are you talking about, he is a guest, let your cousin help you” your mother replied, getting up from the table.

“Mary, leave Y/N alone with the boy…” your aunt whispered half-jokingly to your mother, “Don't worry dear, we'll be in the living room, I'll play the piano for a while.”

Felix felt the slightest bit of relief to see the people leave, so he could go towards the bathroom embarrassed trying to calm down…. but he saw you, so attractive and with an arrogant smile, which infuriated him a little, it infuriated him that you can play with him whenever you feel like it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Felix claimed to you, annoyed, which surprised you quite a bit.

You both stood up from the table and proudly saw his outstanding erection caused only by your minimal frictions.

“We can sneak out to so I can help you with that, daddy” you whispered to him, approaching him ready to stroke him again but he stopped your wrist tightly.

“Don't even think about it and don't call me daddy. Where is the bathroom?” he said again annoyed and domineering, confusing you.

You pointed him where to go and, you didn't know if you were more turned on by his unexpectedly domineering attitude… or if you really pissed him off and had ruined your chances.

Felix ran to the bathroom and cursed internally, every inch of his cock ached, and he cursed you too for being a pretty promiscuous girl driving him crazy, he thought there was no other choice but to make himself cum, so he pulled down his pants and underwear and started to jerk off holding back his every gasp, Felix took his thick swollen cock in his medium sized hands, so sensitive it almost made him shudder, thinking it could be your hands pleasuring him and began to stroke himself frantically bringing him to orgasm, biting his lip hard and throwing his head back in pure pleasure, almost crying. His sixth masturbation since he met you, one after your first encounter, three on Thursday, one before he came to see you and…. one just now in your mothers guest bathroom. Felix dropped all his semen into the toilet and flushed the handle hard followed by washing his hands frantically and maniacally as if he was trying to clean up blood from a atrocious crime he had just committed.

You disappointed, on the other hand, went to listen to your aunt play, until you felt Felix's fresh fragrance and presence next to you, he had decided that he didn't want it to stay that way and that, after all, he was still a normal 24 year old male, in every right to explore his sexuality and, you were cute, close to his age, he liked you, you wanted him, why not give it a try.

“Why don't you… come to my place tomorrow to discuss something…” whispered Felix in your ear slyly in his deep voice.

You smiled broadly, you couldn't wait.

˚₊‧꒰Ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Saturday, glorious Saturday before your Sunday family reunion at church, Felix finally took the initiative and invited you to be alone. Now it was you, who knocked on the door of his apartment nervously, but he was already waiting for you as he had to let you into the building first. He opened the door with a wide smile, so tender that you wanted to pinch his cheeks, but you only returned the gesture, for some reason, now you felt a little shy, after being the one who had taken all the important steps… You greeted each other shyly and you held out your shopping bag, indicating that you had brought him something.

“Come in, sorry about the mess, I'm still tidying up” he said, after you had seen apartment more neat and tidy apartment ever.

“I brought wine… I guess I didn't give you the proper welcome to the neighborhood” you told him seductively with a smile and dared to give him a quick kiss, which made him blush in seconds.

“I… cooked, well more like baked dessert and ordered dinner” he replied nervously, causing you tenderness.

You smiled at him and you both sat down to eat, bringing up any topic of conversation only to hear his voice and closely analyze the peculiar way his mouth moved every time he spoke, how his eyes looked up when he thought about something and his hands were in constant motion as he chatted about something.

You both relaxed afterwards, with nothing more to say, so you looked around his entire apartment and something of what looked like a keyboard in pieces caught your attention, you approached it, it was on the little table in front of his main couch in his living room.

“You were doing this? What is it?” you asked him with interest.

Felix followed you and stood there with his hands slightly shoved in his pants pockets.

“Oh, it's nothing, just a keyboard, I was just assembling it for fun.”

You looked at him, so tenderhearted, you literally didn't understand anything he said but you really liked him “You're so cute” you blurted out naturally, “Come here” you told him.

Felix sat next to you, obeying you and a little nervous, you approached his face with a smile and he watched you, suddenly you touched his lips, joining you both in an intimate act, you both enjoyed the angelic touch of your lips, but you couldn't help turning it into something more daring, opening your mouth and letting Felix explore inside you, but you noticed him so shy and insecure, you slowly let your body fall over him, you leaned down while your hand nimbly caressed his cock again, he grabbed you by the waist, taking you both into a sizzling and hot make out session.

But you couldn't wait, you were finally alone and it was more than obvious that Felix wanted to take things to another level, so you parted from him, agitated and unashamed, you undressed completely, exalting Felix, totally lost in your naked silhouette, and feeling bad for not having time to appreciate you in underwear, maybe next time; you approached him playfully, taking his shirt, without saying any words and also inviting him to undress. Felix was more than excited, he felt like a first timer exploring sex, as horny as a young man discovering his first porn, you were for him an erotic divinity, exploring every part of him he never thought existed, like the incredible lust and desire for intense sex.

Felix took off his shirt, revealing his thin complexion but marked abdomen, you bit your lip and without thinking twice you got on your knees in front of him, this time looking him in the eyes while you tried to pull down his pants, you caressed his marked abdomen and lowered your hand to unbutton his pants, he helped you to pull it down and playfully you slid all his jeans down his legs, taking them off. Felix gasped as he felt your warm breath near his cock, once again you saw him so yielding, his ears red and his cheeks flushed, you smiled and kissed his stiff cock on the fabric just to tease him some more.

For some strange reason, you loved to hear him so needy, like that time in church when he practically begged you to jerk him off, always so cute and kind not forgetting to say please.

You took his cock, still stimulating it on the cloth, looked him in the eyes and asked, “Do you want me to suck you off, Lix? Do you want to feel my mouth on your cock?”

Felix looked at you perplexed but excited to hear you talk so dirty, but gasped as he felt your tight hand on his member, he felt like he was going to cum at any moment. He nodded encouragingly and desperately.

“Yes-yes please, do it” he requested, pleading with his big eyes and contrasting with his raspy voice.

You smiled brightly and deftly pulled down his boxer shorts, freeing his hard swollen cock, sensitive to have its tip dripping with his precum, so throbbing and ready for use. You took him in, stroking his entire length, stuck out your tongue and your first taste of him was his thick glans, so soft and slippery on your restless tongue, you sucked on his tip, teasing him and causing a little 'pop' sound as you pulled him away from your mouth. Needless to say Felix was in heaven itself, he had never felt this desperate and excited in his life, you were giving him an unforgettable night.

You kissed his length and ran your tongue all around to lubricate it and taste every part of him as you massaged his balls. Even his genitals were as soft as he was, masculine looking, but tender. Felix kept whimpering in a high-pitched whine, unable to control the incredible sexual release that every little thing you did gave him. And finally, you introduced his member in your mouth, making him experience his first blowjob, Felix could not believe it, but it was true, his pasts girlfriends never bothered to satisfy him in such a way… he was always leaning towards the serious and reserved girls and at the end of the day they were, for poor Felix, complete dull in bed, but not for you, you who would love to try everything with Felix. He took his bending index finger into his mouth, biting it hard as he enjoyed the sensation of your cavity embracing his cock while you made eye contact with him, slowly he let himself go, and a little insecurely, took your hair gently, seeing how grotesque and dirty his wet member wrapped in your saliva looked sliding into your mouth, and your hand playing with his testicles, but he still loved it and wondered why he had never experienced it before, why he never felt eager for sex before when it was the most incredible thing in the world, at least for him, right now, and with you.

Felix couldn't take that much, you were stimulating him so well that, with his body trembling and hot gasps, he cummed in your mouth. Leaving you more than happy to finally taste him, he still hadn't finished cumming completely, his trembling, agonizing tip releasing his semen, when you pulled him out of your mouth, just for the pure pleasure of his cum on your lips and face, staining your face a bit with little white drops. You looked him in the eyes, and wiped his cum from your face to then suck your finger, making him hard in moments again, his erection being slightly more painful this time.

You wanted to be touched too, your pussy was throbbing hard and you were so wet and messed up that you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly started squirting, so you sat on Felix's lap, so unexpectedly, positioning yourself sideways and not pressing so hard on his cock. Felix saw your naked body with closeness, he couldn't believe how amazing you were making him feel right now. You spread your legs, showing him your soaking wet vulva.

“I-I'm so wet, touch me” you whimpered, taking his hand and placing it on your pussy.

Felix bit his lip hard and understood instantly, gently caressing your labia with his fingers and nimbly finding your clit.

“Mmm, just like that, you're doing so good, it feels good” you gasped.

“W-what was that little name you were calling me before?” whispered Felix in your ear, his thick voice making you twitch.

You smiled broadly, unable to believe what he would be referring to and for him to suddenly show a dirty side as well.

“Daddy” you sighed, you would love to call him that, for some reason you found it exciting, he was a little older to you, he was a man with his own apartment and a steady job, he was more mature than you who were still a college student, his pretty innocent face was something easy to fool you with, but he was still your soft and gentle daddy, caressing your pussy with such care.

Felix felt so good, his cock throbbed as he heard you encouraging him, your hand reached for his cock as you enjoyed his fingers gently caressing you.

“Mm, Daddy, fuck me with your fingers, look at my so wet cunt” you whimpered, trying to separate your entrance with one hand so he could see it.

More precum came out of his tip, his cock and your hand was already sticky from your previous activity, and he wondered how many times he had to cum today, how many more times he had to make a mess, Felix thought at this point he could be an easy sperm donor with the generous amount you make him spill, he was being pleasured like never before, he didn't regret for a second not getting carried away with your game, otherwise you wouldn't be like this with him now, on his lap while you masturbate him and him playing with your soft pussy.

Felix let out a ragged sigh and with his fingers he sought your entrance, gasping as he felt the softness and tightness of his fingers slide inside you.

“Ahhh fuck, daddy, yes, fuck my pussy please” you whimpered.

You shivered as you felt him, his thick fingers slipping in and out of you, while his other hand caressed your breast, leaving you so hungry and eager to have your whole pussy filled and busy. You kissed Felix, who was concentrating on giving you pleasure, as if it were a video game console and he had to press the right button to make you shudder, and he was succeeding. By this time you had already realized that he was a bit inexperienced, his movements were a bit clumsy, he was so needy that you felt his cock throbbing hard in your hand, cumming for the second time.

And you, you were so full of active sexual energy and wanted to fulfill your every fantasy with Felix and needed constant stimulation and pleasure, you bit your lip, you stirred a little to reach up to whisper in his ear, “Let me sit on your pretty face, daddy, please.”

Felix looked at you surprised while you looked at him expectantly, he knew what was coming, even in his lonely college nights he used to watch porn, thinking that horny girls willing to experience all positions and last long minutes in sex just stayed there… but apparently you came out of his reality, you were a dream, the only difference was that he wasn't strong enough to last long minutes without cumming, he did it so often he lost count, he just enjoyed what you subtly ordered him to do.

“Get comfortable daddy so I can sit on your face” you said again more lusciously.

Felix pulled his fingers away from you and watched you stand up as you gently pushed him off his shoulders.

“Relax your body for me, daddy, lay down a little.”

He followed your orders, putting his back and head on the lumpy cushion of his couch, and you expertly squatted down to direct your whole pussy into his mouth, Felix watched a few seconds of your swollen pussy until he felt it in his mouth, you both gasped, his cock twitched, and the next thing he knew is that he must please you. Oh his sweet angel, tasting so good. He stayed with his eyes open, he held his hands on your thighs and saw your naked body above him.

Felix licked, kissed, sucked hard every length of your folds, stimulating your clit with his tongue while all your wetness was rubbing in around the area of his mouth and on his chin. You gasped loudly, it felt so good. His upturned nose gently rubbing your mons venus with your pussy smeared in his mouth.

“Yesss, daddy, you're doing so well, you're such a good daddy, fuck” you whimpered, his soft moans into your pussy as he licked it sent exquisite vibrations, driving you over the edge, “P-put your tongue inside my daddy, please” you begged.

Felix once again sought your entrance, thrusting his tongue in, playing with your dilated, dripping hole, bringing you almost to orgasm.

“Fuck, daddy I'm gonna cum” you whimpered in a high pitched tone, and you cum shuddered in his mouth.

Felix, like a good little boy, sucked hard on every bit of your fluid, gulping it down with delight as he felt another orgasm, his abdomen contracted and his cock twitched on its own, so painful and pleasurable, he climaxed all over his marked abs.

You shuddering, got off his face and appreciated the mess of his pretty, swollen lips stained with you.

“I'm gonna fuck you now, daddy” you said again animated and happy, still not letting Felix catch his breath. You positioned yourself on top of him, rubbing your folds on his cock and realized he cum once again, you smiled smugly, “Fuck, daddy, did you cum again? Did you liked my pussy that much, huh?” you said innocently, biting your lip as you held onto his abs, starting to rub yourself on his cock.

Felix loved the softness with which you spoke vulgarities, so he, aroused, dared to say in something that came out of him in a more low tone:

“Fuck, yes, princess, I loved your pussy.”

You were so surprised, his voice almost vibrating your body that you couldn't hold back any longer. You took his cock and directed it to your entrance, letting yourself fall all the way down his length, making you both gasp.

“Mm daddy your cock fits perfectly on me. Do you like my cunt in your cock daddy?”

“Y-yes” Felix whimpered needily as he felt you rubbing all over your wet pussy on him, stimulating his balls.

“Is it tight?”

“Oh fuck yeah, very tight, angel.”

“I'm gonna fuck you daddy, gonna make you fill up my pussy.”

And you began to move, sliding all over his cock, feeling how it was built right for you, yet it felt so tight to your pussy, it drove you crazy. Felix hadn't fucked in years, he never made a big deal about it but now, he was in heaven itself, he could die in your arms and he wouldn't matter, he would leave very well satisfied.

“Oh, fuck, yesss, it feels so good” he groaned.

He held you by the waist, panting deeply between each thrust and movement you brought to his cock, it felt so good, the way your insides embraced his cock, echoing through his apartment with the brutal sounds of your wet pussy colliding with his member. Felix was so close again, the vein in his neck showing, feeling so guilty about cumming inside you, but the feel of your internal organ buried in his cock made him see stars, maybe now he's obsessed with you and the feel of your pussy in him.

You noticed him so close, his hands shaking now squeezed your breasts and you sped up your movements.

“Cum for me daddy, please” you asked him, while at the same time you felt so close too.

Felix squeezed your breasts hard, shouted an “Oh, god” in a rough voice and cum intensely in you, ten times more intense than all the previous times.

You bit your lip, still moving in him waiting for your orgasm until it took your whole body, combining with Felix's cum sliding down his length and into your entrance. You pulled out of him, and gasped at the grotesque act of your hole expelling both fluids.

Breathless and a mess, you let yourself fall back on Felix's heaving slender chest. He wiped his mouth a little, took your face in his hands and began to give you little kisses around your face making you laugh, Felix may have fallen in love with you a little.

[wonryllis]

after hours, i can be whatever you want me to be ⭑ ( lhs. )

⭑ FEATURING horrendously down down bad lee heeseung x kinda naive philophobic fem!reader. where heeseung has no intentions of escaping your cages, forever remaining under the spell of your love. ( ARCHIVE? )

⭑ GENRE & WARNINGS fluff, toxic situation, almost kissing, mildly suggestive WORDCOUNT 0.834k

she's crazy but i love her.

heeseung's steps are slow and calculated, eyes glued on your figure trying to make your way to his car. stumbling and wobbly in heels you (kind of) seem accustomed to, feet clicking against the pavement in a hasty stride. he's worried. you were out with friends past midnight on a weekday, called him all drunk to pick you up from the bar and now you are barely able to walk straight, ankle on the verge of twisting at any given moment but you wouldn't let him hold you. he's worried sick.

"angel please just hold onto me hm?" he pleads rushing over when you visibly slip on an uneven part, hands almost gripping around your waist as you manage to keep your balance, staggering back into his arms in a couple of steps.

"you! who are you!" your hands push against his chest as you turn around startled. there it goes, again! heeseung sighs knowing what's to come. it's the third time in the last fifteen minutes, going over this exact conversation word to word.

"it's heeseung, your cousin's friend and your friend," he makes sure to emphasize on 'your friend' trying to stop this before it gets further into the loop.

"where's my cousin?" you ask, looking around the rather empty parking lot.

"he working," heeseung's explanation is dry because he knows you'll cut him off before he can say anything more,"and why are you here?" just like that. he remembers the first time this happened, when you were actually sober and met him at your cousin brother: jay's workplace. you showed up out of nowhere, without any notice and jay was going bonkers at how he'll get you back home when he has the most important client waiting for him in the next room. heeseung hadn't thought much when he offered to drop you off, a favor for a friend that was all it was to him.

"because you called me, angel," but god was he wrong, for he swears the moment he laid his eyes on you he was a goner. you were too darn pretty to be just a favor. you were younger, a party girl always running out to frat and sorority gatherings, bars and clubs. often calling jay to pick you up to avoid letting your parents know of your shenanigans.

"why did i call you and not my cousin?" everytime he had wished it was him and not jay, even though ultimately he was the one who went. carrying your cute drunk ass to your mansion and getting you to your room as discreetly as possible. you are a rich girl, two worlds apart and heeseung has felt it in many ways than not.

"because i'm your cousin's friend and you know me well," heeseung never thought he'd ever be more than just your cousin's friend to you. at least he hopes he is more. you have done things with him that you'd definitely not do with just your cousin's friend. a space curtaining acquaintance and lover, he hangs dangerously cold and heedless.

"so where's my cousin?" between days left ghosted and nights you throw your arms around him he stands unsure of his place in your life. at times he feels you know he's the one who could treat you better than any of the guys you cry for. yet there are moments when there's this sturdy wall you build, holding him away for the sake of not losing him like others. afraid of love is what you refuse you are but heeseung knows your conceptions of it are a little too twisted, broken he dare say. and his love for you is so far and conflicted to the things you have experienced, he understands the lengths and the time it will take for you to recognize and accept him.

"you know what, i'm getting you in the car myself," in an instance his hands grip at the back of knees and the curve of your waist, hauling you up in his arms. he walks quick to his car parked at the far end, smiling through the constant pouty mumbles of yours. eyeing you every two seconds, not being able to resist that pretty face of yours.

it is absolutely not in him to ever resist that pretty face of yours, your pretty eyes and your pretty lips as they graze against his own in gentle brushes. arms looped around his neck and thighs resting on the soft matress of your bed, albeit on each side of his own, yet again. sitting on his lap, so close, bodies pressed. "heeseungie, please stay," your voice a sultry whisper of a whine, a naive vixen, if that's even a thing.

lee heeseung knows he will never have the power to refuse you, he will be whatever you want him to be for how ever long you will want him to be.

you make him crazy and he loves you for that.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun @enhacrumbsss @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @mxxnintheskyreblogs

[callme-holly]

hiii! can u write headcannons for the greasers when you are on your period?

𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 [𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝.]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - So sorry for my inconsistency when it comes to requests - I'm not working in any particular order but I will get to them all eventually! Anyway hope y'all enjoy and as always asks are still open for requests

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 901 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

Darry Curtis - 

Darry would be so caring towards you, oh my lord.

If you need something, you best believe he is going to get it for you, among many other things. 

If you’re suffering with bad cramps, he will gladly lay with you and hold you for as long as you need him to. 

If the boys are bugging you in any way, shape or form, he is telling them to lay off and keeping you as far away from them as possible. He knows how annoying they can be first hand and the last thing you need right now is them all up in your face. 

He will come home from work during his breaks just to check on you and make sure you have everything you need; heat pad, blankets, snacks, entertainment. 

Sodapop Curtis - 

Much like his brother, Soda is super caring and sweet. 

He will go out and buy you everything you could possibly need; chocolate, medicine, you name it, babe, he’s getting it for you. 

Will take hot baths and showers with you after work. 

This boy will cuddle with you all day if that was what you wanted, hell, he’d take the day off work just to spend time taking care of you. 

If you’ve got cramps, he feels super guilty. He hates seeing you in pain and hates knowing that he can’t help you even more. 

Strongly believes that kisses will “cure” you and will shower you with attention until you’re feeling slightly better. 

Ponyboy Curtis - 

Pony doesn’t know much about periods other than the fact that you can get pretty damn moody. 

He tries his hardest to understand what you’re going through, but eventually he freaks out and has to ask Darry for help. 

If you need him to get you something, he will go into the store with the full intention of buying only the items you requested only to panic and buy almost every single product he could find. 

If you’ve got bad cramps, he’ll do his best to make you feel better. He’ll do whatever you need him to do but, in the end, he’ll just lay down and read to you until you fall asleep. 

Johnny Cade - 

Johnny is the sweetest. 

He gets so concerned about you and hates seeing you in any sort of pain/discomfort. 

If you’re sad, he’s sad. 

You want him to get you something? Medicine, chocolate, blankets? No problem, sweetheart, just sit tight and he’ll get it in no time at all. 

If you’ve particularly irritable, he tends to stay out of the way for a little while. He doesn't wanna upset you and he also doesn’t wanna get yelled at by you. 

He’ll cuddle with you for ages. When I tell you he isn’t letting go until you do, I mean it. 

If you’ve got bad cramps, he’ll lay with you and rub your stomach until they pass. 

He’s also not opposed to running you a warm bath if that’s what helps you.

Dallas Winston - 

When I tell you this boy knows nothing about periods, I mean it. His knowledge is very limited; he knows you get pretty moody and that’s about it. 

He’ll try to stay out of your way the best he can because when you’re on your period you kind of scare him. 

Once you snapped at him for being a pain in the ass and he never tried to bug you again. Instead, he went to find the gang and was like “damn, women can be scary sometimes, man.” 

He definitely showers with you but for all the wrong reasons. 

If your cramps are particularly bad he’ll get you blankets and will sit with you until they pass.

Either that or he’ll panic and call Darry. He does not know how to deal with this shit. 

Is definitely the type of person to say “can’t you just hold it?” 

Steve Randle - 

He’ll either take you to work with him or take the day off so that you’re not alone. 

He’ll let you sit in his lap whilst he rubs your back and presses soft kisses to your lips and forehead.

He’s actually so sweet to you. 

Will gladly feed you chocolate cake (he might steal a few bites too). 

Much like Soda, he has no problem taking hot showers with you if that’s what helps you to relax.

He will bring back whatever you want from the DX, just ask him and he’ll get it for you. 

If your cramps are particularly bad, he’ll just hold you until they pass. His comforting skills aren’t the greatest but he tries his best and we love him for it <333

Two-Bit Mathews - 

He tries to stay out of your way if you’re particularly irritable. He learnt the hard way not to bug you when you’re on your period and he vowed never to tease you again. 

He’ll cuddle up with you on the couch and you two will just watch TV together. 

Much like Steve, he has no problem feeding you chocolate cake, although he might end up eating the vast majority of it. 

Will pepper your face with kisses, claiming that it’s the only cure to your discomfort. 

If your cramps are bad, he’ll get you a heat pack and will do anything in his will to make you feel better. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous your requests may be, he will do it for you. 

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Ford x fem!reader x Stan

minors dni

Stan’s grip on you tightens, pulling you against his frame as he crashes his lips against yours. There’s no hesitation, just raw, impatient hunger, the kind of kiss that takes your breath away and leaves you wanting more. His hands roam with a boldness that leaves no room for doubt, fingers digging into your hips as if claiming you.

From behind, Ford’s approach is way softer. His lips ghost along the curve of your neck, pressing tender slow kisses to your skin. Such contrast between them makes you dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches. You groan softly, caught in the heat of it all, and instinctively lean back into Ford’s embrace. There Stan's face visibly frowns.

Stan pulls back just enough to mutter, “Don't let him think he's in charge here.” his tone is rough, tinged with jealousy, his hand slides over your side, possessive and demanding as if trying to take you away from his twin.

Before you can respond, Ford’s voice cuts through, quiet but confident. “She can decide for herself, Stan,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “can’t you, darling?”

The tension between the brothers is palpable, but so is the way their hands explore your body. Stan’s touch is firm, always a little too eager, while Ford’s fingers trail gently over your skin, savoring every inch. They both can’t get enough of you. Stan’s lips crash back into yours, but Ford’s kisses never stop, his mouth pressing slow, sensual kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, you literally melt between them. 

A loud moan escapes your lips when Stan's hand slaps your butt, you sob from a little pain and feel Ford's body tense behind you as he glares at his brother. “What? Are you trying to make me look bad?” Stan huffs.

Ford smirks softly, nipping at your skin gently before whispering, “no? Im just appreciating how beautiful she is.” his touch is feather-light, contrasting with Stan’s more possessive grip. “and I'm trying to please her, Stanley, not hurt her."

“Yeah? well, I’d like to appreciate her too,” Stan bites out, jealousy bubbling inside him. “don’t forget who’s been here longer.” he murmurs into your mouth and leans in again, capturing your lips.

You whimper softly, overwhelmed by their attention, your face all flushed as you try to hold yourself. Both men vying for your attention. Ford smiles against your skin. “Good girl,” he praises softly.

Stan, at the exact same time, mutters, “Atta girl.”

They both fall silent as their words intersect in the most unexpected way. They pull away, looking at each other over your shoulder, realizing what just happened. There's an awkward silence for a moment, but then Stan huffs in annoyance, his grip on your waist tightening. “Seriously? you gotta steal my lines now?”

Ford, always calm, arches an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk. “Didn’t realize praise was trademarked,” he remarks dryly.

You laugh softly, but the sound breathy from arousal. "Are you really arguing about this right now?” you ask them, needing their attention and kisses so badly, you don’t want that to stop.

Stan shoots a half-grin your way, nodding. “You better believe it, sweetie. I’m not lettin’ this nerd outdo me.”

Ford still remains calm and patient, although his hand slides up, cupping your chin, gently turning your face towards him. “Outdo you? Stan, we’re not in a competition.” his lips gently touch yours as he murmurs, “we’re both making her feel good.”

Stan’s cocky grin widens, and he leans in, his voice rough as he rests his hands on your thighs. “Speak for yourself, i think she likes me better.”

Ford chuckles smoothly, rolling his eyes and pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his breath tickles your skin pleasantly. “Is that so? Why don’t we let her tell us herself?”

Your heart pounds, your body burns at their touch and it takes your breath away when their eyes focus solely on you, waiting, watching. “I. . . I like both of you,” you admit breathlessly. “please, just- just continue, I need you both.”

Stan’s eyes light up, his fingers slide lower, his thumb brushing teasingly along your hip. “That’s my girl.”

Ford’s touch remains soft still, his lips pressing a delicate kiss to your neck as he murmurs against your skin, “You’re perfect, darling.”

[wheneclipsefalls]

Little Gift- Tremble

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Little Gift Masterlist

Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: This is your last chance to run.

Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.

A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.

The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too. 

“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him. 

Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder. 

“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.” 

You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku. 

The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal. 

“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask. 

Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives. 

“Who?” 

“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?” 

Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room. 

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.” 

Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.

“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation. 

“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.” 

Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….

“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.” 

It’s Spider’s turn to look confused. 

“Why?” 

“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?” 

“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own. 

“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.

“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.” 

You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell. 

Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice. 

“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood. 

“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening. 

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.” 

Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully. 

“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.”  It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of. 

Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress. 

“Yeah.” He says shortly. 

“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”

“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you. 

“What do-”

“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”

“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words. 

The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end. 

It won’t be. 

“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?” 

Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze. 

“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.” 

You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out. 

Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you. 

And then finally….

“We have to be quick.”

“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.

“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path. 

“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week. 

Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal. 

Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course. 

“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.” 

“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile. 

Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines. 

There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint. 

It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.

“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame. 

“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold. 

“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned. 

“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.” 

“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below. 

“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.” 

You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start. 

Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship. 

How long is it going to take them to load everyone?

How long until your hopes are dashed?

You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat. 

You pray that they never fall on you again. 

Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward. 

Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention. 

Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity. 

It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him. 

You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place. 

Pain?

Hatred? 

Guilt? 

This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.

Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro. 

Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had. 

Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge. 

There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all. 

Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery. 

Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly. 

The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected. 

You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.

Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building. 

Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room. 

How much time do you have?

They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.

And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster. 

Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.

You mentally check through this list. 

Piece of cake. 

Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope. 

Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to. 

Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear. 

“You’re an idiot.” She says. 

“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.

You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent. 

“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.” 

“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!” 

As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all. 

“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly. 

“Well I’m sure-”

“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end. 

Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response. 

“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance. 

You can hardly believe your luck. 

That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all. 

Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now. 

Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of  tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do. 

As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway. 

Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed  swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes. 

It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it. 

Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.

Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case. 

He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care. 

Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?

You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board. 

Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down. 

You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.

You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box. 

He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space. 

The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl. 

“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?” 

He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away. 

“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.” 

The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear. 

“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.” 

It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you. 

“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.” 

The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world. 

He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties. 

Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with. 

“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together. 

“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.” 

You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly. 

“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly. 

Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start. 

You make one fatal mistake, however. 

If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times. 

Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him. 

“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away. 

“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.” 

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention. 

“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck. 

“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!” 

“Quiet, pet.” 

Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place. 

“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.” 

A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping. 

Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together. 

Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life. 

Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts. 

Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor. 

Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage. 

However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can. 

The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you. 

But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak. 

“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize. 

“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.” 

“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape. 

“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.” 

It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi. 

“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom. 

It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment. 

“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly. 

Hardly even touched you?

Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?

You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat. 

“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.” 

It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before. 

Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading. 

“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!” 

He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land. 

Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.

However, one call catches his attention.

“Olo’eyktan please!” 

The sound of slapping skin stops. 

Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish. 

“Repeat, pet.” 

“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears. 

“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning. 

“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!” 

He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be. 

“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.” 

Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips. 

“You’re learning, pet.”

Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment. 

Well, maybe not the source per say. 

No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels. 

Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you. 

Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket. 

That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy. 

The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling. 

The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here. 

Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report. 

You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns. 

Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned. 

Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath. 

It stops.

You breathe. 

There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite. 

And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.

Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male. 

You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched. 

With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother. 

Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you fucking dare. 

Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.

This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time. 

He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place. 

Lo’ak’s grin is feral. 

This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible. 

Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours. 

There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright. 

That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change. 

His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button. 

Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground. 

The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.

Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest. 

Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm. 

Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.

Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later. 

Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully. 

You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks. 

Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now. 

The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest. 

The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching. 

The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs. 

Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more. 

Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”

His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak. 

With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air. 

“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless. 

When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships. 

As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3

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Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 10.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of forceful behaviour towards women, bad family dynamics

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Sorry, folks! No smut yet, I need some more time to build up the right moment!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's silly to cry about this, isn't it? No, yeah, it's definitely not silly.

Y/n rubs her eyes. She's standing lost in the abandoned tent in the middle of the pieces of Katsuki's tantrum. Slowly, she starts picking up the things Katsuki has thrown across the room.

It will be alright. You can trust Katsuki. Whatever happened today, it's not your fault and Katsuki knows that. He might get irritated easily but he's not unreasonable.

When y/n is done picking up the pieces of the destroyed chair, she's unsure what to do next. She decides to scrub off the paint in the stone hut. There's only cold water this time but y/n grinds her teeth and scrubs it all off. Afterward, she feels a little bit like herself again.

Back in the tent, she loses the clothes as well. She looks for her dress but she can't find it. This upsets her more than it should. After all, it's just a piece of fabric, she tells herself. Then again, it was her mother's dress. The last thing that connected her with her people.

My bag!, she thinks and looks for it where she dropped it the night before. She finds it next to the bed. She dumps the contents on the bed and looks at the things she's brought along. She takes the small knife and strokes over the carvings in the wooden handle. Her father made it for her for her twelfth birthday. He wanted to paint it one day, but he passed before he ever got the chance.

She remembers her father. He was a kind but firm man. He believed in the way of their people. Y/n remembers how he used to take her and her brother to a meadow in the middle of a summer night. He showed the kids how the fireflies light up when you run through the grass. He dared them to catch one and when they did, he explained to them how every creature was created by the great being of things and therefore should be treated with respect. He made y/n let go of the fireflight she caught and they watched as it disappeared into the night sky.

Y/n clutches the knife. She didn't notice how tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she brushes them away. She shakes her head. Thinking about this, won't change the present. Carefully, she places the things back into her bag and hides it beneath the bed, so that they won't be taken away again like her dress.

She slips out of the skimpy clothes she was put into this morning and puts on the clothes Katsuki gave her yesterday. Also, she wraps a blanket around her since she's planning to go outside. I'm going to look for Katsuki, she determines.

~*~*~*~*~

It's strange walking around the village without Katsuki by her side. Y/n feels a lot more vulnerable without him. Again, there are only men outside the tents and they give her strange looks. She's sure they are talking about her, too.

She tries to shake the thought off when she slips in between two tents to get out of sight. Suddenly, a cold hand grabs her arm.

„A-are you new? When did they bring you in?“, a scared female voice says next to her.

Y/n feels instant relief. Finally, someone who understands her! And a woman too! She turns around to the voice and is instantly stunned.

There's a woman standing at the entrance of a tent. She's about y/n's height. The woman is pale as if she barely sees the sunlight. She looks sickish in a haggard way. Her state is nothing but alarming to y/n.

„Yes, I am. I just arrived yesterday. Are-“, y/n tells her and before y/n can ask her if she's alright, the woman's grip on her arm tightens.

„Did he do it already? The man that took you? Is he near? Is he looking for you?“, the woman asks frantically. There is fear in her eyes.

„Uhm, what do you mean?“, y/n replies uncertainly.

„You need to get away!“, the woman tells her, now grabbing both of y/n's arms. „If he hasn't taken you, you might still have a chance!“

The woman's eyes are ripped open widely and y/n can see how bloodshot they are. She mustn't have slept for days. Y/n tries to wiggle out of the woman's hold.

„I-i'm fine. Thanks for your concern, but-“, y/n tries to shake her off.

„Nadia!“, a voice barks from the side y/n came from. A big, bulky man walks their way. His face looks angry. He continues to speak loudly in his language. The woman winces and lets go of y/n. She quickly retreats back into the tent, leaving y/n alone outside.

The man gives y/n a glance before disappearing into the tent. His loud voice can be heard in the inside. By the tone of his voice, he must be scolding the woman. Y/n isn't sure if that's her cue to disappear like the woman said.

Eventually, the man comes back outside. He doesn't look as angry as before anymore. He says something to y/n that she doesn't understand.

„U-uhm, I'm a friend of Katsuki, I guess. Do you know where he is?“, she asks him and the man looks annoyed. He throws his arms into the air in frustration and rambles something to himself.

Y/n straightens her posture a bit at tells him in a determined voice: „Katsuki“.

The man gives her an uncertain look. Then he grabs her shoulder and makes a gesture to follow him. Y/n does so. The man drags her through half of the village, stopping here and there to talk to people. Y/n can hear the word „Katsuki“ quite often, so she guesses he is asking around where Katsuki is. Eventually, the man makes her walk quite a while outside of the settlement and y/n starts doubting her decision to follow him. What if the woman was right? What if that guy really has something bad on his mind?

The man leads her into a small gorge. Y/n can see how smoke rises from the inside, so she guesses humans must be there as well.

Turns out her guess was kind of wrong. The deeper they get into the gorge, the more clearly it becomes what lives her: dragons. When the first comes into sight, y/n walks a bit closer to the man in front of her. More and more dragons come into sight. Golden ones, blue ones, green ones. Y/n thinks the deep black ones look the scariest. She tries to avoid eye contact with all of them. Also, she wonders if Katsuki's great red one is here. Actually, she'd be really relieved to see the great red one again right now. At least one familiar face, or snout, around here.

The man leads her all the way in, where a small fire is lit. More men sit around it drinking and laughing.

The men cheer and gesture for the man to join him but he declines with a wave of his hand. He says something to them and y/n hears Katsuki's name again. She peeks behind the man and sees Katsuki sitting among the men around the fire. When Katsuki spots her, he immediately gets up.

Katsuki exchanges a few words with the man before said man turns around to leave. Katsuki grabs her shoulder and gives her an angry look. Seems as if he's not too happy that I'm here, y/n thinks.

The men laugh and say something to Katsuki to which he gives them a snarky reply. Katsuki leads her to the fire and motions for her to sit down. Y/n does so and wraps the blanket around her a little bit more tight. The man called Kirishima asks Katsuki something and points at y/n. Katsuki shrugs indifferently.

Kirishima fills a mug with something that's been brewing over the fire and hands the mug to y/n. Y/n takes a sniff. It's definitely alcohool. She takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised.

„Mead!“ she exclaims. The men cheer and raise their cups to her. Y/n does so too and takes another sip. The mead is sweet and rich in her mouth.

Kirishima laughs and says something to her. Y/n smiles. Somehow, this feels comfortable. Like when her people sat around the fire at night drinking some hot mead to keep warm. It's the time when stories and memories are shared. Y/n decides there's no harm in sharing a memory of her own, even if these strange men won't understand her.

„You know“, she tells Kirishima, „My aunt used to make mead together with my father“. Kirishima takes another sip from his cup while listening.

„Of course, you need honey for that.“, y/n continues, „So my aunt and my dad went to the woods to find wild honey for their mead. Unfortunately for them, there also was a bear looking for honey too. When my aunt saw the bear, she screamed so loudly that even the bear was frightened, and in his shock, the bear knocked down the bee nest. Of course, the bee attacked my aunt and my dad and they ran home to our camp, screaming the entire way. I've never heard my father scream like that. Like a little girl.“

Y/n is giggling at the end of the story and has to wipe the side of her eye. When she's done, she notices that the rest of the men fell silent and were watching her intently. Suddenly, she's a bit embarrassed for rambling out a story like that.

„Anyways“, she says and raises her cup, „Cheers!“. Quickly she takes another sip and the men start laughing. Y/n feels incredibly embarrassed. A few of the men clap Katsuki's back who also looks embarrassed. Y/n lowers her head. She didn't want to embarrass Katsuki with her stupid story.

Suddenly, she feels Katsuki slide closer to her. He puts an arm around her tucking her safely into his side. Y/n peers up at him. He keeps his eyes fixed on his peers and y/n snuggles a bit deeper into his side. At least he doesn't seem mad now anymore. She keeps slurping her mead until it's empty. Also, she surely feels the buzz. This mead is a lot stronger than the one her aunt and father brewed.

She watches Katsuki for a while who also seems to be done with his cup. Eventually, she pulls at one of his necklaces trying to get his attention. Katsuki lets go of her and looks down at her. He mumbles something which y/n guess is something like a „what?“. She should write that word down later.

„Where's your dragon?“, she asks him. When Katsuki's brows only furrow, she points at a dragon and says „Dragon?“ and then points at him. It seems as if a light goes up in Katsuki's head. He says something to his men and then gets up taking y/n's hand. They leave the fire together and Katsuki leads her to a cave entrance. He gestures for her to stay behind him and y/n does as she's told. The last thing she wants is to wake up an angry dragon. She peeks behind Katsuki and sees the enormous form of the great red right in front of them. Katsuki gestures for her to step beside him.

„Drami“, Katsuki tells her and y/n looks at him uncertainly. Is that the word for dragon in his language?

„Drami.“, y/n repeats and the great red raises its head. Y/n watches with wide eyes how the dragon moves its big head and nudges Katsuki.

„Oi!“, Katsuki exclaims and tries to push the dragon away. Y/n has to giggle at the sight. Is this how she looks when she tries to push Katsuki away but he doesn't move at all?

The great red notices her as well and moves towards her. Fear strikes her even though she knows that the beast probably won't hurt her. The dragon nudges her as well but in contrast to Katsuki, y/n wasn't prepared for the force of the nudge. She stumbles and falls over. There's a grumbling sound in the dragon's throat and she's sure the beast is laughing at her.

„Hey!“, she complaints and sits up.

Suddenly, there are whistling sounds in the air. Then, y/n gets attacked by all sides. Little dragons nudges her from all sides. Pulling on her blanket and hair. It's not painful and when the first shock wears off, y/n has to laugh and she tries to push the little dragon off of her. When she looks up, her eyes meet Katsuki's who have a mischievous gleam in it. He laughs at her and y/n sticks out her tongue to him while fending off the lizards around her.

There's a deeper grumble in the air and the dragons let go off y/n. They rush back to the great red. The small ones have the same color as the great red and when they climb onto it, they become invisible. No wonder y/n didn't spot them before. Katsuki chuckles and helps her up.

„That was rude.“, y/n tells him and tries to rearrange her messy hair. Katsuki picks up the blanket and puts it around y/n's shoulders again. He ruffles her hair and says something to the great red. He gestures for y/n to follow him.

„Bye, Drami!“, y/n tells the great red and quickly follows Katsuki outside.

~*~*~*~*~

After Katsuki says goodbye to his men, he walks back to the village with y/n. She looks ridiculous, he thinks. She lost the nice clothes picked out for her and instead carries this ratched blanket around with her. Is she really that cold? Katsuki and his men walk around shirtless half of the time and even the women in his tribe wear more revealing clothes than the women from the kingdom. It makes him wonder if his mother might be right about y/n.

They walk back in silence and Katsuki notices how uncomfortable y/n feels. He can't blame her. She probably hasn't got a clue about what happened earlier today. He wants to feel sorry for her but can't find it in him to do so. She should man up a bit, he thinks to himself. Otherwise, she will never be accepted around here.

Doubt gnaws at the inside of his mind. He's been replaying the conversation with his mother again and again. The truth is that Mitsuki's right. Y/n isn't strong enough for his people. Physically and probably also mentally. She doesn't fit in. Hell, she doesn't even speak their language. Fine, that's something that can be tackled. Actually, Katsuki already decided that he'll send for Deku. That damn scholar can make himself useful and teach y/n their language.

And yet, Katsuki knows that he needs a strong mate by his side. One that stands strongly and proudly next to him as the leader of his people. Having a weak mate and weak offspring does not help his position. In contrast, it might give people a reason to doubt him. And who knows what the future holds.

So far the king Todoroki turned a blind eye to the dragonblood tribe's raid on his grounds. It's easier to let them take a few women than to fight his men. But how long will that go well? Katsuki already got the news that the king is stocking up his army. His tribe can handle a few strikes of retaliation. However, if it escalates to a full-blown war things look differently. The plague already decimated their numbers and with almost no women in the tribe to even out the number, the future looks grim.

His men did little to cheer him up. While they tried to support his choice, they also gave insight into their own homes. Comparing y/n to the few women they've brought home and mated. Denki's mate passed only after a few months. She lost weight rapidly after arriving in the village and one nasty cold later, the woman completely withered away. Not enough time to give him an heir. Kirishima's position is not rosy either. While his mate is still alive, the woman is terrified of him and that even though Kirishima is probably the softest of the bunch. The other men urge him to just take her since the tribe needs children and that's what the women are brought in for but Kirishima is too kind of a man to touch her against her will.

Kirishima doesn't speak it out loud but Katsuki knows how disgusted the man felt about himself after he mated her for the first time. Other men are not as docile as Kirishima. They take their new mates as they see fit. They think that if their new mate doesn't find it in themselves to accommodate the situation, at least they can submit to them and fulfill their duty as a mate.

Katsuki is so deep in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice how they arrived back at his tent. Only when y/n stops walking, he looks up. One of his mother's ladies-in-waiting is standing in front of his tent.

„Your mother wishes to speak to you. She's inside.“, the woman informs him. Katsuki gives her a nod and puts a hand on y/n's lower back pushing her inside.

„What do you want?“, Katsuki asks his mother upon entering the tent. His mother sits on the remaining chair with her arms and legs crossed.

„Did you mate her yet?“, she poses a counterquestion.

„Obviously not.“, Katsuki tells her. He gives y/n a side-eye and he notices how tense the smaller woman got. Clearly, she must fear his mother by now.

His mother rubs her temple.

„Katsuki, I didn't mean to upset you earlier.“, his mother states. Katsuki lets go of y/n and sits down on one of the trunks.

„I know that.“, he mumbles.

Mitsuki watches as her son uses a knife to scratch off dirt from the underside of his shoe. Meanwhile, y/n stands at the entrance of the room feeling absolutely lost. She feels like she shouldn't be here for this conversation. She tries to make eye contact with Katsuki who keeps his focus on his shoes. Mitsuki sighs loudly making y/n flinch.

„Katsuki, I'm glad you want to take on a mate. I've been afraid you'd refuse one completely. I'm just worried about your future, our future.“, Mitsuki points out. Her voice isn't exactly soft but probably as soft as the former chief can be.

Katsuki stabs the trunk with his knife.

„Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm worried, too?“, he barks at her.

Mitsuki gives her son a pointed look.

„I know you are. Which is more the reason why I don't understand... this.“, Mitsuki says and vaguely gestures towards y/n as if she's a piece of furniture rather than a real person standing in the room.

Looking back at it, y/n doesn't know why that was the reason to get her angry but it does. Y/n decides then and there that she doesn't like the woman who clearly is related to Katsuki. Why does she always pretend like I'm not there, y/n thinks. It makes her angry. It's rude. Also, y/n is pretty sure that his woman has nothing nice to say about her.

Katsuki looks at his mother annoyedly.

„What do you want me to say? I've chosen her. Don't you trust my reasons?“, he tells her.

„Do you trust your reasons? Because if you had, wouldn't you have mated her by now?“, Mitsuki strikes back.

Katsuki feels more and more irritated by each passing second.

„That's none of your business. Or do you also plan to check how often I fuck my mate?“, he bites back.

Mitsuki gives him a piqued look and shakes her head in disgust.

„Seriously, Katsuki. What the hell are you thinking?“, Mitsuki asks him.

Katsuki pushes himself off the trunk and ruffles his own hair roughly.

„I don't know, okay? I met her and we connected. I want her.“, he tells his mother.

„Aha, you want her. If you want her, then take her and pass her on, or let her go.“, Mitsuki replies.

Katsuki gives her an angry look.

„She's different from the other women we brought here.“, he tries to argue.

„In how far?“

Katsuki throws his arms up in the air.

„For one, she's not afraid of us or our dragons. Actually, I think Drami might like her. She's a fighter. I saw her fight a bandit with her bare hands. She can hunt, or at least read tracks to a certain degree. She can treat wounds and she picks up on things quite quickly. I'm sure that if that damn Deku teaches her, she will be speaking...“, Katsuki starts to ramble.

„Stop.“, Mitsuki says coldly and holds up a hand.

„I don't need to hear you sing praise to this woman. Nothing you said proves to me that she will be a good mate to you. You describe basic skills that everyone should have. If you think that...“, his mother continues.

„Can I say something about this?“, y/n enters the conversation. She's sick that she's forced to observe from the sidelines, especially considering that this is a conversation that's clearly about her. Y/n doesn't care that neither Katsuki nor this woman understands her. It's time to give both of them a piece of her mind.

Y/n stems her arm into her hips and points at Mitsuki.

„First of all, who do hell do you think that you are? I don't give a shit if you're their queen or something. My people believe that all humans are equals to one another. Therefore I can't stand how you talk about me pretending I'm not there. Secondly, I might not understand what you say but I'm sure you say very mean things about me. Did nobody teach you basic manners? Like seriously, at least have the decency to talk shit about me behind my back. But making me understand what you think of me without speaking my language? Wow, you must really be determined on making me feel like crap.“, y/n tells Mitsuki while holding eye contact with the woman. Mitsuki looks unpleasantly surprised by y/n's outburst.

„And now to you, mister!“, y/n says turning to Katsuki.

„You drag me all the way to your people, make me do stupid ceremonies that I don't understand and then you let his woman humiliate me in front of all of these people? And after all this, you take me back here just to throw a temper tantrum. What are you? Five? I honestly don't give a fuck about what that woman's issue is. What I do care about is how you handle it. And you're not handling it very successfully, dare I say. You're handling it like a manchild. Drinking your problems away with your buddies only to have another argument with her all over again? Seriously, I start to doubt if I made the right choice in trusting you!“, y/n gives Katsuki an earful.

Katsuki stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Y/n takes a deep breath. She straightens her posture.

„That being said, I exclude myself from this conversation.“, she tells Katsuki proudly with her head held high.

Then, she turns around and stomps outside the tent. Mitsuki stares after her just as perplexed as her son does.

Outside, y/n is fuming. This whole situation frustrates her. Because people talk and decide things over her head. Because she has no way to take any form of action. This time, she doesn't cry.

It's time to find that Nadia woman and get some more information out of her, y/n thinks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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@gold24fish @notsaelty

[I think I can't tag anymore people, sorry! Unless anybody knows what I'm doing wrong...]

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (12/?)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, descriptions of sexual fantasies, smut, the angst, semi-public sex, 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

_____

You will live with me.

She didn't know why this thought simultaneously frightened and relieved her.

The truth was that she had always wanted just that.

To be with him.

To their relief, Aegon recovered quickly and remembered his lesson well, appearing no more at his brother's premises.

The state in which he returned to her that morning, the way he looked, sobbing like a small child exactly as he had done then, that summer, meant that even though she knew what he had done was wrong, so very wrong, she could not denounce or reject him.

She knew that something had simply snapped inside him and that he was terrified that she would leave him now.

Although he had thought for sure that this would be the end of them, she saw his sincere despair, what he had hidden inside for so long as well as the depth of feelings, which made her finally believe that he really loved her.

He loved her and it was a love beyond reason, deep and hot, terrifyingly dark and giving her a sense of security at the same time.

From the moment she made her choice, it seemed to her that for some reason something had changed, although she did not know why.

In her mind, they had simply started living together as a couple.

They worked together, studied together, shopped and cooked together, talked for hours in bed, made love and fell asleep in each other's embrace only to wake up the next day and start all over again.

After she turned off her phone so she wouldn't see the missed calls from her mother and Jace, a strange calm settled in her mind.

The calm before the storm.

They both knew it, but they didn't talk about it, focusing more on spending time together, enjoying the simple closeness, the touch of each other's hands, the kisses on the forehead and nose, the safe, warm embrace of their arms.

Her uncle's jealousy had prevented him from forming any kind of relationship with Robb that she could recognise as warmth, however, the fact that he had then stood up for them meant that they had no longer glared at each other with malevolent glances and both seemed to have come to terms with their presence.

She knew that there had been some sort of complete climax of his emotions that morning, and that everything he had felt had poured out along with his tears, which had for some reason made his nature and behaviour soften a little, at least in her presence.

It seemed to her at certain moments that he was a child again: not in terms of his naivety or the vocabulary he used, but something in his gaze, his touch, the way that even when they were among other people he would lay his head on her thighs, sitting on the grass with her, used to her always stroking his hair, made her feel that he was that boy again.

He seemed tired to her, but also relaxed and at ease, his manner and reaction no longer so aggressive with his existence limited to working by her side and being as close to her as possible.

She knew he was trying to recover, to pull himself together after what had happened, to understand who he was now and what he really wanted.

This theoretical calm was disturbed when Criston called him, saying that his people wanted to meet with him to discuss a few things. The expression on his face as he listened to Cole was unnatural and some part of her thought he was afraid to go back there.

He was afraid of what they all thought of him now.

"Let me go with you." She said and before he could refuse, she completed her thought. "They know we're together. Let them see that I am doing this of my own free will. That you are no deviant or rapist."

He swallowed hard at her words, looking blankly at his phone, fighting with himself in his mind.

"…only this one time. On the condition that you stay next to me all the time and don't speak. Do you understand? Even if I tell them something you don't like. You can't rebuke me in front of my men." He said coolly, looking at her carefully, and she sighed.

"Do you really think I could do this to you?" She asked in pain, seeing that he was closing himself in the stone fortress of his mind again.

Something changed in his gaze, warmth and affection flashed across his face, proof that he felt something deep inside himself at her words.

"No. Of course not." He whispered in shame, looking down at his fingers as if to remind himself that, in fact, she had never done anything to hurt him.

That she had always been on his side.

She wasn't quite sure how a mafia boss's girlfriend should present herself: she imagined girls in short leather skirts and cabaret tights, with cut-out cleavage and strong, defiant make-up.

She decided she wasn't going to pretend to be someone she wasn't and wore a simple, black, tight-fitting dress, the only one she had with her, her hair loose and falling in light waves over her shoulders.

She wondered if her uncle would comment on her appearance in any way, he, however, was immersed deep in his thoughts, clearly impatient, walking around the room.

"Ready?" He asked as she turned towards him, and she nodded.

"Let's go."

As they got into the car, midnight struck on the clock: all around them the road was empty and dark. She swallowed quietly as she looked at her fingers, wondering if she should ask.

She decided, however, that she couldn't stand it and needed to know.

"Will Alys be there too?"

She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he flinched at the mention of that name and glanced at her quickly, surprised, looking back at the road after a moment.

"No. Where did that question come from?" He asked, forcing himself to be calm, but she heard his voice tremble.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he was terrified.

That there was something between them that he didn't want her to know about.

"She told me that you were sleeping with each other. I found out from her that you overdosed." She explained, turning her gaze towards the side window, feeling an unpleasant discomfort in her heart.

The thought of their naked, sweaty bodies entwined together, their heavy breaths, her hands trailing over his skin made her feel tears under her eyelids.

She heard him draw in a loud breath, at once terrified, impatient and frustrated, his tongue licking his lower lip before he spoke his next sentence.

"There's been nothing between us for over a year. Since…" He didn't finish and she looked at him, wondering if what she was thinking had happened.

He revealed to me the name he calls you by accident.

Let's just say it slipped out to him in a moment of elation because he forgot it wasn't you lying beneath him.

She remained silent, feeling that he was tense and angry, sensing subconsciously that if she kept dragging the subject and asking more questions, he would eventually explode.

There has been nothing between us for over a year.

Although she should be relieved, her body was filled with sadness, tears one after the other running down her cheeks at the thought that instead of writing her off, meeting her, he preferred to fuck another woman, to spend time with her, to open his heart to her.

"– hey – hey, baby – I told you, there's nothing between us anymore – why are you crying? –" He asked in a shaky voice, placing his hand on hers, his voice soft and quivering as his thumb stroked her skin in a gesture he surely wanted to comfort her with.

"– I wrote to you for eight years – begging you to see me – to talk to me – and you spent that time with her – that realisation hurts me so much –" She muttered in a breaking voice, suddenly bursting into sobs, hiding her face in her free hand, the other held clenched on his.

"– baby, no – no, no, no, shhh –" He mumbled out in a panic, stopping at the side of the road, leaning over her immediately as he switched on the emergency lights.

He stroked her cheek and unbuckled her seatbelt, pulling her close to him, and though she didn't want it, she allowed him to lift her awkwardly and sit her on his lap.

She twisted, trying to find some more comfortable position as his arms locked her in a tight embrace, snuggling her face into his neck. His lips placed several warm, lingering, sticky kisses on the skin of her face before he sighed heavily, apparently trying to gather his thoughts.

"– I was afraid to meet you – I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to let you go – that I would pull you down with me – and that's exactly what happened – with her I was only fulfilling my fantasies about you, but we weren't in a relationship – we were both sleeping with other people at the time as well –" He muttered and she just listened, shocked by his words, letting his fingers comb lazily through her long hair.

"– the first woman I fucked was twenty years older than me – I guess I was looking for a reflection of my mother in her and just wanted someone to hug me – when she put her hand in my trousers, when she sat on top of me – mmm – I felt dirty – I closed my eyes then and thought of you – I imagined you lying on a towel on the beach in a bathing suit, reading a book – I imagined that you looked at me and smiled – that you held out your hand to me and told me we should go swimming – that as soon as we were submerged in the water up to your waist, I drew you to me and kissed you –"

He whispered in a trembling, breaking voice, and she just continued in his embrace, horrified and heartbroken by what she was hearing, feeling herself whooping with her own tears as she tried to catch her breath.

They both sighed as one of his hands slid down to her thigh, travelling lower and lower.

"– I imagined that you enjoyed it – that you moaned when I enclosed your buttocks in my hands – when my fingers pushed the material of your panties aside and sunk in here –" He muttered, clearly letting his fantasies carry him away, brushing his lips against her neck as his fingers slid under the material of her underwear, invading her warm womanhood, dripping and pulsing because of his words.

"– I imagined that you were leaking for me – that when I slipped my fingers into you, you were all wet – ah –" He moaned as, in keeping with his words, he teased her throbbing pussy, moist and slick under his fingers, two of them slowly sliding deep into her slit.

"– Aemond – yes –" She whimpered and they kissed, hot and passionate, panting into each other's mouths, her hips involuntarily beginning to roll back and forth to the rhythm of his hand, letting his fingertips go as deep as he desired.

His tongue burst between her sweet, puffy lips at her words with his grunt of satisfaction, his hand let go of her and reached for his belt, undoing it in a quick, nimble motion.

"– come here –" He whispered, watching with dreamy eyes as she turned in his lap, slipping her panties off her legs, feeling like she was having déjà vu.

It had looked exactly the same when he had betrayed her.

She knew he wouldn't do it this time – the almost childlike helplessness in his eyes, his wide-open mouth, his erection pulsing in his hand which he squeezed with primitive, simple strokes merely looking at her.

She settled herself over him, slowly lowering herself onto the thick head of his cock: they both sighed loudly, wrinkling their brows as if in pain, their hands stroking their cheeks and hair in some powerless attempt to soothe each other.

"– Rhaenys –" He called out to her, as if melting into the darkness that was his heart, like Hades who called out to his Persephone from the cold, terrifying underworld, unable to bear separation any longer, wanting his wife back.

She was like Cora, stolen from her mother by her own uncle, the god of death, cold as black marble, who devoured her and her light every day.

She moaned into his mouth at that thought, letting their lips melt together in greedy, loud, fiery kisses full of their saliva, their tongues colliding and licking each other, their hands clenched on their bodies refusing to let go.

A pleasant tingling sensation rippled through her lower abdomen as she let him slide deep inside her, all the way in, responding eagerly to his every sharp, sure push.

"– yes – yes, yes, yes, baby, yes –" He breathed out into her throat, thrusting his hips forward so that he slammed into her at the angle where he could give her the greatest pleasure. She hugged his neck, pressing her forehead against his, looking deeply into his eyes, seeing in them everything she wanted.

He was helpless, weak, thirsty, terrified, in love.

"– please –" He mumbled, and she snuggled into him, sinking her swollen lips into his, feeling her weeping cunt begin to throb around his erection, sucking it inside. They both groaned, letting their bodies find their own pace, with the loud splats of their bodies building their way to their fulfilment.

"– I love you – I love you –" She whispered into his mouth again, again and again, feeling his cock twitching deep inside her each time, all wet with her fleshy walls, dripping with her desire, his fingers digging hard into the soft skin of her ass letting her know he was close to his peak.

His free hand tightened on her hair and his lips pressed against hers as he came inside her, bursting into a sob the sound of which was muffled by her throat, his eyes clenched in pleasure and pain as one by one tears began to run down his cheeks red with emotion.

There were no words with which she could reassure him, explain to herself or him the relief they felt when they both finally came to terms with what had happened, the fact that there was never any going back for them, that all the bad decisions they had made were because they believed they would only be a disappointment to each other.

Meanwhile, he had found peace, solace, fulfilment in her.

His lost haven.

She cuddled him into her, letting him snuggle against her chest, his arms enclosing her in a tight grip as her hand stroked his hair and face slowly, trying to reassure him.

"– I'm here – it's alright – shhh, my love –" She whispered, her voice like the quiet hum of the sea.

She felt him tremble all over with emotion, his breath heavy and uneven, his embrace pathetically childlike, innocent, wanting only to find shelter.

They lingered like this for a long time, trailing their fingers over each other's bodies, once in a while placing a gentle, warm, soft kiss on each other's skin, his soft manhood still deep inside her. His free hand stroked her bare buttock exactly as it had been before he had forcibly taken her for himself, never to return her again.

Her heart belonged to him.

Before she slid off him she kissed his forehead and his hand found hers, squeezing it, looking straight into her eyes.

"– I've never kissed any of them – I've never fallen asleep next to any of them –" He mumbled, and she smiled, wide and genuine.

They kissed again, this time tenderly and innocently, like when they were children, eight years ago, their lips only pressed together.

She sat down on the seat next to him as he switched off the emergency lights and moved on, trying hard in the darkness to find her panties. When she finally succeeded, she put them on over her legs and sighed.

His hand found hers blindly, their fingers entwined in a warm, sweet embrace.

Her heart was filled with affection so intense that she felt like it would burst.

When they got out of his car and she saw the big blue neon sign in front of her with the words Heavenly Beach and the two palm trees standing just outside the entrance, she felt herself grow sick at the mere memory of what had happened to her there – her uncle must have seen the horror in her eyes, as he walked up to her and placed his hand on her back.

"– let's go –" He said, his hand rising from her back to her shoulder, stroking her skin with his thumb.

The security guards standing in front of the entrance made big eyes at the sight of them – or rather at the sight of her uncle – and of course let them pass without a line, muttering under their breath a quiet ‘good evening, boss’.

He, however, did not answer them, not even bestowing a single glance on them, stepping into his role – when she looked at his face it was like stone, his gaze blank and dark.

Exactly as it was then, that day, during his father's birthday, when they were talking on the pier.

He let her walk in front of him between the people, but his fingers touched her waist, her shoulder, or her back again and again, as if he wanted to give her a sense of security, the fact that he was close and nothing was threatening her.

She swallowed hard as she saw that people sitting at tables or dancing on the dance floor were looking at them, saying something to each other, intrigued and terrified.

She wondered if they had just talked to each other about the fact that she was the famous girl he was related to and liked to fuck.

Although she shouldn't, she felt amusement and pride at the thought.

For her he had given up everything.

For her he defied his grandfather.

For her, he became a different kind of monster.

Her Hades.

When they reached the lodge where his men and associates were apparently seated, everyone froze: there were young girls hugging most of them, some looking more defiant, others sweet, laughing loudly, looking at her with big eyes.

On the table, besides whisky and vodka, lay a white powder that they were apparently just snorting through their noses.

She stopped and looked at her uncle, not knowing what to do or where to sit, after a moment, however, several men moved over, making room for them, seating themselves on the other side.

"– come –" He whispered in her ear so that she barely heard it, his hand touching her back.

So she sat up first, not knowing where to look, and he sat down beside her, his hand immediately on the side of her waist, holding her close.

"– why are there such delays in payment? – I warned your father that one more situation like this and I would take over the Black Storm – I knew he had problems with reading, but I didn't know he had them with counting as well –" Her uncle hissed harshly and coldly, looking over the gathered with a gaze from which she herself shuddered, yet feeling no fear.

His thumb stroked her waist almost invisibly, but she felt it, his gesture indicating that she shouldn't worry about it and let him do his thing.

One of the girls twisted in place, crossing her legs, bending over slightly, probably because she wanted her rather impressive cleavage to be seen better. She smiled in a way that was probably meant to be seductive, but she wasn't sure it impressed her uncle.

When she looked at his face she could see that he was bored and impatient.

"– my father is not happy with the fact that you have assigned him so few people – by having so much goods coming through the club, he thinks he deserves more protection –" She said, fiddling with her necklace with the logo of some expensive, tacky shop.

"– Floris –" Her uncle began, rather calmly and gently. "– don't piss me off –"

The girl swallowed hard, her hand frozen in a half-motion, as if she wondered if she had overheard herself.

"– your father got as much of my people as I saw fit – if he has a grievance, let him sell the club back to me and I'll pay him off – the deal was different – several of my boys complained about you and your sisters not knowing the boundaries of good manners and that you make them drive around town like princesses in their free time –" He said coldly, complete silence all around him.

She looked at him in disbelief, seeing the fire in his gaze, his jaw clenched in rage, his fingers on her waist involuntarily digging into her skin under her dress.

Her heart was pounding like mad.

Floris licked her full lower lip, clearly thinking hard about something.

"– is that your famous niece? – her persona is already legendary in our circles –" She said, something in her uncle's gaze that frightened her.

His face was suddenly indifferent, his irises completely black and empty: she thought he looked like a predator who was just looking at his prey.

She involuntarily touched his thigh, wanting to reassure him, but he didn't look at her, apparently afraid that he would then step out of his role.

"– what's your name? –" She turned suddenly towards her, all eyes on them.

She froze, not knowing what to do or say, for she was not supposed to speak after all – she looked at her uncle, his gaze fixed on her face, full of pain, rage, but also affection.

She felt his hand stroke her waist, his wordless permission for her to speak.

She looked around at the faces around her, men and women huddled against their chests, staring at her as if she were some rare object in a museum they were looking at from behind glass.

"– Rhaenys –" She whispered.

She felt his hand on the back of her head, and with a soft movement he forced her to lean in, nuzzling her face into the hollow of his neck, as if he wanted to protect her.

"– you will get one more of my men, but no more driving you shopping or to the beautician – my men are not your dogs –" He said coolly, but already a little more politely, as if he hoped that if he complied with her request, she would leave her alone.

Floris wanted to say something, but was interrupted by another man, tanned and handsome, with dark hair elegantly combed back and an evenly trimmed beard.

"– we have a problem with one of the deliveries – several packages are stuck at the border – the police are bribed, but the prosecutor's office is snooping around and trying to get the secret service involved –" He said, and her uncle sighed heavily, hugging her closer to him, putting his hand on her head so that he covered her ear.

He didn't want her to listen.

"– talk to who you need to talk to, Cole – we're not short of money, but we're short of trusted people – we need someone in the prosecutor's office – let them focus on the human traffickers, not us –" He said, but she heard it as if through a fog, the blinking, bright lights around her tiring her already exhausted eyes, so she just closed them.

She could hear conversations and music all around her, felt her uncle glancing down at her, stroking her back, apparently wanting her to just fall asleep in his embrace. As a natural reflex, she placed her hand on his chest, where his heart was beating, and he did not push her away.

She could feel him smoking a cigarette, the smell of his black leather jacket, his aftershave and his own scent calmed her, making her finally do what he wanted and fall asleep.

She shuddered when she felt him shake her gently, there was no one around them on the couch. He took a strand of her hair behind her ear, his lips placing a soft, tender kiss on her forehead.

"– we'll sleep here in my office and drive back to the hotel in the morning – okay? –" He whispered, and she only nodded.

She let him take her in his arms and lift her up, holding her buttocks. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging her cheek to his, seeing the last drunken people sitting at the bar and dancing on the dance floor, barely able to stay on their feet, as if through a haze.

They walked into some dark corridor, then she heard the clack of keys and the sound of a door opening. When they got inside it was completely dark until he turned on the desk lamp – he walked over to the sofa and laid her on it, pulling his leather jacket off over her head.

He turned off the light and came to her, laying on the cramped space behind her back, covering their bodies with his jacket, his face snuggled into the hollow of her neck, his hands closed on her breasts.

"– sleep – you're safe with me –" He whispered, and she simply tightened her fingers on his arms, surrounded by his wonderfully familiar warmth.

"– you're my Hades – and I'm your Persephone – that's how I see us –" She hummed, half asleep, and he froze, cuddling her into himself harder.

"– Persephone –" She heard him hum next to her ear and closed her eyes, feeling at peace.

His Queen of the Underworld.

She thought she had only been sleeping for a few minutes when the alarm clock on his phone snapped them out of their deep slumber, but it turned out that it had actually been several hours. They left the club through the back exit to which her uncle had the keys and got into his car, barely conscious and tired.

"– I need to get a coffee at some station –" He muttered, starting the engine, and she nodded.

She couldn't believe that the boy who sat next to her now and the one she saw then, at that table, were the same person.

They stopped at the station to buy themselves something to drink and to eat. Her boyfriend stepped behind her, placing his hands on her hips, leaning over her ear.

"– look how many lollipops you have, a whole lot to choose from – I'll buy you some if you want –" He murmured, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, and she smiled involuntarily, feeling a pleasant warmth in her belly at his words.

"– strawberry –" She said and heard him smile too, satisfied.

"– I'll have coffee, tea, two sandwiches, this strawberry lollipop and this candy bracelet –" He said and she hugged him like a teddy bear, feeling only joy, only peace.

She didn't know how it was possible that they were so happy, that in some fucked up, unexplained way it was working.

They, together.

It seemed so right.

As they moved further down the road it was just beginning to dawn. Eating her lollipop and looking around it was only after a while that she noticed they were driving the wrong way.

"– where are we going? – you need to turn back –" She said, looking behind her, feeling a sudden attack of panic and terror.

No, no, no, no, please, God, no.

Her uncle looked at her surprised, his mouth parted wide when he realised what had frightened her.

"– no – no, baby, easy – we'll go back to the hotel, but later – there's one place I want to visit on the way – nothing bad, I promise –" He said, squeezing her hand in his, but she remained uneasy until she realised that she had seen the landscapes they passed before.

They were driving to the sea.

She felt a tightness in her throat as he parked close to the beach, on the other side of which was the large villa that now belonged to him, where they had then spent their entire holiday.

As soon as they got out of the car she was struck by the pleasant, crisp sea breeze, the squeal of seagulls flying over their heads and that familiar hum. She moved ahead thinking how when she was a child it all seemed so much bigger to her, reaching into infinity, as if this sea had no end.

She felt the tears one by one run down her face as she heard their childish voices in the back of her head, the precious coins, shells, cartridges and bottles they found, thinking themselves explorers.

She pulled off her shoes as she stepped onto the sand, wanting to feel it under her feet – it was pleasantly warm and soft, slightly damp, exactly as she remembered it. She only stopped at the shore, the salt water washing over the toes of her feet, the sun rising lazily over the horizon.

She felt his arms embrace her shoulders, snuggling her back into his body, his lips placed a soft, gentle kiss on her neck.

"– in my fantasies, I always imagined that I would take you here again – that I would be standing with you, as I am now, watching the sun rise –" He said, she heard him smile, while at the same time his voice was breaking, as if he was as moved as she was.

Her fingers clenched on his arms at the thought, her hair blown by the light breeze.

"– have you often thought about what we have lost here? –" She asked quietly, looking far ahead, thinking that somehow a new day had dawned for them too.

She swallowed hard when his fingers ran over the inside of her wrist, tracing the thin line of her scar.

"– relentlessly – it was like torture – thinking of hundreds of scenarios – what would have happened if I hadn't been your uncle, if my father hadn't been submerged in all that shit, if I hadn't lost an eye then, if Rhaenyra hadn't taken you away from there that day –" He said with a regret from which she felt a sting in her heart.

She looked at him over her shoulder, and his full lips, in some natural, sweet reflex of tenderness, placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– I took you from your mother – I forced you to sink into the darkness with me –" He whispered, stroking her silky cheek with his thumb, something in the look of his healthy eye from which she felt a pleasant pulsing between her thighs.

"– it was my choice this time –"

He swallowed hard at her words, something in his gaze from which she felt a shiver, as if he had made a decision.

"– I want to be the father of your children – I want us to be a family – to have a home – a future –" He whispered, letting her go slowly – as she turned, he saw that he had knelt down.

"– Aemond, what are you –" She gasped, terrified, unsure if he really wanted to do what she was thinking, his gaze hot and pleading, filled with tears.

"– I want it, Rhaenys – fuck, I've always wanted it – I don't give a shit about this country, about the law, about morality, about good manners, about how and why we're related –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, looking at her with eyes big with terror and affection, making her heart stop in her throat.

"– but if I pay the right people, if we get a dispensation, we can have a religious marriage, the one in the church – I don't give a damn if I have to bribe the Pope himself and all the cardinals in the Vatican, I don't care how long it takes – please –" He sobbed, clamping his hands on her waist, pressing his face into her stomach, trying to catch his breath.

She swallowed hard, feeling her hands tremble, still raised in the air, tears one by one running down her face red with emotion.

After all, they had been together for such a short time, she thought.

And yet they had loved each other all their lives.

"– yes –" She whispered.

She saw him lift his head, meeting her gaze, his lips parted in a heavy breath of shock and disbelief.

"– do you mean it? –"

She nodded, not knowing what more she could say, feeling helpless and ashamed.

"– we've completely lost our minds –" She mouthed, wiping her red face, trying to calm down as he got up quickly from his knees, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket.

She involuntarily burst out laughing when she saw that he had taken out the candy bracelet he had bought her earlier at the station.

"– what? – they didn't have rings – I had a difficult task –" He grunted, putting the bracelet on her wrist, sweet and colourful.

She looked up at him with a smile as he pulled her close, looking at her with a gaze in which she saw only love.

"– then you get to pick out a real ring for yourself, and this is something you can eat – it's a win-win situation –" He purred, and as she threw her arms around his neck they kissed tenderly, melting their lips together in a warm, moist kiss.

She stroked his cheek as he pressed his forehead against hers, both of them looking sideways towards the building that had once belonged to his father.

"That's where we'll raise our children. One day."

They walked the distance to the house where they had spent that holiday on foot along the beach, holding hands, taking exactly the same route as every day when they seemed to be the happiest children in the world.

When they finally arrived at their destination and her uncle opened the door with the keys he had taken out of his trouser pocket, she was struck by how, although everything looked the same, it was completely different. The main hall and corridor seemed cramped to her, the smell inside was stifling, indicative of the fact that no one had gone inside for many years.

They both made their way up the stairs – she involuntarily headed for the room that belonged to her at the time.

She looked inside, feeling some strange kind of discomfort and fear, as if she were about to see something terrifying. However, she saw before her an ordinary, bright little room with white wooden furniture, the bed she had slept on for the first few nights, a desk, a few chairs and a wardrobe.

She approached it with a smile, seeing that it was, as always, slightly ajar, the long, old gowns of Alicent sticking out of it.

"– I always thought it was the tentacles of a monster – that's what it looked like at night – I was afraid someone was hiding inside and would devour me –" She said, stepping closer, tucking the soft material into her fingers, feeling her uncle's presence behind her.

She heard him swallow hard, his fingers running over her back in an affectionate gesture.

"– let's go to my room –"

She stared at the bookshelf filled with small volumes of Mighty Vhagar stories panting along with him, hearing his grunts and sighs of pleasure at her ear each time with the soft, lazy thrust of his hips he sank into her moist, warm flesh, welcoming him home.

They were bare; the embrace of their arms held them close, as if they felt subconsciously that they needed to experience this together, here, in this place, to take something that had been taken from them. Her fingers traveled along his neck and down his spine to his buttocks, kneading them in her palms, his low groan of pleasure and the shudder that shook him testified to what he thought of her touch.

"– who took you for the first time? – hm? –" He breathed out into her ear, stroking her soft hair, slowly quickening his pace.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, letting his full, thirsty mouth find the crook of her neck, her leaking pussy opening again and again on his hard, swollen erection, filled to the brim with him.

"– you – here, on this bed –" She whispered and felt his cock throb harder inside her, delighted by her response. His fingers clamped down on the soft skin of her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, his mouth wide open, his gaze clouded with pleasure and something else, darker, deeper.

"– are you sure? – not some Robb? –" He hissed, something in his words sounding both threatening and despairing at the same time, his deep desire to regain everything in his mind he had lost over these eight years.

She shook her head, combing her fingers through his short hair, spreading her thighs wider in front of him, rocking her hips in response to his lustful, sharp thrusts, the slapping of their bodies against each other loud and shameless, sticky with her moisture.

"– no – Alys, Robb – it was just a dream, my love –" She whispered. His brow arched in pain as he leaned towards her, his puffy, moist lips finding hers in a sweet, tender, warm kiss, at once childlike and mature, full of affection.

They groaned into each other's throats as his wide hands clamped down on the soft skin of her buttocks, his hips began to slam into her slick, throbbing pussy as if he wanted to erase any trace that deep inside her could ever be another man.

"– I will never let you go –" He breathed out, their tongues meeting halfway, licking the very tips of each other, making them both gasp with delight.

She threw her arms around his neck and let him sink into her mouth, his body pressing her to the bed, which creaked loudly beneath their silhouettes writhing in ecstasy, the slaps and clicks of her moisture so loud that its sound brought her to the edge of her peak.

"– uncle – take care of me – ah –" She mewled and threw her head back, moaning from the sweet delight that shook her body, his loud, surprised gasp told her that he had come too, his body froze in stillness, wanting to focus only on the greedy pulsing of their bodies around each other.

She felt his warm seed inside her, a pleasant tingling in her lips, in her nipples and the corners of her fingers at the thought that her own uncle loved her a little too much.

Afterwards, they lay in silence, cuddled into each other: her head was lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the fingers of his hand roaming her naked body from her shoulders, to her head, neck and back, making her shiver.

"– our parents will never accept this –" She whispered, stroking his stomach with her hand. She heard him sigh softly, his fingers combing through her hair.

"– it's too late anyway –"

Although they were terribly tired and could barely see with their eyes, trying to stay awake while they worked, they were both happy. Even though no one understood the meaning of the bracelet on her wrist, he kept playing with it when he said or asked her something, making her walk around smiling all day.

And then she noticed her mother in the distance talking to her professor.

"Miss Strong. Would you please come over?" He called out, and she froze, feeling her heart stop beating.

She'd endured anything, the screams of Daemon and Jace, but not this.

Not her.

When she looked at her uncle, she saw panic in his eyes.

She lowered her head and moved forward, unable to even look at her.

They sat down in one of the tents where the workers usually rested during breaks, but now it was empty, and she knew that this conversation could not be heard by anyone.

Her mother's hand clamped down on hers as soon as he sat down next to her, its familiar touch making her feel tears welling under her eyelids and a deep, all-encompassing shame.

"Why aren't you answering your phone? Do you know what it feels like to die of worry and then hear that your child has turned up with a gangster at his club? What did he do to you that you do things like that, get sucked into this world?" She asked in pain, and she remained silent, looking at her legs, feeling her whole body was shaking.

When she finally looked at her, what she said slipped out of her involuntarily.

"Then, during that holiday by the sea, before he lost his eye. We kissed. I was even his girlfriend for a while. He let me sleep in his bed when I was afraid of the dark." She muttered, feeling the tears of shame run down her face one by one.

Rhaenyra shook her head, looking at her as if she did not understand what she had just heard.

"It never ended between us, Mum. Quite the contrary. We sleep together. We are together." She sobbed out with difficulty, and her mother took her hand from hers, looking at her with wide eyes.

"What did he do to you, what did he put into your head to make you do such awful things? He is using you to show everyone that he has me and Daemon in his grasp. That he rules this city because neither I nor his grandfather can do anything to him now. He brags about you like a trophy. Good God, this is not how I raised you." She said in a quivering voice full of regret and disappointment, from which her heart broke.

She pressed her lips together, playing with the bracelet on her wrist in a nervous gesture, seeing a scar beneath it, his two faces, two parts of his love.

Light and Darkness.

Kora and Persephone.

Her mother had to come to terms with the fact that from now on she would spend part of the year in Hades.

She drew in air loudly, whooping with tears, not knowing what to say.

The words he loves me sounded so cheesy and naïve.

"I love him, Mom. I want to stay by his side."

Her mother shook her head, as if her words had made something inside her snap.

"He will destroy you. He'll drown you in his own greed like tar. He's already done it. He manipulated you into leaving us, your own family."

"It was my decision." She said in pain, feeling her heart pounding like mad, her breath heavy and ragged.

"You have completely lost your mind." She said coldly, rising from her seat, making her freeze all over, feeling a squeeze in her throat. "The door to your home will always remain open for you when your common sense returns. You are an adult and sooner or later you will feel the consequences of your choice. You will never be safe again, you will never be able to go anywhere alone, he will create a cage for you, just like…"

"… just like the one Daemon created for us? I've managed to get used to it. I, at least, don't pretend to be free." She growled, surprised by her own words.

Her mother pressed her lips together in pain and walked out, leaving her with a complete emptiness in her mind.

She felt awful – as she walked out, she felt the sun hit her hard, her face flooded with tears. Her uncle approached her quickly, horror and concern on his face.

"– what did she say? – no, no, calm down – calm down, shhh, come here –" He muttered as she went into a state of complete panic, covering her face with her hands, bursting into such a strong sob that she felt like she was about to spit out her own lungs.

She was unable to control herself or calm down, everything around her seemed to be spinning, his warm hands and arms cradling her was the only thing that kept her from falling to her knees.

You will never be safe again.

You will never be able to go anywhere alone again.

He will create a cage for you.

But wasn't that the life she had lived for as long as she could remember?

Her father, Daemon, her uncle.

She was never free.

She just didn't realise it as a child.

That night they only embraced, but there was something beautiful about it: the thought that he knew she didn't want sex now, but his closeness and tenderness, his broad hands stroking her back and hair, his full lips kissing again and again her forehead and nose.

"When I live with you, will I be able to go out alone?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed hard, running his fingers down her back, surprised by her question.

"Well… it depends where and during what time of day." He said uncertainly, tense.

She pressed her hands tighter against his warm skin – it was so hot he was only wearing black tracksuit bottoms.

"To the shop. To the bookshop. To class." She whispered, his lips placing another warm kiss on her forehead, clearly wanting to soften what was about to leave his throat.

"I'm constantly being watched. People who don't wish me well probably already know that you're not just a chick I fuck. You are my weakness and if I lose my guard, they will try to take advantage of that. I would prefer to keep the risk that something could happen to you to a complete minimum." He explained hesitantly, brushing his fingertips against her collarbone.

"So no." She said regretfully, feeling an unpleasant chokehold in her throat at the thought that she had escaped from one cage only to be locked in another.

She heard him sigh as he lifted her chin with his finger so that she looked at him.

"If something were to happen to you because of me. How would I explain it to your mother? To Daemon? How would I continue to live with it? We can go to your classes together. You can be driven to the shop and other places by my people, who will just wait for you in the car and not bother you. We will work something out. You are not my prisoner, but I have to keep you safe in some way. Do you understand me?" He asked, and she looked at him.

"Are you going to check my phone?"

"No."

"How can I be sure?"

"I trust you."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, his fingers tracing gently across her cheek making her feel a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

"I want you to take me with you when you run your errands."

"Absolutely not." He replied immediately, his face curved in an expression full of annoyance and frustration.

"Why? You did it last time." She muttered in pain, feeling rejected, like a small child who could not be trusted with an adult task.

"It was a mistake. I exposed you." He said regretfully, his thumb running over the line of her jaw. "It will never happen again."

"So you're going to come back in the morning to fuck me, have breakfast, go for a walk with Vhagar, sleep off, and then disappear again, leaving me alone?" She asked with despair, unsure if she could bear what he asked of her.

She saw him press his lips together, horrified at how it sounded from her mouth, certainly simply not knowing what to say.

"What do you expect from me?" He asked quietly. She was silent for a moment, feeling the quick pounding of her heart.

"Honesty. If I have to endure this in silence, I want to know what's going on. I want you to tell me what's happening in your clubs and pubs, what problems you're having, what you're facing, who you're seeing. Because if you can't give me either honesty, freedom or choice, then there's no hope for us."

"Would you leave otherwise?" He asked, looking at her with his eyebrows arched in pain, stroking her warm cheek with his palm.

"If you had locked me away, told me nothing and treated me as your consolation prize after a hard day? What would you do if I made you sit in my flat, while I met with Robb? You would certainly be a happy, fulfilled man then." She said coldly, making him swallow hard, lowering his gaze in shame.

"In that case, I'll tell you everything." He whispered.

She shook her head and grinned under her breath, feeling tears under her eyelids.

"You know what the worst thing is? That I don't believe you."

He looked at her, his eyes big and filled with suffering, as if something in those words of hers had hurt him particularly badly.

"I'm trying."

She felt her heart squeeze at his words, which were so simple, so direct.

So sincere.

Because, after all, she knew they were true.

"I know."

He licked his lower lip and drew in air, as if he was thinking very hard about what he wanted to say, as if he was afraid he wouldn't be able to describe it properly.

"I get the feeling that whatever I do – no matter how hard I try – it's not enough for you. You always want more. As if it were that simple. To protect you at the same time, to meet all your needs, to not come into conflict with Daemon and to be a good student. I stand caught between dozens of things and get lost in it. The right choice in one context is the wrong one in another. I don't know what to do to please you anymore." He confessed in a trembling voice filled with regret, sadness and fatigue, from which she felt ashamed.

While her feelings and thoughts were valid, she realised on hearing his words that she had put an enormous amount of pressure on him without even thinking about how he would be able to bring all these things together and at the same time make their world not fall apart.

"You're right. I'm sorry." She whispered, his eyes growing wide in surprise, as if he hadn't expected to hear that from her. "I know how hard you're trying. I'm proud of you and I love you more than ever before. The reason I have a lot of concerns is because I realise how difficult our situation is. I just want us to succeed."

"I want us to succeed too." He muttered. "It's the only thing I want. But please, baby, try to understand me."

There was something sweet and natural about the way their bodies snuggled into each other and embraced, wanting to comfort and soothe each other, to give them the feeling that they were trying to find their way together.

She decided that there was no turning back for her now.

Parting from him would mean that she would always be dying in agony.

When their work ended, their professor thanked and congratulated them all, telling them that all the objects they found would be exhibited in the castle museum after conservation.

Her fiancé was tired, but also happy: after just a few days there he was able to work independently, knew the procedures and was able to find his way in this rather chaotic world.

The oldest thing he found were the remains of a beautiful medieval steel dagger, of which he even took a photo as a souvenir.

She thought fondly that their childhood play had turned into a passion.

They were both excited at the thought of her moving into his apartment. It was in the city centre in a very nice, modern high-rise building and was surprisingly large.

When she stepped inside, she noticed a huge space stretching out in front of her: the gigantic living room was decorated with nice modern dark wood furnitures. A big sofa, bookshelves and a TV was practically all that was there – one of the walls was composed of only windows, making the whole room seem incredibly bright.

Adjacent to the living room was the kitchen on one side, while on the other stretched a small corridor leading to other rooms and the bathroom.

"Where is Vhagar?" She asked, not seeing her or her bedding. Her uncle looked at her surprised, placing their bags on the floor.

"At Helaena's. She took care of her while we were away. She'll bring her back tonight." He explained and nodded for her to follow him.

He opened one of the rooms in front of her, which looked like a gym and storage for things that didn't fit in the other rooms.

"It can be your room. So you can run away from me when you want and all that. I'll organise a gym in the basement, it's quite spacious." He hummed, running his hand over her back. She looked up at him and nodded.

"I've ordered a removal team for your house. They should bring everything tomorrow if they don't encounter any difficulties." He said, heading towards the kitchen. "I don't have anything to eat. We have to go shopping."

They spent the rest of the day lazily – they cooked the simplest spaghetti and ate it while watching TV – there was a programme on ancient Egyptian history that was airing at the time, which piqued their interest, so they just spread out on the sofa with their bowls and listened to a lecture by one of Egypt's most famous archaeologists as he spoke about the pyramid at Giza.

It was so wonderfully normal.

She felt uncomfortable when Helaena brought Vhagar – she didn't know where to look, thinking with shame that she must have thought she was a complete idiot after trying to take her own life by living with the man who did this to her in the first place.

"Are you two together?" She asked softly, and her brother nodded.

"I'm glad. Take care of each other." She said, and she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that she was the first person to wish them well.

Her uncle looked at her, a gentle smile on his face that made her hot.

Hades and Persephone.

"We will."

_____

Author's note: My husband often asks me when we argue what I expect from him and describes his feelings about how the situation looks from his perspective. He doesn't do it maliciously, and it helps me understand that sometimes I really want something different than what I say and that there is often a lot of truth in his words. I didn't know for a long time how to lead the conversation between Aemond and Rhaenys at the very end when they talk about their future and difficult topics and it turned out that the best scripts are written by life, lol.

[itneverendshere]

erase all of my memories without you - rafe cameron.

part 2 of can't remember anything before you.

pairing: rafe cameron x thornton!reader; brother's best friend! trope or best friend's sister! trope lmao; fem!reader.

word count: a lot??

WARNINGS: boyfriend!rafe <3; rafe being the biggest lover boy; tooth-rotting fluff if im being honest; topper's a dick but just for a sec; rafe is down bad; so cute.

“rafe, i told you, no hickeys!”

“can you blame me?” he has that mischievous gleam in his eyes, like he's testing just how far he can push your boundaries. “you’re just so pretty, baby.”

you roll your eyes, trying to maintain a serious tone despite the playful grin pulling at your lips. “shut up.” 

being with rafe cameron was not on your yearly plans, but every single day, you thank your lucky stars for finally doing something right. he's a total game-changer, your personal slice of heaven. 

who would have thought the universe had that kind of surprise up its sleeve? 

he leans in closer, breath warm against your ear, arms wrapped securely around your waist, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. "i should visit more often if that’s how you’re going to greet me each time.”

you can't help but lean back into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness.

"you should." you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers gently tracing circles on his hand. “wouldn't mind that at all."

you’d been together ever since that fateful night in your garden, months ago. 

sneaking around had its thrills, especially with your brother always lurking nearby, but nothing compared to the challenge of a long-distance relationship. late-night calls, stolen moments of intimacy over video chats, and endless messages are your lifelines. 

so when rafe finally stepped through the door of your new york apartment last night, after weeks apart, it was no surprise that you couldn't help but pounce on him, eager to make up for lost time. his slutty grey sweatpants, his choice of comfortable for a flight, were imprinted into your brain. 

“so, so pretty." he murmurs, lips brushing against your earlobe, “y'know i can't resist leaving my mark on you."

you playfully swat at him, a grin spreading across your face despite your half-hearted protest, “topper would kill you."

rafe snorts, the sound traveling through your body as he presses a kiss to your temple, “he can try.”

you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of keeping your relationship with rafe under wraps. it’s not like you don’t want to make it official, god, you do. but you’ve spent the last four months having him all to yourself, you don’t want other people to butt in and ruin everything with their unsolicited opinions. 

being with him feels right. he's your rock, your constant in a world that's always changing. 

“can we go back to bed now?” rafe’s warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks, his voice laced with a hint of grogginess, sleep still clouding his brain, “it’s fucking freezing.”

you chuckle quietly at his sleepy request, the sound mixing with the gentle hum of the heater as it struggles to combat the winter chill.

“course." you murmur, unwrapping yourself from his arms to press a tender kiss to his cheek, "let's get you warmed up."

his fingers don’t let you move an inch away, circling your wrist to pull you closer against his chest again, big cheeky smile on his face as he looks down at you. “you gonna warm me up, peach?”

"i might." you reply with a sly smirk, trailing a finger down his shirtless chest. "but you might have to work for it a little."

rafe's eyes widen with mock surprise. "is that so?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he pulls you closer. “well, lucky for you, i’m up for a challenge."

you’d never felt butterflies in your tummy until you started dating this man. he has you wrapped around his fingers, and you don’t want out. it physically hurts you to even think about a time when you didn’t have rafe like this.

you can't imagine being anywhere else but here, wrapped in his embrace.

with a playful giggle, you give him a knowing look. "’m counting on it," you murmur, as you pull him closer. you stand on your barefoot tiptoes, arms lacing around his neck. “really missed you.”

rafe's arms tighten around you as he pulls you impossibly close, his warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. his gaze softens, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter even faster.

 “missed you too, more than you know." he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in to press a docile kiss to your lips.

“always thinking about my girl.” 

as his lips meet yours, a wave of warmth washes over you, melting away any lingering traces of cold or distance. fuck, you’re in love with him and if he keeps kissing you like this, you might confess earlier. you’re way in over your head.

you sigh contentedly against his lips, savoring the feeling of being so close to him after being apart for so long. his touch, his scent, his presence—all of it feels like home to you. breaking the kiss reluctantly, you rest your forehead against his.

“stop staring at me like that peach.” he scolds, but there’s no bite to his tone as his fingertips brush your cheek lightly. “gonna end up buying this fucking building if you keep that up.”

you smile again, that’s all you seem to do around him anyway, as his beautiful eyes sweep up from your lips to meet your own. “rafe cameron living in new york? i’d pay to see that.”

rafe chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and sending pleasant vibrations through your body. his fingers trace lazy patterns along your cheek, his touch sweet and affectionate.

“you'd pay to see it, huh?" he teases, a playful glint in his face as he leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin. “’m that good of an investment?”

you can't help but laugh at his playful banter, shaking your head. you love that you get to see this side of him, how soft he is with you, only you.

“you’re alright cameron.”

"jus’ alright?" he feigns offense, his hand moving to rest over his heart in an exaggerated manner. "take it back.”

“nop.”

rafe lets out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be wounded. "no?” 

you can't help but giggle at his theatrics, finding it endearing how he always manages to lighten the mood.

"you big baby." you tease, poking him playfully in the side.

“oh, i’ll show you big.”

before you can even wrap your brain around his innuendo, you’re being thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. he does it so effortlessly you almost swoon. 

you squeal in surprise, the sudden movement catching you off guard. "rafe, what the fuck?" you laugh, squirming slightly as he carries you effortlessly across the room. “what are you doing—hey!”

his palm smacks against one of your cheeks, covered by nothing except a pair of his ralph lauren boxers. “taking you to bed, where you belong.”

you play along, pretending to protest even as you secretly enjoy the attention. 

"and what if i don't want to go to bed?" you retort, trying to sound defiant.

rafe stops in his tracks, his grip tightening around your legs. "oh, trust me, peach," he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, "you definitely want to go to bed."

“hmm, not sure.”

“it’s okay brat, you’ll be sure soon enough." he teases, deep voice making you want to do the most immoral things on every single surface of your apartment.

a repeat of last night. 

you play along, feigning uncertainty as he deposits you gently onto the queen-sized bed, his stare burning with desire as he hovers over you, thick arms caging you in. one of your hands wraps around his bicep, nails grazing the skin as you glance up at him, head tilted to the side.

rafe’s eyes instantly move to your neck as your hair slips behind, tongue poking out to wet his lips, "i don't know, baby, might have to convince me."

he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "consider it my pleasure." he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly gentle kiss.

you feel a shiver run down your back as rafe's lips meet yours, his kiss sending a surge of electricity through your body. you’ll never get used to this. his touch is both tender and assertive, his lips moving against yours with a practiced finesse that leaves you breathless. 

it's like every nerve in your being wakes up, responding eagerly to his touch.

as he deepens the kiss, his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips with a possessive urgency, with a sense of familiarity as if committing every curve to memory. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving into your mouth in a hungry, desperate kiss. you melt against him, surrendering. 

you feel a surge of heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat as he explores you with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

“better than alright?” he mumbles against your lips and you find yourself unable to resist the pull of his touch, arching against him in silent invitation. his lips trail a path of fire along your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, “lost your voice, huh?”

he’s so addicted to sucking harshly on your skin, nibbling it playfully to drag out and elicit the sweetest sounds from your mouth. a melodic moan escapes your parted lips.

“you’re such an asshole.”

“there she is.” rafe's husky chuckle fills the air, sending pleasant vibrations through your body as he continues to pepper kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fiery trail of craving in its wake. “’m your asshole though.”

“not if you keep teasing.” 

his lips pause their trail, hovering just above your skin as he looks up at you, one of his brows raised, "teasing?”

before you can protest his lips are on yours again, hungry and demanding. his hands roam over your body with a newfound urgency, tracing every corner and eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. he has the audacity to hush you when he pins you harder with his hips, clothed cock rubbing perfectly against you. 

your nails can’t help but dig into his shoulders, pulling at the skin. the way he's moving against you makes you feel like getting on your knees and letting him do whatever he wants to you, for however long he wishes to.

but then, your stupid intercom is buzzing.

you both freeze, caught in the throes of passion interrupted. rafe drops his head on your shoulder, groaning. 

"seriously?" he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration as he rolls off you, giving you space to sit up.

“it’s probably breakfast.” you’re smoothing out your rumpled clothes— if you can call an oversized tee and boxers an outfit.

rafe lets out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back onto the bed, “’m so hard it hurts.” he whines, throwing an arm over his face.

“you’ll be fine.”

“can’t even see you right now, might cum in my sweats.” he mutters, his voice muffled by the fabric of your pillows.

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head at his melodramatic response.

"you're ridiculous." you tease, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

rafe peeks out from under his arm, giving you a glare, his bottom lip jutting out in a comically exaggerated pout. “and you're making me harder, stop touching me and go get the door.”

you lean in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, feet planted on the ground as you attempt to get up, but he’s quick to pull you down again. his beefy arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back on top of him.

“rafe.”

“gimme a kiss before you go.”

“though you didn’t want me to touch you.” you tease, leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips. it's meant to be quick, just a peck, but his hand snakes up to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. settling on your lower lip, he draws it into his mouth, sucking lightly, pushing you even closer. he runs his hands along your sides, one stopping just below your covered breasts—

“the door,” you manage to stutter out between kisses, “behave.”

when he finally pulls away, both your lips are slightly swollen, red and you’re both breathless.

 "there," you say as you push yourself off the bed once more. but this time, rafe lets you go without protest, admiring you with a lazy smile as you make your way to the door. 

when you moved back to new york three months ago, you chose to do it independently. while your parents owned at least three penthouses in the city, you needed something smaller. what was the point in living alone in such big apartments? you’d be miserable and alone most of the time.

you chose a smaller studio, fancy enough to be your type, but cozy enough to make you feel at home, even though you were miles away. 

as you reach the door, you glance back to see rafe still lounging in your bed, arms crossed lazily behind his head. you shake your own, turn back, and open the door.

your heart immediately falls through your ass.

“topper?!”

he ignores you, pushing you aside to enter as he focuses on removing the thick scarf around his neck, struggling to get it off as he rants.

“about damn time, you know how long i was outside?! swear to god i hate this city, it’s freezing for no reason and—is that rafe fucking cameron on your bed?!”

you freeze in place, feeling a knot form in your stomach as you watch topper's reaction unfold. rafe, ever the cool customer, sits up in bed, a smirk playing at his lips as he meets your brother’s incredulous gaze head-on. you can feel a headache forming in the back of your head. 

"hey, top." rafe geets, his tone casual as if he's just encountered an old friend. which he has because that’s his best friend. "long time no see?"

topper's eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of rafe lounging on your bed, “okay, okay. what the fuck is going on?”

he's going to freak out on you.

you clear your throat, trying to find the right words to explain the situation, “he’s visiting.”

top nods, not leaving his best friend out of his sight, “clearly! why are you in my sister’s bed, cameron?”

“was i supposed to sleep on the floor?” rafe replies, tone nonchalantly as he shrugs casually.

you’re going to kill him.

topper's jaw clenches as he shoots rafe a glare, clearly unimpressed by his answer. "you know damn well what i mean." he says, his voice menacing, so different from what you're used to.

rafe's smirk only widens, “relax, man," he says, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "we were just hanging out."

and about to have sex, but your brother doesn’t need all the details. 

topper's expression darkens further at your boyfriend’s flippant attitude, and you can practically feel the terrible outcome. 

"in her bed?" he asks, his voice dangerously low.

you step forward, hoping to defuse the situation before it escalates any further.

 "topper, it's not what you think," you begin, but your brother holds up a hand to silence you.

“and why are you wearing his clothes?”

you glance down at your choice of outfit, flustered, you try to come up with a plausible explanation, “uh—well—it's a funny story, i-i'm out of clothes actually, who knew doing your laundry took so much work?”

his attention flickers between you and rafe, suspicion evident in his expression. you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"out of clothes?" he repeats, his tone incredulous. "and you decided to borrow his?"

you shift uncomfortably under his scrutinization, trying to come up with a better explanation, but you can’t. “yeah?”

he squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s in pain, “please tell me my sister isn’t fucking my best friend.”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you, but rafe speaks before you can conjure the words. 

“your sister isn’t fucking your best friend, happy?” 

you shoot rafe a warning look, silently pleading for him to play along and not make the situation worse.

you step forward, again. “topper, please, it's not what you think,” you say, your voice tinged with desperation. “rafe just came to visit, that's all.”

topper's stare softens as he contemplates, but his expression remains guarded. “and you didn't think to tell me?”

you bite your lip, feeling guilty for keeping your relationship with rafe a secret from your brother. “i wanted to, i just... didn't know how.”

rafe interjects, his tone more serious now. “top, i know this probably looks bad—”

“it looks really bad,” topper interrupts, his frustration evident.

“but nothing's happened,” rafe continues, ignoring the interruption. “we're just friends.”

but your brother is still inspecting you. and it’s only when his eyes descend to your neck, you realize what he’s looking at.

“is that why she got at least three hickeys on her neck?”

you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as topper's accusation hangs heavy in the air. you stare nervously at rafe, hoping he'll come up with a believable explanation, but he just shrugs nonchalantly, as if the hickeys are no big deal. 

“they’re not hickeys, i burned myself with my curling iron.”

“yeah and i’m fucking adriana lima on my spare time.”

“okay?” you quickly turn your head back to the wall because you think you're about to puke up everything you just ingested.

"oh fuck, not you." top groans in frustration, seeing where rafe googly looks are directed, “not you two! you can't be serious?! that's my sister, dude; come on!" 

rafe finally stands up from your bed, his tone is firm, his expression serious as he steps closer to your brother, his hands held out in a placating gesture. “it’s not like that.”

topper glances back and forth between you two, focusing on the blush of your cheeks and the adoration in rafe’s face now that you are looking back at him. a sick, knowing feeling had been building inside of him since he walked through the door. 

“i can’t fucking believe this.” 

“it’s not like that,” rafe repeats, walking to your side, hating the way your eyes are starting to water. he keeps his hand on your arm, thumb brushing circles over your cold skin, “we’re together. and watch your fucking tone when you speak to her.”

“don’t tell me how to speak to my sister!"

rafe's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. despite that, his hand remains steady on your arm, offering you a silent anchor of support. you feel a knot tighten in your stomach as you testify the tension between the two most important men in your life escalates.

"guys, please," you interject, your voice trembling, "this isn't helping anything."

“you’re in love with her, cameron?”

topper’s question makes you want to dig a hole in the middle of your studio and run.

what the hell?!

he can’t just barge in and make everything a mess. this is what you were afraid of, people meddling with your relationship. you and rafe haven’t discussed it yet. yeah it’s clear you’re in love with him, but you want to be the one to tell him and vice versa. you don’t want him to feel pressured to do it.

rafe's hand tightens on your arm, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. his eyes search yours for guidance. you can see the conflict in his expression.

he doesn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never leaves yours. he traces every line of your face, “yeah, i am.”

the words hang in the air, a declaration that changes everything and nothing all at once. then time stops. your stomach turns unhelpfully, and you feel your skin turn clammy. 

from the corner of your eye, you see the shock register on your brother’s face before he can hide it. strangely, he seems to understand now, perhaps more than you realized he would. for a moment, there's silence in the room, the weight of rafe's confession settling over all of you. but then topper lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging with the weight of understanding.

"okay," he says, his voice softer now, lacking the edge of anger from before. "okay."

you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, feeling a sense of relief flood through you. despite the uncertainty of what comes next. 

rafe's hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. you squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch grounding you. 

"thank you," you say to topper, your voice barely above a whisper but brimmed with gratitude.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "just... take care of each other, okay?"

“can you leave now?” rafe all but interrupts the sentimental exchange, “kinda need to properly confess.”

topper raises an eyebrow at his abrupt request, clearly caught off guard by the bluntness. but after a second of hesitation, he nods, pushing himself off the wall where he's been leaning.

"yeah, sure," he says, giving you a meaningful look before turning to leave. "just... be careful, both of you. i’ll stop by later for dinner."

you offer him a small smile in return, feeling a shit ton of emotions swirling inside you as you watch him go. once he's out of sight, you let out a sigh, the tension in the room finally dissipating.

rafe releases your hand, moving to close the door behind topper before returning to your side. his expression is softer now, focused solely on you. 

"you okay?" he asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

you nod, offering him a shaky smile. "yeah, think so. that was... unexpected."

rafe pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let you go. 

"m’ sorry peach," he murmurs against your hair, his voice filled with regret. "didn't mean to drop that bomb on ya like that."

you sink into his embrace, finding comfort in the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. "t's okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you nuzzle into his chest. "just wish it had been different."

he presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms tightening around you protectively. "i know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves.

then, as if a floodgate has opened within you, the words spill from your lips, raw and unfiltered. "i’m in love with you too, rafe."

his arms around you tighten, as if to reassure himself that your words are real. 

"i love you," he murmurs against your hair, "more than anything."

you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “you’re gonna make me cry.”

he pulls back slowly, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that have started to fall. "hey now, no tears, baby. only happy ones, yeah?"

you nod, sniffling but managing a watery smile. "yeah, happy tears. because i love you, rafe cameron."

he smiles back, a gentleness in him you've never seen before. 

"and i love you, more than anything in this world."

you can't help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your cheeks. his stare is full of tenderness, his thumb gently brushing away the last traces of tears.

"you're everything, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice overflowing with sincerity.

you nod, feeling a lump forming in your throat at the depth of his words. "yeah, i do. and so are you.”

he leans in closer, lips capturing yours in a sweet kiss. he moves against you with a gentle fervor, his hands cradling your face as if you're the most precious thing in the world to him. and in that moment, you know without a doubt that you are and as you pull away, breathless yet content, you rest your forehead against his, savoring the closeness and the warmth that surrounds you.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you too, always," rafe replies, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.