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mickandmusings · 4 months ago

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hell or high water

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: lazy saturday nights with tyler were few and far between, especially during the spring months, when he and the wranglers found themselves hopping from one midwest city to the next. today the skies were uncharacteristically clear, and tyler wanted nothing more than to spend his night curled up next to his girl.

for the always lovely @fraaaaankiiiiieee , who always supports my delusional ideas <3

warnings: just fluff really, domestic life w/ tyler; situational angst, but no broken hearts in this one <3; some suggestively smutty moments but nothing explicit; inaccurate descriptions of tornadoes (i'm a mississippi girly, we don't even take shelter, we stand on our porches during tornadoes don't blame me); I wrote this at 2am, so forgive any weird inconsistencies or mistakes, thanks

The morning had been uncharacteristically quiet, almost eerily calm. Tyler had woken early, per usual, and rose to his feet, earning him a grumble from the girl who slept curled into his chest for warmth. He'd apologize with a cup of coffee later, knowing she wouldn't rise from her death-like sleep for a few more hours at the least.

He'd stumbled down the creaky stairs in only his boxers, starting the coffee machine immediately, and, as it dripped slowly, he used the downtime to stare out the window above his kitchen sink. The weather was perfect-the rising sun shining over the horizon made his view picturesque-almost like a painting in a frame. He enjoyed the view, but he knew the girl upstairs sleeping in his bed would enjoy it more: clear sky days like today meant she had him all to herself. He shook his head to a wasted day, but smiled despite himself. Tyler grabs his phone from where he'd tossed it on the kitchen counter, texting out a quick message to the Wranglers group chat:

'Nothing but clear skies on the radar, so enjoy your day off. Maybe use it to take a decent shower? Maybe wash some clothes? I'm talking to you Boone, you stink.'

The message stirred a frenzy of comments and replies from each of the members of his eclectic group, and he read through them as he sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter. He'd just sent a reaction to a particularly witty remark from Lilly when he felt something grab him from around his waist. He'd been so entranced with his stream of messages that he hadn't heard the pitter-patter of his girlfriend's footsteps down the hardwood stairs, or the yawn that had announced her presence.

"Mornin', beautiful."

Y/N simply gives him an unimpressed, tired grumble in response. She'd clad in one of his old sweatshirts, so well-worn that the neck of it is fraying. Her hair is knotted and messy from her sleep, and her eyes are barely opened. She finds Tyler's greeting ridiculous, but even in her half-dazed state, he finds the sight of her infinitely more breathtaking than the stunning vision mother nature had given him this morning.

Y/N shuffles in closer to him, burying her ice-cold nose into the crook of his neck, and he lets out a sound of discomfort when it hits his bare skin.

"Damn, you're freezin'!"

"Yeah, well, my personal heater likes to get up at the asscrack of dawn, and it's the only time I get to see him these days, so deal with it."

Tyler laughs, bringing his arms around her waist to keep her close.

"Lucky for you, sleeping beauty, the skies are clear for the foreseeable future, so today I'm all yours."

He feels her grin against his skin, and she nuzzles in a little closer. Her groggy morning voice speaks, muffled by her face being pressed against him:

"Then, Ty, my lovely, handsome, smart, sweet man-of-my-dreams...why the hell are we up at six in the goddamn morning?"

Her faux flattery oozes with sarcasm. He shakes his head silently, running a hand through her hair.

"I'll have you know I'm wide awake."

"Well, I'm not, and I never get to sleep in with you anymore. I want to go back to bed, and I want you there to keep me warm, please?"

She'd lifted her face to rest her chin on his chest, her big puppy-like eyes pleading up at him.

"Plus," she starts, bringing her gaze back down to his chest and placing a chaste kiss just below his collarbone. "We haven't had morning sex in like...weeks. Who knows what kind of mood I'll wake up in?"

She gives him a sly smile, and he cuts a knowing eyebrow lift her way. He knows all of her tactics, not that she needs them anyway, he'd never deny her.

"Fine, I'm sold." He lifts her into his arms, her legs around his torso as he carries her up the stairs. She gives him a sweet chuckle, hiding her red-flushed face into the side of his neck, his hands resting across her ass, unabashedly inappropriate.

He tosses himself onto the bed, her frame atop his.

"Promise to wake me up around, 9 or so? I don't want to sleep too much, or else I'll miss out on my whole day with you."

His chest warms as his hand runs through her hair, the other placed precariously on her opposite hip, tracing circles with his thumb.

"I will, cross my heart. Now, sleep, you're gonna need it," his voice deepens almost on command. "Once you're awake, you're all mine, darlin'."

His words drip with sensual flirtation as he places a kiss on the crown of her head. Y/N gives him a grin, her eyes drooping closed.

Hours later, after much needed sleep and a rather intense bout of love making, the couple stood exactly where they had just hours before. Tyler stood against the counter, watching as the new pot of coffee brewed. Y/N stood between his arms, her still slighty-sleepy eyes peering out at the sunny day from the kitchen window. Tyler's hand runs through her hair, his other perched on the small of her back, almost dangerously low, but she pays it no mind, too consumed at the pure joy of having him all to herself for the entirety of the day. It seemed silly, but she was rarely afforded this luxury during the spring and summer months.

He pulls away to pour coffee into two mugs on the counter, dousing one in sugar and creamer, the other plain black, the way he liked his. Y/N pays little attention when she reaches for a mug, and he goes to stop her, but the liquid reaches her taste buds before he can reach out for the cup in her hands. Her face wrinkles in disgust as she reaches for the other mug and swallows a sip.

"Jesus, that's vile, Ty. You're drinking straight lighter fluid."

"At least I'm drinkin' coffee, sweetheart. Yours is ten percent coffee, ninety percent other sugary shit."

She rolls her eyes and downs another sip, exhaling at the caffeine now starting to course through her system. She leans her head on his bicep, not wanting to be far from his touch. The pair relishes in the quiet morning, only the sounds of the morning birds and the occasional passerby car filling the air. The moment is so delicately peaceful that Y/N feels her eyes drift back into a hazy state, only awoken by Tyler's voice cutting off her brush with relaxation.

"There's no food in his house, wanted to make eggs this mornin', there isn't any. We don't have any bread, milk's gone bad. Think we finished off the last of the coffee, and you're almost out of that fancy creamer you like."

Y/N's mind instantly thinks of the nearly empty toothpaste tube she'd squeezed out the night before, and the lack of her favorite snacks in his cabinet.

"You up for a grocery run this early?"

He shrugs, giving an unbothered look.

"Get it over with early, don't have to worry about it for the rest of the day."

She nods, leaning back against him.

"Smart," she pauses, letting out a sigh. "Guess I should probably get dressed if that's the case."

Tyler looks down at the girl in his arms, clad in one of his shirts and nothing else. Desire swarms in his gut, and he found the desperate words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Or we could just order them online, pick them up later? We could order dinner from that place on the boulevard you love, get it all done in one trip? I'll go in, you stay in the truck, no getting dressed necessary."

She drops her now empty mug into the sink, wrapping her arms around his neck, brushing her hand across the hair on the nape of his neck. She leans in, pulling him into a rather heated kiss, one that leaves them both panting. She can taste the traces of his own black coffee, and she smiled against his lips before pulling away.

"You get hotter and hotter every time you open your mouth this morning. You've almost got me convinced just to go back to bed with you and ignore all of my other responsibilities..."

He gives her a smirk, shrugging and lifting a brow as his calloused hand sneaks under her his shirt, caressing the bare skin dangerously close to her chest.

"What'll it take to convince you completely?"

She cocks her head to the side, as if she was thinking.

"Hm, remember that thing you did on our third date?"

She doesn't even get a response before his lips are back on hers, his hand tapping her thigh, silently signaling her to wrap her legs around his waist. His half-finished coffee was forgotten, only the sounds of their shared pleasure and Y/N's occasional giggle bouncing off the walls.

As night falls, that same relative silence falls over the house. The lights are all out, save for the lamp in the corner of the living room and one of Y/N's scented candles lit on top of the fireplace. A commercial for an insurance company runs quietly in the background, an ad break from the rerun of 'The Notebook' he'd put on for Y/N just an hour ago. Takeout boxes and two empty beer bottles litter the coffee table in front of them, and the sound of light rain falling fills the unclaimed space in the room.

They're both still fresh from the shower they'd shared. His hair is still damp, smelling of Y/N's shampoo, and her skin smelling of his cypress and cedarwood scented body wash. Y/N had stilled within a half hour of placing her head in his lap, his comforting touch in her hair making it physically impossible for her to fight sleep. His hands tugged lightly at her half-dry hair, but his eyes are focused on the window facing his back yard.

Tyler can't help it, he's naturally drawn to the changes in wind speed and precipitation. He notes nothing serious-average wind speeds, steady, even-falling rain, and no hail. He relaxes a bit, watching as Noah and Allie argue on screen. Soon, his own jade eyes felt heavy. He blinks them back open, trying to savor every moment he has with the girl who's managed to make him fall more and more in love with her, even when she does nothing at all.

He manages to stay awake for the rest of the movie, but as the credits roll across the screen, he finds sleep starting to win against him. Just as his hands stop the movement in her hair, a loud blare comes from the once quiet television, startling him awake, his leg jerking in reaction. In turn, it startles the sleeping girl in his lap, her head shifting as she rubs at her bleary eyes.

The three short tones followed by one long tone has him all but springing into action, sitting up straight on the couch, holding the shoulders of the girl still not nearly awake to understand what was happening.

"The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for the following counties..."

Tyler had tuned it out, he knew the rest. His eyes darted to the window again, and now, through the rain he could see exactly what he'd feared-a strike of lightning before a rumbling roar of thunder. He watches as the wind blows the flag in his yard, trees blowing furiously in the wind. It was mild now, but Tyler had seen the calm before the storm too many times to take chances. He quickly grabs both of their phones from the table and shoves them into his pockets. Y/N had already plopped back down onto the couch pillow, her eyes closed. He sighs and contemplates waking her up, but as the roaring of wind like a freight train fills his ears, he realizes he doesn't have the time. Instead, he scoops her into his arms-blanket and all-and simply bolts them out the door.

The second he hits the steps of the porch, he's never been more glad he'd moved so quickly. The wind is whipping around him fiercely, and the sound of hail knocking shingles off his roof sends his feet moving faster. The entrance to his storm shelter is in clear view, and he speaks down to the girl in his arms, speaking loudly over the noise of the inclement weather.

"I'm gonna take us to the storm shelter, okay? You're gonna get in first and I'm gonna be right behind you, baby, gotta make sure that door shuts, alright?"

Y/N nods in understanding, despite how her eyes are still laced with sleep. He stands her in front of him on solid ground, slinging open the heavy door with a grunt. He lightly shovels her down the steps, seeing that she's completely in before stepping in himself. It takes his full body force to get it shut, slamming the latch down tightly. He takes a moment to sit on the steps, hearing the pelting of hail and the loud winds before he springs into action again. He moves to switch on the small lights in the tiny room, now getting a good look at the girl sitting just across from him.

She looks incredibly small, curled into her favorite blanket from their couch, his own hoodie she'd claimed as her own peeking through. He worries that she's scared, and his heart pangs as he crosses over to her. Wordlessly, he pulls her into his lap, fishing his own phone out in hopes of firstly, pulling up live updates on the storm, and secondly, contacting the rest of the Wranglers, making sure his chosen family was safe. He gets the broadcast up first, a slew of messages from his friends ensuring him of their safety. He sends them back one confirming both his and Y/N's safety before setting it back down against the wall and the floor.

"Hey, you're okay, I promise," he reassured her, his arm slung around her and resting on her waist. She gives him a small smile, brushing a tuft of hair behind his ear. Chasing had been busy lately, and he hadn't stopped for a trim lately. She wasn't complaining, she liked running her hands through the longer locks.

"I know. I'm not scared, Ty," she gives a small laugh, the look behind her eyes reassuring him she was fine. He pulls her closer to him, placing a kiss against the crown of her head.

"Brave girl."

She shakes her head in disagreement.

"I'm not brave, I'd be scared shitless if you weren't here. But you are, so I know I'm safe. You'd never let anything happen to me, mother nature be damned."

He gives a loud laugh that bounces off the walls of their shelter, making Y/N break out into her own smile. She turns her attention to the map on Tyler's phone.

"So what're they saying?"

He pulls his phone closer, a map of colors and city names she recognizes in front of her. His finger points to their town name.

"There's us," He pauses, moving his finger to a patch of dark pink. Y/N looks at the key on the side, noting that the color indicated an 'extreme' threat. "And that's the path of the tornado happenin' above us right now, most likely."

"So," she pauses, looking up at him. "In your professional Tornado Wrangler opinion, how fucked are we?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Survival wise? I know we'll be fine, we're perfectly safe. Damage wise? Well, my roof needed replacin' anyways."

"What about the others? Have you heard from them? I imagine Boone is losing it."

Tyler brushes hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"They're all in a safe spot, just heard from them all. Don't worry that pretty head of yours about a thing, let me take care of it."

Another roll of loud winds roar overhead, and both Y/N and Tyler dart their eyes to the ceiling. She tucks her head into Tyler's neck, and his arms pull her tighter into his embrace.

"Okay," she starts, her voice small. "So maybe I'm a little scared...I don't see how you're always out there in all this, it's terrifying, Ty."

He wants to reply back, tell her about the rush of a storm, or the feeling of being right there next to it in the moment, but the storms he chased weren’t like the one happening literal feet above their heads. He remains quiet, his hand moving back to her hair, stroking the strands in a gentle motion, providing comfort for her. She’s quiet for a moment, listening to the howling winds and the shaking of the thunderous movements.

“T-Tyler?” There’s a tremble in her voice, and he notes how she’s starting to shake in his hold. “Can you tell me a story? Talk, just keep me distracted, please. Having a full blown panic attack in this box doesn’t sound fun.”

He continues the comforting touch to her head, pulling her in closer to the side of his neck, his opposite arm around her waist.

“Hey, no, no, none of that, you’re gonna be fine. We’re okay, I got you. A story? Um…”

He thinks for a second, until the perfect idea comes to his mind.

“Alright, got one, gonna tell you your favorite story. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

His voice takes on a humorous tone, recounting the plot of ‘A New Hope’ from memory. The rumble of his timbre in her ear-paired with him intentionally making up his own scenarios when he forgot plot points-worked effectively in blocking out the deafening noises above. After a handful of minutes, the noise stilled, and Y/N sat with shaking hands as Tyler popped back open the door. He looked around for a moment, making sure the sky was clear before helping her back on solid ground.

Shingles had fallen from his roof, and branches from trees had been strewn across his yard. Just across the clearing, in an empty field, a massive tree had fallen. Tyler grasped her hand tightly as they walked back inside, their power out, but the home unharmed. Once he determined they were completely safe, he wordlessly led them back to his bedroom, tucking Y/N safely under his chin, close to his heart. He didn’t sleep, his brain wide awake in fear that another storm would come and he’d be unprepared. Instead he watched her sleep, watching as her breaths moved in and out, content in knowing she felt safe in his arms.

Tomorrow, they’d venture into town with Boone and Lilly in the back of his truck, Dexter and Dani behind them, all looking out at the disaster that riddled their small community. They’d spend their day passing out food and water, looking for missing pets in rubble, and helping scour collapsed houses for salvageable items for families to hold onto. He’d look on as Y/N helped comfort elderly citizens of their community and laughed with children who had lost their everything, including their innocence. She’d be silent on the way home, and collapse into his arms once they made it through the front door. Her eyes would fill with tears of guilt that she couldn’t do more for every person she'd seen and talked to. He’d hold her just like he was now, hands in her hair and sweet nothings in her ears.

But tonight, he holds her in his arms tightly, thanking mother nature for sparing not only them, but his home too. After his thanks, he issues her a warning: come hell or high water, he’d stop at nothing to protect the girl in his arms-mother nature be damned.

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@fanboysfangirl

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens twisters #twisters #glen powell x you #glen powell x reader #request #tyler owens x you #tyler twisters

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frenchkisstheabyss · 6 months ago

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♡ ＧｉｒｌＵｎｄｅｒＹｏｕ ♡

♡ Pairings: gynecologist!seonghwa! x chubby!afab!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Scheduling your yearly check up with your OBGYN can be nerve-wracking. Especially when your doctor's Park Seonghwa. Finally getting up the courage to visit, you do all you can to conceal the not so appropriate feelings you have towards him. Not only is it inappropriate but he surely doesn't feel the same. Right?

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader has a vagina and identifies as a woman. we're at the OBGYN so this is ultra vagina city. pervy Dr. Park Seonghwa, you too are a perv tbh it's mutual, shy/touch starved reader, body worship, nipple/breast play, fingering (gentle & rough), unprotected sex, cum marking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby, etc), a lil rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), nonsexual use of the word slut (not in a bad way), it gets bitey for a second, examination kink, soft dom Hwa vibes.

♡ A/N: Listen, I can explain. It's all on @anyamaris for encouraging me to begin with. Blame her!

Important note: If you have a vagina go get it checked out regularly. Your doctor will certainly not be Seonghwa dicking you down BUT it's an important and sometimes life saving appointment sooo make it or I'll fight you. K, love you, bye ♡

♡ ♡ ♡ “I wanna be that guy. I'll wreck you right up, guy. I'll lie down face up, guy. The girl under you, guy.” ~ Lady Gaga ~ ♡♡ ♡

“Date of your last period? Any abnormal cramping or bleeding? Any chance of pregnancy?” the nurse fires off questions, tapping your answers into the laptop balanced on her hip.

Sitting on the exam table, your feet dangling off the edge, you try not to get whiplash from how quickly she whirls around the room loading a tray with supplies for your exam. The office is unexpectedly short staffed today, forcing her to play the role of nurse and human octopus. You understand how overwhelmed she must be but pray that she stops soon. Your anxiety was already bad enough coming in here. This nervous energy is not helping.

“Last question, honey” she says, turning to face you, “Oh, have you been sexually active recently?” She cracks a playful smile, clearly expecting your answer to be something that it isn’t.

“No” you mumble, avoiding eye contact. Look at how shiny those tile floors are. Has this exam table always been this cushy? Such a marvelous generic art print that is hanging by the door.

The nurse’s eyes widen, a hand clutched to her chest in shock, “You went to Coachella and didn’t get laid?”

“Nurse Kim! Can we not today?” you pout, in no mood to have this conversation right now.

Being a longtime patient here has a lot of perks. Getting closer to the nurses especially has been great for you. I mean, who doesn’t like getting the appointment slot they want every single time? But the drawback is that they like you enough to pick on you. Maybe it’s their way of breaking you out of your shell, getting you to be less shy, but you wish they wouldn’t.

Nurse Kim shrugs, miming the zipping of her lips, “Okay, okay. I’ll mind my business.” Placing the supplies on the table, she grabs you a fresh hospital blue medical gown. “You know the deal, right? No shoes, no bra…”

You nod along with her instructions, hopping down to kick your sneakers off. Finally she finishes and heads for the door to give you some privacy. “The doctor will be in shortly. Let me know if you need anything” she says, stopping halfway out the door. “You really didn’t bang anyone at Coachella. Wow. Girl, you’ve got to learn to live a little. You’re too hot not to slut it up!”

“Thank you so much for everything. Goodbye. Bye!” you laugh, inching the door shut until she’s on the other side of it.

Alone at last, you’re able to get out of your clothes and into your gown in peace and quiet. Well, “peace” might not be the word to describe what you’re feeling but at least you’re able to panic in silence.

You really shouldn’t be as nervous as you are. You’ve been coming to this office for years. Everyone’s kind and welcoming. They always make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of. There’s definitely no part of you they haven’t seen so you have nothing to be ashamed of. Still there’s one thing—one major, heart pounding, pulse quickening thing—that makes you too nervous to function every time you’re here.

Your phone vibrates in your purse and you contemplate not answering but dig it out anyway figuring a little distraction can’t hurt. Unlocking your phone, you spot a text from your best friend.

It reads: “Did you see Hot Doctor yet?”

You giggle to yourself, typing back to her. “His name’s Seonghwa and not yet. Still waiting.”

“On a first name basis are we? Seonghwa. That’s even hot to say.”

“Dr. Park, I mean. His name is hot to say though. He’s hot. I fucking hate it.”

“Just give him your number already!”

“Sure. While he’s swabbing me I’ll be all ‘Hey, Dr. Park. Wanna go to lunch?’”

Your best friend responds with a meme of Megan thee Stallion sticking her tongue out. “Plot twist. The lunch is between my legs, daddy!”

You’re choking back laughter and tears, scrolling your phone for the perfect meme to send back when there’s a knock at the door. You nearly jump out of your skin, shoving your phone back into your purse.

“Come in!” you shout, returning to the exam table just in time for the doctor to step in.

Everything moves in slow motion when Park Seonghwa enters the room. Ahem, Dr. Park. He is, as you and your best friend have come to call him, a hot doctor. The hottest doctor you’ve ever seen. His dark wavy hair’s pulled back into a high ponytail, loose pieces hanging to frame a face too gorgeous to look directly at. His bone structure’s immaculate, his lips soft and pink, and his voice…

“Long time no see. How’s my favorite patient been?” he says, flashing that killer smile of his. That voice. That smile. It makes you want to faint.

You laugh it off, hoping not to come off as flustered as you are. “Dr. Park, I’m not your favorite patient.”

Seonghwa takes a seat on a nearby rolling stool and spins his way over to you, making a cute woo noise when he does. It gets a giggle out of you which is exactly what he wanted.

“Who says you aren’t?” he asks, sliding in closer, his hands disappearing behind your legs.

It’s hard to breathe when he’s this close, staring up at you from between your legs. The smell of his cologne dances around you, a sweet woodsy scent that you imagine might smell even better on top of you. Just the thought awakens a familiar tingle between your thighs that threatens to make you wet the crinkly paper blanket beneath you if you carry on like this. You know that you shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a doctor. He’s just doing his job. And here you are perving over him.

“Dr. Park, anything else you need me to grab?” Nurse Kim asks, popping back into the room. Her appearance snaps you out of your trance and you force a smile to keep things normal. If you weren’t brain rotted and horny you'd swear Seonghwa had been reading your reaction that whole time. That he saw the effect he had on you and seemed somehow amused by it. But that’s factually insane. Get it together.

The foot rests behind your legs, the reason Seonghwa reached back there to begin with, unfold with a creak. “No, I think we’re good” he answers before turning back to you, “Lay back for me and put your feet up. We’ll be done in no time, okay?” You follow his instructions, laying back on the table, readjusting yourself however he asks you to.

Closing your eyes, you rest your hands on your belly, impatiently waiting for this to be over. Though Seonghwa’s interest in what’s between your legs is purely medical, the fact remains that you hope he doesn’t find it ugly. You shaved for this, used this nice pH balancing rose water soap on it. You did everything but put makeup on it and throw it in a dress. You feel kinda silly now thinking back on it but your brain isn’t exactly logical when it comes to him.

A few cranks of a speculum and cotton swabs later you’re done with the first part of your exam. “Good girl, you did well. The hardest part’s over” he praises, swapping his latex gloves out for a new pair. Your heart skips a beat at being called a “good girl”. He didn’t mean it that way but your body can’t differentiate between reality and how devastatingly sexy that was. Seonghwa turns to address the nurse and you quickly press your thighs together for some relief.

“I’ll send these off and go set up for the next patient” Nurse Kim says, grabbing your samples. She turns to smile at you one last time before disappearing from the room. “Remember what I said” she whispers, “Slut. It. Up.” Unfortunately, of all the things she’s skilled at whispering isn’t one of them and Seonghwa hears her.

Rising from his seat, he walks alongside you, stopping when he reaches your chest. “Just lower your gown for me for a second.”

You do as you’re told, carefully rolling your gown below your breasts. “So, slut it up, huh? What’s that about?” he teases, cold hands cupping one of your soft breasts. You inhale sharply at the contact, a thankfully normal reaction to cold hands touching you. Though for you it’s more that they’re his hands than anything.

“She thinks I need to get laid” you blurt out, caught off guard by your own bluntness.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, his fingertips pushing gently into your breast. “I’ll have to talk to her about that. She shouldn’t be judging people for their life choices.”

“I mean, it’s not really a life choice. I’m just not…I’m not a girl who…” you ramble, shutting yourself up immediately after realizing what you’re saying. Seonghwa pauses, glancing over at you, two fingers circling the perimeter of your nipple. It stiffens at the closeness, your touch starved body grateful for the attention.

“Not a girl who what?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely interested.

It doesn’t seem that he’ll keep going if you don’t answer so you give in. “I don’t know, guys just don’t hit on me I guess. I’m not that girl.”

Seonghwa continues his examination, flattening his fingers at the base of your breast and dragging them up to your nipple. They bounce back each time, looking rounder and fuller as if he’s worked some magic on them.

“I don’t think that’s necessarily it” he sighs, moving on to the other breast, “A lot of men are intimidated by beautiful women.”

Beautiful women? Did Park Seonghwa just call you a “beautiful woman”?

“B-beautiful?” you stutter, at a loss for what to do with yourself, “That’s really nice of you but I’m not…”

Seonghwa can’t help but smile at how adorable you are when he compliments you. You’re as good at concealing it as Nurse Kim is at whispering. Seonghwa knows that you’re attracted to him. To be fair, a lot of his patients are, but you are truthfully his favorite. Always so beautiful, always so easy to tease, and such a pretty pretty pussy that’s always wet for him.

“But you are” he insists, both hands cradling your breast, thumbs running up the side, “You must have a mirror at home, no?”

“Dr. Park, are you trying to make me blush?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows.

The pads of his thumbs graze your hardening nipple and your back arches, a whimper lighter than air escaping your lips. You catch Seonghwa quickly nibbling at his bottom lip, his eyes glimmering at the shock and pleasure painting your face. You caught him. You saw it this time. Really saw it.

Seonghwa knows he should stop here, end the examination, and send you on your way before he does something stupid. It’s just…that little moan you let out? It’s a melody he’s been fantasizing about since the first time you laid across his table. He has to hear it again.

“I don’t know. Is it, aaah…” he breathes in, one of his thumbs circling the tip of your bud, “Is it working?”

Slipping his left hand back across your chest, he palms your other breast, pinching your sensitive nipple each time he rolls his wrist.

“Yes, it…oh god…it’s working” you mewl, your mouth falling open, moans pouring out at the perfect volume for only the two of you to hear.

Your feet tremble in the foot rests, your legs still spread to leave your dripping, vulnerable pussy exposed to the cool air of the room. Hypnotized by the sight of Seonghwa playing with your tits, high off the electric current it sends through your body, it’s easy to forget that you actually came here for a reason.

“I should probably finish your exam” Seonghwa whispers, doing his best to ignore the hard cock pressing against his slacks. Your body may be tempting but it is technically his job to make sure you’re healthy too. His hands gradually cease their movement, gliding down to do away with the gown that was hardly hiding to your naked body.

“Fuck, look at you” he gasps, massaging your squishy belly, tracing your love handles, and rounding the curve of your hip to reach your thigh. His fingers dig into your thigh, savoring their softness all the way up to your core.

His gaze travels back up your body to those starry doe eyes that hang on his every move, “Think I’ll need the lube or are you already wet enough for me, baby?”

Seonghwa rubs two fingers along your slit, collecting your arousal on the tip of his glove. He brings them to his mouth, extending his long tongue to lick your juices up.

“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you” he hums, taking his time to enjoy the taste of you on his tongue.

“Dr. Park, please…” you beg, thighs pressing together again, the need for his touch unbearable.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart” he apologizes, his fingers immediately returning to their place between your legs. “You want me to finger that perfect little cunt?”

“Yes, please, I want…need it so bad.”

Seonghwa brings his lips to yours, your eyes gleaming with lust as they meet, “You need it, baby? That bad, huh?”

Two gloved fingers push into you, your pussy welcoming them with the tightest of hugs. “Fuck, yes, so good” you whine into his mouth as you begin to ride his fingers. Seonghwa dips his tongue between your lips, your mouths passionately crashing together. You grab the collar of his white coat, drawing him closer to deepen the kiss as his fingers work your core. Inside of you his fingers stimulate spots men who aren’t in his line of work wouldn’t even know existed. Some you didn’t even know could bring you such pleasure until now.

Your eyes squeeze shut, elbows giving out from under you, “Harder, Dr. Park, wanna feel you so deep.”

Seonghwa catches your head before it can hit the cushion beneath you, lowering it down carefully as he draws another kiss from your lips. “Only if you promise to be a good girl and be quiet for me.”

“I p-promise. Quiet. I’ll be…” you moan, throwing your hands over your mouth when he suddenly picks up the pace. Shifting between your legs, he tucks a hand behind your right knee and pushes it to your chest. Your palms are sweating, fingers locked together to keep you from screaming. Seonghwa’s fingers are much deeper than you thought they could go and his pace is too unforgiving for you to brace yourself for any of it.

“Ssh, ssh, you’re getting too loud, baby” he teases, coming in to kiss your inner thigh. Your juices stream down his fingers, soaking the thin paper beneath you. Hating to waste something so delicious, he begins licking around his own fingers. Between your lips. Around your clit. Anywhere his fingers send it splashing, he licks it clean.

Your hands begin to slip from your mouth, your poor wrecked little body going too limp to keep it together. Thinking quickly, you bite down on your hand just enough to keep the noise in but you aren’t sure how long it’ll last. You’re dangerously close to coming. You can feel it and Seonghwa does too. Your hole’s so greedy, sucking him in and refusing to let go. It’s just begging to come but he won’t let it. Not like this at least.

Reaching down, he blindly fumbles around with his pants until he feels his cock spring free. He groans into your pussy as he closes his hand around his cock, rocking in and out of his own grip.

“Dr. Park, I’m gonna, mmph, aaah, fuck…gonna come” you squeal, hips stuttering against his face.

“Fuck, yes, come for me, sweetheart” he grins, rimming the head of his cock with his thumb, “You wanna come on my cock?”

Seonghwa’s proposal has you biting down on your hand hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh god, yes, fuck me please. Fuck me, Seonghwa.”

Popping his fingers free, he grabs you by your legs and drags you down until your ass hangs off of the table. “Seonghwa!” you cry out, eyes rolling back as he thrusts into you. That stretch. That one exhilarating, earth shattering stretch, is all it takes to ruin you.

“Mmm, that’s it, come baby. Give it to me” he moans, hips snapping into your fluttering core. You expect, like any other orgasm, for your high to fade after the initial peak but it doesn’t. You’re still there. And your body’s giving out. You brain’s going hazy. You can’t take it but you want to even if it makes you go crazy.

Seonghwa’s eyes never leave your pretty face, never stop eating up how hot you are when you’re at his mercy. The sensation of his own high crashing down on him has him pushing your thighs together, the thickness of them making your pussy feel twice as tight around him.

“So fucking tight, shit, you’re gonna make me come. Where do you want it?”

“I, ooh, I want it…want.” The words are there but you struggle so very hard to find them. You dig deep, collecting the strength needed to run your hand down your belly and spread your folds for him. Your voice is so cute and broken when you say, “On me.”

Seonghwa folds immediately, pulling out to coat your clit in the thick warmth spilling from his cock. Stopping to catch his breath, he leaves it there resting against your clit. Both of you twitching together, his seed dripping down your pussy so that no part of you isn’t marked by him.

“Don’t clean it off” he instructs, kissing down your leg as he places your feet back in the foot rests, “Leave it so you’ll think of me when you’re driving home.”

Easing your fingers from between your folds, you pop them into your mouth, sucking them like a lollipop. “Anything else, Dr. Park?”

Seonghwa zips his pants up, searching his brain for any other pressing information. “That depends, are you free tonight?”

“Hmm, let me think” you muse, staring off into space for dramatic effect. “I can be. That depends on what you had in mind.”

“Well, I was thinking I could pick you up for dinner and then…” He blows you a kiss that communicates his plan wonderfully, “Dinner.”

You giggle, your sweet little crush on him more severe than ever, “Sure, I’d like that but, hold on, you don’t know where I live.”

Seonghwa takes his gloves off, tossing them in the trash can by the door. “You’re my patient, remember? I literally have all of your personal information.”

“Isn’t that, like, a violation of patient privacy or something?”

Seonghwa laughs off your comment, walking over to sneak in a goodbye kiss. “I’ve already violated your privacy once today, sweetheart. Can't hurt to do it again”

#seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x female reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #park seonghwa x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader

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ramp-it-up · 2 months ago

Text

Anatomy of a Kiss

Summary: You and Logan agree on one thing: you both hate each other. So what happens when you kiss him?

Word count: 4.2 K

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. S MUT Not Beta’d. ONE DEADPOOL X WOLVERINE SPOILER AHEAD! Read at your own risk. S MUT! Enemies to lovers; snark to fluff, idiots in love; use of the words stupid, dumb, insipid as insults. Reader's father is either a mobster or a mutant villain, or both; (Reader may or may not be a mutant herself), a couple dark themes and mention of parent death; Reader has Daddy issues; Reader is a thicc girlie; Princess and Old Man as nicknames; there are two slaps; a tipsy kiss; povs switch thorughout the fic. pining; insinuations of masturbation, oral (f receiving), spitting, praise and degredation kink, size kink, creampie, cum play, explicit sex acts, raw p in v (wrap it up) voice kink, this Logan is Dom Logan.

A/N: This was in my soul for a couple of weeks, but I don't feel it's all that great. Here goes. Let me know if you like it by reblogging, liking and commenting please. Thank you. ☺️

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The biggest mistake that Logan Howlett ever made in his life was kissing you back.

Because now he was never going to get you out of his system.

—--

You were celebrating.

Being being voted best small business owner and philanthropist in the city was a big fucking deal. You decided to let your hair down and let go of your famous self-control and discipline for one night.

And now you were tooted on most of a bottle of Moet and Chandon as you walked back to your high rise apartment from the civic center.

It was a perfect night and you stopped and smiled at the moon, feeling sublime.

Until you heard his voice.

“Keep moving before I throw you over my shoulder and get you inside myself, Princess.”

You rolled your eyes at your body guard, the only thing your father offered you that you didn’t reject.

Because you weren’t stupid.

Other than sharing his dna, you were not like your father at all, and you divested yourself of everything that had to do with him.

“What about the penthouse? You kept that.”

Your body felt engulfed as if by flames. You were angry, both at the fact that you’d apparently said all that out loud, and at Logan’s audacity.

“Fuck you, Howlett. The apartment is my mother’s. But she died because of my dad and that’s why he wants to “protect” me.”

You wobbled as you did your air quotes, and you could sense Logan ready to spring to catch you if you fell. You recovered quickly, however, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“But he can't seem to do the one thing that will protect me. Get out of the life. He’s an old man, for heaven’s sake!”

Logan chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not so old.”

You were in full blown argument mode.

“He’s over 70.”

“Like I said, he’s not so old. And you don’t know so much, little girl. Life is not that simple.”

“I am 32 years old, Mr. Howlett. I am not one of those little girls that fawn all over you. I am a woman.”

You straightened up and you knew that your thick body in the black cocktail dress was banging.

Logan’s eyes reflected your body, although he was staring back into yours. He’d taken it all in earlier.

“You are a teeny, tiny little Princess.”

He was fucking infuriating as he smiled down at you like that. The alcohol made you step to him.

“Someone needs to kiss that insipid smirk off your face, Howlett.”

That stupid eyebrow shot up, and your belly flipped.

Slap. You meant slap, but Logan was quicker than your champagne brain.

“I dare you, Princess.”

—-----

After what happened happened, you hightailed it back to your building, the electricity zapping around the elevator as you stared each other down. As soon as the doors opened, you moved as quickly as your tipsy legs would take through your foyer and living room and down the hallway to your bedroom door.

Logan followed you.

“Princess–”

The door slammed in his face, and he stood there for a good five minutes, restraining himself from knocking it down, before he relented and made his way back to his own room.

He’d confront you tomorrow (later today), when you were sober.

—-

On the other side of the door, you were thinking of packing your bags and moving to South America. You needed a continent between you and Logan. How in the world had you allowed yourself to give in to a drunken urge that manifested the late night thoughts that you’d had for months?

You were slipping. Bad.

You absolutely could not face him the next day. You leaned against the door, relieved when you heard him leave, and touched your lips. They still felt as if they were swollen from the kiss.

You were sobering up now, remembering it. But just a few minutes ago that dare was all you needed to immediately lock your lips onto his.

You also remembered the way he’d pulled away in shock and stared at your mouth for a beat before he grabbed your hair, pulled you close again, and kissed you so good that your toes curled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK! Fuck my life!”

You were losing control. And that was not good. Not good at all.

—

Logan couldn’t get you out of his mind.

And that pissed him off.

He lay in bed, and thought about how, (if he could die) under penalty of death he would never admit just how often he thought about you.

He’d been glad for the room at your place that came with the job; bunking with Wade and Althea was getting real old, real fast.

But suddenly this arrangement felt too close for comfort.

You didn’t need to know about the fact that the movie playing behind his closed eyelids during his little shower workouts every night was your sexy smile, or the way your ass filled out your jeans. Especially those black ones.

And when he thought about you wearing those jeans with that wrap around shirt that showcased your tits just right. Well, fuck. He’d have gallons of cum for the shower drain.

Nah, you knowing that would only stroke your ego. Somehow, his mind drifted to the other things of yours that needed stroking.

“Oh, Fuck all!”

He sat up and sat on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cigar, reason number 634 why you hated him.

But if you hated him so much, then why did you kiss him tonight?

—---

Why did you do it? You didn’t even like Logan. In fact you hated him.

Right?

You loathed the way he called you Princess, an obvious reminder that you were a trust fund baby, although you were far from a child, and to spite the fact that you were trying to make your own way.

You hated him from the top of his ridiculous thick hair, to the soles of his huge shit-kicker boot clad feet. You hated how tall and how ripped he was, the way his arm veins threaded atop the muscles there and led the way to his thick, calloused fingers that felt so nice against your skin.

You hated the chest hair that poked out from the top of the tacky tank tops and flannel shirts he always wore underneath the ever present leather jacket, and the way his blue jeans showcased the muscles in his thighs.

And you absolutely NEVER accidentally gazed at his crotch and ascertained that he was packing.

That would be asinine.

And his stupid face. That was the kicker. Logan’s face would be handsome if he didn’t wear that ridiculous smirk all the time on that mouth that might look nice if he was normal.

The mouth that felt nice against yours.

That might feel nice against your…

You groaned around your toothbrush and rolled your eyes at yourself, fully sober now after a quick cold shower. But somehow your body was still warm and buzzing.

What the fuck had you done?

—

Logan didn’t even like you.

You were bossy, irritating, loud.

Fuck, you were loud, always chattering away to your customers, always smiling and making them feel at home.

He absolutely loathed the way you were trying to make your own living, despite the fact that your father was loaded. Running a food truck with the best tacos in town drew hundreds of people every day and giving away a portion of your food to the unhoused every night was what irritated Logan the most.

More people to watch.

He was sure you did it to surround him with more people to hate. He just knew that you liked pushing his buttons.

You just reveled in being the anti-Logan.

The more he glared, the more you glowed.

On fucking purpose.

The kicker was you cranking up the karaoke machine on Thursday nights and belting it out to Journey or REO Speedwagon. It was so annoying.

Especially the way you closed your eyes and swayed to the music during the bridge. The happy look on your face wasn’t beautiful at all, it was simple, and he didn’t memorize every curve of your face because it was a dumb one.

He couldn’t get away, because he had three months left on the security contract your father signed with him.

It was unfortunate, because you just wouldn’t shut up.

Except when his tongue was in your mouth.

No.

Even then, you made noises.

Those delicious little moans that vibrated down his spine and made his dick harder with every second. Moans that made him see visions of your mouth wrapped around his cock. Moans that gave him a waking dream of you giving him head, and…

Fuck, now Logan had a raging hard on and could not sleep for the life of him.

He really did not like you.

—--

Kissing Logan had you in a tailspin.

You punched your pillow as you tossed and turned in bed and conjured positive thoughts.

You could forget this.

Pretend it never happened.

Convince yourself that he didn’t taste like heaven and hell and the best fucking thing in a long time.

You could forget.

It was fine.

Everything was just fucking fine.

All you had to do was completely forget the way he made you feel when he slid his tongue into your mouth. It was easy.

Except you were wet as fuck.

“Listen, bitch. You are not doing me any favors right now,” you mumbled to your cunt.

She didn't care.

Your pussy just continued to clench on air as if to say, “He’s right down the hall. Let’s just go finish what we started.”

You groaned and tried to smother yourself with your pillow.

It didn’t work.

—-

Logan just kept thinking of the way you stared at him between kisses. Lips parted on a gasp, plump and soft, right before he'd slipped his hand on your neck and kissed you again. Now your taste haunted him.

Logan huffed and put his head in his hands. Flashes of the kiss played like a movie in his head. Finally, he stood up and went to his door, ready to settle this once and for all.

When he opened it, there you were, in just a black camisole and panties, and god, did he want you.

But there was your mouth again.

“I fucking hate you.”

The problem with that was, he could smell you. You might be saying that you hated him, but your body was calling him right now. And Logan’s knees were weak at the power of his lust.

When you looked him in the eye, you licked your lips, your eyes dilated, your nipples tightened into stiff peaks, and your pussy weeping for him, Logan knew it was the end of the line of his self-restraint.

You smelled delicious, like your mandarin orange body wash and your wet-for-him cunt.

He stepped toward you and you slapped his face, leaving him with a grin on his face.

Then you slapped him again.

“You got it out of your system now? That anger?”

He cocked that damned eyebrow at you and moved even closer.

“Or is it frustration?”

——

You were in trouble now.

Not because you were scared Logan was going to hurt you.

Just the opposite.

Logan dipped his head to smell at your pulse point, body so close, but never touching you. Your arms went to grab his impossible shoulders and that's when his huge paws grabbed your hips, dragging you further into his room as he backed toward his bed.

He was full on nuzzling your neck now, and your eyes were rolling as the tension between you two was finally ebbing.

The words came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking angry that you get me so frustrated, you ass..”

You were turning your head toward his, wanting his lips again, on his lap now, crotch sat on his unbuttoned jeans, and refusing to move to ignite the fire.

Logan grunted at you.

“I see that. You’re trying to stare me down even though you are leaking all over me.”

Your body clenched and got wetter at the naming of that fact. You were terrified of what might happen next.

Yet you wanted it so badly.

——

Logan couldn’t wait any more.

He removed one hand from gripping the flesh at your hips that he’d fantasized about for months, to trailing up your cheek to your hair to take off your scarf.

His fingers were in your hair again and your eyelids stuttered as you mouth dropped open for air.

That made him so fucking hard. And it made him want to kiss you again.

He had to know.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

——

His sexy whisper would do you in.

For good.

“I don’t know.”

Logan was staring at you like you were the treasure chest at the end of a quest as you tried to remain as still as possible on his lap. It was so hard.

Logan was so hard beneath you.

“Oh? Let’s run it back to earlier when you weren’t letting that big brain of yours get in the way.”

Frustration surged within you and your mouth got reckless.

“Stop yapping and just do it already.”

——-

“There’s my girl,” Logan growled at you as his dick responded to the challenge and his eyes flashed at your tone.

“Always busting my balls, aren’t you? Need to give that smart mouth something else to do.”

Before you could reply, Logan’s lips covered yours so perfectly that it was like magnetic puzzle pieces. You fit together and locked.

Logan’s tongue traced your lower lip and he drew it into his mouth, nibbling, gently at first and then nipping more harshly, causing a gasp and enabling entry. His tongue swiped at yours as he dominated you.

You were not going to win this round.

——

You could only whimper and grab his shoulders tighter as he kissed you. For all that was holy, why did his kisses have to be so damn good?

One of your hands ventured into the thick hair you’d dreamt of feeling between your fingertips and pulled as your desire peaked. Then your palms went to his face as he pulled away and you squirmed as you realized what was about to happen.

“What are you here for, Princess?”

That question again.

That voice. It rumbled straight to your core and Logan wasn’t letting you off the hook.

Logan wasn’t letting you up off of him.

The hardness of his metal button and zipper, but mostly him (oh god he was huge) chaffed your thighs as he sealed his lips over yours again and his hand went from your scalp down your neck and back to your hip again, holding you down to feel him.

You finally moved, smearing your wetness all over your panties and his jeans and Jesus, it felt so good.

——

Logan’s eyes took in all of you in your scanty clothing, following your every movement and when his eyes moved down to your damp panties he swallowed audibly. He clenched his jaw with the strain of holding back.

Logan couldn’t deny that he wanted you. His 200 year old heart felt brand new.

“Mmmmph. Here for this feeling Logan.”

Your voice was the greatest symphony. His stomach clenched when you looked him in the eye.

“I’m here for you.”

You leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek with your nose, then whispered a demand in his ear.

“Touch me, Logan.”

Without thinking, but instinctively careful of you, Logan’s claws extended, shredding the sides of your panties and rendering them in pieces.

“Fuck!”

You gasped as he stood up with you in his retracted grip and threw you on the bed, the scraps of your underwear abandoning you.

He couldn’t stand it anymore, he was so weak for you. He was on his knees at the foot of the bed as he ran his rough hands up and down your legs.

——-

“I’m touching you, now what?”

He spoke to you, but he was looking at the juncture of your thighs, at the well-manicured hair there, all casual, as if he weren’t teasing the hell out of you.

You had something for him.

“If you don’t know what to do, then I’ll show you.”

You reached up and took off your camisole and Logan’s eyes raked upwards and widened at the sight of what you were holding, which was your breast in one hand, as you pinched and rolled your own nipple. Your other hand trailed down your body as your legs fell open to give yourself access to your clit, which you had the nerve to play with in front of Logan’s face.

——

Now he was the one who was angry.

Logan snarled, then batted your hand away.

“Careful Princess. Don’t poke the Wolverine.”

His hands tightened on your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed where he was.

———

Logan leaned down, his hot breath ghosting your pussy as he looked up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes.

You couldn’t let the moment get too tender.

“What if the Wolverine wants to poke–”

Logan’s hand covered your mouth, cutting you off at just the moment he licked a long, hot, wet stripe up the center of you and then pursed his lips around your clit to suck at you ruthlessly.

Your smart ass remark was forgotten as a moan bubbled up into your throat. Logan took his hand away once it was clear that you couldn’t talk anymore, or at least that your capacity for sass had diminished.

You were leaning up on your elbow and watching him feast on you, convulsing with each swipe of his broad tongue and each pull on your clit.

As mesmerized as you were at his skill, you managed to brush his thick dark hair away from his eyes so that he could see properly. You didn’t want anything getting in the way of the best head you’d ever received.

——-

Logan’s hands were now palming the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten; you were practically sitting on his fingers. For him, you tasted even better than you smelled. He couldn’t believe it.

He looked up at you incredulously, watching your breasts moving with each heave of your lungs trying to capture air, and your mouth open to capture it. He met your eyes and frowned at you as he reached down and stroked his pulsing cock.

“What’s wrong?”

“The fucking Cuties you eat all day long. They got you tasting like a fucking orange. ‘S fucking impossible.”

He yanked you closer and buried his face between your legs. You made those cute little noises with every swipe of his tongue, and he licked and sucked until you convulsed in his hands, screaming.

You were still trying to catch your breath before he was on you, licking and suckling your hard and soft breasts.

“Damn,” you murmured as Logan swiped his thick, bulbous head into your entrance and meeting resistance, “You’re so fucking huge Logan.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that phrase, but coming from you it hit different. His chest puffed with pride.

Logn smiled into your neck, inhaling your scent and growling against your skin.

“Don’t be scared, Princess. I’ll make it feel good for you. I should be more worried than you are. I’m gonna split you open, but you are about to shatter me into a thousand pieces.”

He didn't mean to tell you the absolute truth. But he had.

Logan knew there was no coming back from this for him.

——

You shuddered at the words which were breathed over your skin.

Logan trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of your neck the looked you in the eye. It was too much.

You lowered your gaze and he chuckled, making you sigh when he tugged on your lobe with his teeth and started pushing inside you. It was slow, but sensual and somehow still desperate.

With each increment of himself that he gave you, you felt destroyed, yet you wanted more. You clutched at his chest as you widened your legs for him, as if that would help.

“No one else has ever made me feel this way. Hurts so good, Logan. More. Please?”

The question was, were you just talking about his penis?

——-

You begging him made Logan want to cry as he slipped further inside of you. When he bottomed out, you both shuddered, you at the sensation of such fullness, and him at the way you were so snugly and warmly wrapped around him.

“Fuck! Princess. Should have known you would be hot and tight. But I wasn’t ready.”

Logan wasn’t ready for you at all.

—-

His pupils were completely blown and the look on Logan’s face made you clench down even tighter as he stroked deeper into you.

“Y-yess, feels so good.”

You felt like liquid in his arms. Your hands moved over his shoulders as you hitched your thigh around his hips. He ran his hand up your thigh and around to your leg, holding you in place as he began to pound into you harder.

You whispered a confession into his ear.

“I’ve dreamed about this so many times.”

Logan lifted his head from watching his cock destroy you, his brow arched in surprise.

“You’ve dreamt about me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, all of a sudden feeling shy.

“At night after a tense night between us, I’d go to my room and imagine that you’d follow me to…shut me up.”

Your lashes fanned your face as you smirked.

“Oh yeah?”

Logan swiveled his hips and you gasped. He was lighting you up from the inside.

“Sounds like a cool dream, Princess,” he said, leaning down to your ear.

“But you’re talking far too much in reality.”

And he began snapping his hips at a frenzied pace, causing your back to arch and your mouth to fall open, leaving you moaning until you screamed with your orgasm.

You couldn’t talk; hell you couldn’t even think when he was going like this.

——

At this point, there was no more finesse; Logan was stroking in and out of you, almost completely leaving you and reentering just to feel that sensation again. The way his fat cockhead breached you was like no other feeling in the world.

Your arched back was displaying your breasts to him at a perfect angle. It inspired something within him.

“Look at you Princess. All gorgeous and fucked out and taking this cock for me. All dumb now. Bet you like not having to think so much. Just take it like the good little slut you are for me, yeah?”

His filthy commentary made the coil in your belly snap, and you came like a freight train, squeezing him so much that he had pull out to keep from coming himself.

He kissed you as you could only whimper in protest. Logan felt a warmth blooming in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time, if at all, as you lay melted in his arms.

He couldn’t wait to be back inside you.

“Can’t tell you how many times I dreamt about having you under me just… like… this….”

And he slid back home.

“Mmm… those lips down there suck my tip so well, how will these lips do?”

Logan’s thick thumb was in your mouth and you swirled your tongue around it to show him what your mouth could do. He groaned and pried your mouth open with his hand.

“Keep it open and do what I say.”

——-

The band was tightening in your belly again. You knew what was coming and nearly came again when Logan spit into your mouth. The orgasms were blending together now.

“Swallow.”

You did, and Logan thrust into you hard an deep while thrumming your clit. That was all it took for you to cum again and this time, you gushed around him, making a mess on his bed.

He looked down in disbelief and laughed with glee, handling you like a fuck doll to do with as he pleased.

That's when you realized that you loved being used by him.

“Bet ya didn’t dream you’d be such a dirty little slut for me, did ya, Princess?”

——

Logan realized that he was your slut, too. He was lost to your sounds, the sight of your beautiful lust drunk face, and the feeling of your cunt squeezing him with multiple orgasms now.

He started tracing urgent circles on your clit again.

“Look at me.”

That’s when you said the most beautiful words to him.

“So fucking good L-Logan. Cum inside me. Please. ‘M on the pill.”

“Music to… my fucking.. ears….”

——

Logan’s fingers moved to your shoulders, holding you captive as he stroked deeper and harder. His harsh breaths in your ear increased, the most erotic sound in the world.

You clamped down on him and he growled, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside you, the warm wave of fluid combing and causing a lovely, filthy mess.

It was so satisfying.

And you couldn’t let it lie.

——

He pulled out and stared at the ceiling in disbelief, before looking over at you to find you playing in his cum and licking your fingers, leaning over to give him a taste on your lips.

“What? You tired, Old Man?”

He shook his head and laughed as his cock came back to life.

Kissing you back had been the biggest mistake of his life.

He was never going to get you out of his system.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

-----

You shivered as Logan loomed over you, with that damned eyebrow cocked and that smirk on his face.

“Oh Princess. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

Then Logan grabbed you and kissed you again.

——

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m3l0nfl0at · 1 month ago

Text

hey blondie - k. tsukishima

tsukishima kei x f!reader ; brothers best friend! tsukki x yamaguchi’s sister! reader, accidental meetings, kind of slow burn, grumpy x sunshine trope, loosely based off of hey blondie by dominic fike, fluff, angst, sendai frogs team cameo!!, overprotective brother yams, yapper gf x listener bf, they both misunderstand each other at times, and 12k words

summary ; accepting a blind date with your coworkers brother leads you to meeting one of your brothers friends. will you hit it off? or will your brother's overprotectiveness prevent you from being with each other?

melody's recommended melody ; hey blondie playlist

Feeling something bump you on the back of your head, you turn around quickly to be met with Akiteru’s gaze. Your eyebrows lifted in confusion while shrugging your shoulders. He points his finger downward at the paper he threw at you. Following his finger, you see the jumbled up piece of paper lying on the floor. Uncrumpling it with a huff to find Akiteru’s messy handwriting, “Blind date with my brother tomorrow?”. You lift your eyes up to see him staring at you in anticipation, knowing that Akiteru has been trying to set you up with his brother since forever. Now normally, you would politely decline saying you wanted nothing to do with dating. However, seeing all of your friends introduce you to their newfound partners, you think you’ll take a chance on Akiteru’s brother.

Checking the box that says yes, crumpling the paper up, throwing it back to Akiteru. You find him slowly unfolding the paper with both eyes shut tightly. His uneasiness soon turned into celebration, feeling victorious that he finally got you to agree. Taking note of the time you see that it’s lunch time, gathering your things to head out only to be stopped. Akiteru hands you his brother's number, telling you to text him when you get the chance. You grab it curious on why Akiteru was so fixated on getting you together with his brother. Not thinking much of it, you stuff the paper in your pocket deciding to deal with the situation when you get back. As you start to get a quick bite you get a call from your brother, “What’s up Tadashi?”.

“Well if it isn’t my sister who finally answers my calls! Do you know how long I’ve been calling you for?”, you giggle at your brother's frantic tone. “Sorry Yams, I was busy with work but what’re you calling for?”, you hear a sigh from your brother. “I know this is when you take lunch. I'm near your work and want to meet up at that new cafe?”, open the door to said new cafe. “I’m already here, so hurry up. Since you’re so deprived of Vitamin me.” Yamaguchi goes quiet, hearing only the mutter of city life behind him. “Sorry.”, Yamaguchi laughs. “Yeah, you should be. See you in five!”, hanging up the call to order for your brother and you.

Sitting down after retrieving your order to only hear the little bell on the door jingling, looking up to be met with a green head of hair. “Took you long enough, Tadashi. You took so long that my lunch break is over.” Yamaguchi stares at you wide eyed, as you start grabbing your things pausing halfway. “Oh man Yams, you should see your face! I’m joking, sit down before my lunch is actually over. I have like a whole hour for lunch, don’t worry about it.”, Yamaguchi sits down pouting, upset that you made him look like a fool. “So big brother, anything new and interesting with you?”, you look up at him while sipping your coffee, almost burning your lip. “I told you to stop drinking things that are so hot! You’re going to burn your taste buds!”, he grabs the cup from you, placing it down. “Nothing is new, Yachi and I went to go watch our friend play volleyball yesterday. Oh! I fixed the copier today, so that’s new today, I guess.”, you giggle. Wiggling your eyebrows, “Yachi, huh? Who’s that, a new girlfriend?”. Yamaguchi chokes on his drink, furiously waving his hands around, “No! No! We’re just friends! I swear!”.

“What about you, huh? Anything new sis?”, you hesitate about telling him that your coworker is setting you up on a fake date. “Well, not really but you know my friend, Hana, she got married last week. Oh, and Sayuri got a new girlfriend! So, yeah I think your copier story has got me beat this time.”, you look blankly at the pastry you picked up. Yamaguchi looks at you pitifully, thinking of someone who he could set you up with. Yet, it didn’t help that he only had a handful of friends plus they were all off limits. None of them were good enough for you, not even Tsukki. You’ve never even met them before so it’s not like he can just randomly tell all his friends, hey did you know I have a sister! Shaking off the thought, “Well, love comes when you least expect it right?”, you nod knowing you were in no rush.

Yamaguchi’s phone rings, he holds it up before excusing himself to go outside. Staring at him through the glass to find him red-faced. Taken back, you try to read his lips only to make out the words, no way and no you can’t come. You laugh at your brother refusing someone until you see him deflate, knowing that whatever goofy tactics he did ended up failing. Dragging his feet all the way back into the cafe, “What was it? Did the great copier break again?”. “No, it was my friend. He said he wanted to join us, even though I told him no.”, you laugh knowing your brother has always been a pushover. “Well, is it so bad that your sister finally meets your friends?”, your brother nods. “Yes, it is bad. They’re boys, I don’t trust them. You can meet Yachi and that’s it everyone else is off limits!” Yamaguchi crosses his hands making an X.

“What are you even saying?”, you look up to find a stranger with tousled blonde hair and half rimmed glasses. Yamaguchi freezes, slowly lifting his gaze up to the stranger. “Is this why you didn’t want me to come? You were meeting someone?”, you freeze but not out of fear. “I’m Yamaguchi’s sister, nice to meet you!”, the stranger stares at you before sending you a soft wave, his face puzzled. “Well look at the time. Tadashi, it was nice seeing you but I got to go! Let’s meet up soon, okay.”, you get up quickly, worrying you won't make it to work on time. Tsukishima looks to where you were sitting before looking at Yamaguchi, “Spill.”.

Yamaguchi lets out a deep exhale, “Ok, yes I do have a sister. Regardless, she’s off limits so don’t even think about it Tsukki!”. Tsukishima rolls his eyes at Yamaguchi’s refusal. Of course he thought you were… aesthetically pleasing to look at. Yet, Tsukishima still respects Yamaguchi and decides to not protrude where he’s not welcomed, it’s not like he’ll actively seek you out anyway. He’s sure if he did Yamaguchi would reject every time he tried. Going about their day, the pair stay in that quaint cafe. Tsukishima pretending he didn’t just meet you for the sake of Yamaguchi. While you quickly walk your way to work trying to forget the handsome stranger's face.

Heading into work, settling back into the flow as you suddenly get interrupted, “Have you texted him yet?”. You turn around watching Akiteru question you, “No, I'm sorry I went to lunch with my brother but you know what I’ll text him after my shift.”. As Akiteru starts walking away you remember what you wanted to ask him, “Hey Aki, can I ask you why you’ve been wanting to set me up with your brother?”. He turns around placing his hand on the back of his neck, “My brother is kind of…reserved. He doesn’t really go for things. Seeing your personality, I figured that maybe you can take him out of his shell a bit.”, you think about his answer and debate if you could be with someone the opposite of your outgoing nature.

Well, you never know unless you try! You smile at him, thanking him for being honest and saying you look forward to meeting his brother. You grab the piece of paper from out of your pocket, inputting it into your contacts before sending out a quick message. “Hello, Is this Akiteru’s brother? He told me to contact you regarding our date, are you available tomorrow night? (‘•.•’)?” Putting your phone away to continue your work day, feeling confident as to what’ll come out of this date.

Back at the cafe, Tsukishima’s phone vibrates on the table interrupting Yamaguchi mid conversation. Tsukishima glances down looking at the notification being from an unknown number, picking it up seeing your text. “Who is it, Tsukki?”, he quickly replies, placing down the phone. “Nothing, my brother set me up on a blind date with his coworker.”, Yamaguchi perks up excited to see Tsukki show some initiative on his love life. “What? You? You agreed to a blind date with someone your brother picked for you?” Yamaguchi chuckles a bit at Tsukki’s abnormal behavior. “Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

Just as quickly as the day started, it ended. Beginning to pack up your things to leave so you could make the train. Walking to the station looking down at your phone to see a response from Akiteru’s brother. Not paying attention you bump into someone, “Oh, I’m so sorry!”. Looking up to find the stranger at the cafe, your brother’s friend. “Just be sure to watch where you’re going. I don’t think Yamaguchi would want you hurt taking the train.”, you freeze at his monotone voice. You see him heading the same way as you, not wanting to think you’re following him you decide to lurk steps behind him.

As you see him taking the same local train you were, dammit! Hoping on looking for a spot anywhere but near him. Glancing around to find none, deciding to stand holding onto the bar above. Pulling out your phone glancing at the text Akiteru’s brother left, “I’m available. Did you have a place in mind? Call me Kei, my brother talks very highly of you so no need to be formal.”, you feel hopeful especially since he sounds so nice over text. “Let’s do hotpot! The weather is getting slightly chillier, it’s the perfect season for it! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)”, sending it excited for tomorrow. Tsukishima faintly chuckles at your joyful response, agreeing that the weather was getting slightly chillier enough to enjoy hot food.

Looking over at the stranger you met earlier today to see him zoned into whatever was on his phone, the train comes to a stop. He looks up catching you staring at him, you wave. He looks around to make sure you’re waving at him. You knew your stop was next, deciding to overcome your nervousness you sat next to him. “Hey, I’m Yamaguchi’s sister! I know I left abruptly earlier, sorry about that. You’re Yamaguchi’s friend, right?”, Tsukki blankly looks at you taken aback by how friendly you are. “Yeah, I’m Yamaguchi’s longtime best friend. My name is Tsukishima by the way.”, you repeat his name to make sure to keep it stored. “Well Tsukishima, it’s really late what’re you doing out so late at night?”, you cock your head to the side, curious. “I could ask you the same thing.”, he raises an eyebrow in your direction. You pout, “Well don’t tell Yams but I usually leave work this late. Now, your turn.”. “I practiced a little too late, I wanted to practice on my jump float serve.”, you quirk up knowing that that was Yams signature move in high school.

Before being able to respond you feel the train come to a stop, looking to see your stop was already coming up. “Man, I was looking forward to talking to you more. Maybe get some dirt on Yams but it seems like the universe has a different plan, my stops approaching. It was nice talking to you Tsukishima!” You get up and wave goodbye seeing him wave back this time. Tsukishima realizes he never got your name, doubting Yamaguchi would give it to him. He feels a bit exhausted after that conversation, you were the embodiment of energy. It kind of creeped him out, you were like a combination of Yamaguchi and Hinata. Pulling back out his phone to respond to his blind date, “Hotpot sounds good, send me the address and I’ll meet you there tomorrow at 7:30.”

Getting ready to leave, you make sure to stop by Akiteru’s cubicle, letting him know to give you good luck. He sends you off with two thumbs up, telling you not to worry and if Kei does anything let him know so he can reprimand him. Walking to the station you look at your phone texting Kei that he is still able to make the date to which he responds with a simple yes and see you soon. Getting onto the train, you see Tsukishima sitting down already. “Is this seat taken Tsukishima?”, you smile at him. He looks up to you shaking his head allowing you to sit down, “You know I didn’t get your name. All I know is that you’re Yamaguchi’s sister.”. Sitting up you realize you never told him your name, urgently telling him and apologizing for your manners. “What brought you on the train this early today?”, you giggle as Tsukishima calmly manners your conversation from yesterday. “I have a blind date actually, I didn’t want to tell Yams yesterday because he gets all overprotective.”, Tsukishima pauses.

Suddenly everything goes in slow motion. Were you Akiteru’s coworker? No way that’s bizarre, maybe you have a different blind date? You look over to Tsukishima seeing him stare into oblivion, poking his shoulder. “Earth to Tsukki-”, “Do you know Akiteru?”, you laugh. “Yeah I do, he's my coworker actually, why?” Tsukishima pauses, staring at you deeply waiting for it to click in your mind. You stare at him oblivious, before it suddenly dawns on you why he would know Akiteru and how he suddenly had the same facial features as him. Laughing to fill the awkward silence from Tsukishima, “Who could’ve guessed? I mean I should’ve, you resemble Akiteru! Whew, I feel relieved. I’m not going on a date with a complete stranger.”

Tsukishima panics mentally, Yamaguchi said you were off limits. Should he say now that you guys can’t be anything but friends? Can he even be friends with you? How should he go about this? “Don’t overthink so much Tsukishima! My brother won’t care, let’s just enjoy our hangout together!” hearing you take off the label of a date eases him a bit. Deciding to just stop the overthinking mess in his head to enjoy this hangout with you, a hangout that’s all it was. “It’s not like we have to tell my brother anyway. He keeps Yachi and him a secret anyway.”, Tsukishima looks over at you surprised. “He says Yachi doesn’t like him but they both attend all my games together. If someone as oblivious as you can figure that out then I feel bad for Yachi.”, you look at him offended.

“I’m not oblivious! I just use my brain only for work. Anything after that doesn’t need much thought.”, Tsukishima grimaces at that. “Any improvements on your jump float serve?” Tsukishima is surprised your brain remembered that small detail. “No actually, now I see why Yamaguchi practiced religiously. It’s like just when I’m about to do it, I hit it and instead serve regularly.”, you place your elbow on your stomach thinking back to Yams practicing. Remembering how relentlessly he trained to hit that complicated serve. “Well knowing how hard Yams worked in high school he was like on level twenty.”, Tsukishima questions what you’re about to say next. “Whereas you’re like level five, don’t get so down on yourself. It’s not like you suck at volleyball, take your time.”, he’s shocked how realistic you are while also being so aloof.

“If you were paying attention, mister, I'm so oblivious. Then you would know our stop is next, see I pay attention. Come on, let's get our things together.”, you smile, grabbing Tsukishima’s hand. He falters, shy by the sudden physical touch. You look back, seeing him nervous before pulling back your hand. “Oh, I’m sorry! I should’ve asked before grabbing your hand.” Tsukishima brushes off saying it’s fine as he clasps his hands together. Following your lead to the hotpot place, Tsukishima learns you only allow yourself a hotpot twice a year. You tell him he should feel lucky that you’re sharing this rare experience with him to which Tsukishima side eyes you.

Entering the hotpot restaurant you say hello to the owner who welcomes you and Tsukishima kindly. Tsukishima likes how friendly you are, it allows him to sit back and observe. He prefers not talking too much instead enjoying the rare opportunity to be silent. However, you snap him back into reality as you let him choose what broth he wants to go into the hotpot. After picking an equal amount of veggies before heading to sit down at the table. After settling in, Tsukishima starts cooking the meat, adding that he doesn’t really have a big appetite. You wave him off saying it’s fine, “Let’s get to the good part Tsukishima. Have any good dirt on Yamaguchi?”

Tsukishima looks up at you to see you grinning evilly with your chopsticks in hand placing the veggies in the broth. He really thinks to himself if he did have dirt on Yamaguchi only thinking of one story. “Yamaguchi drunkenly admitted one time that he had a crush on Akiteru.”, you blink before belly laughing. “Oh my gosh, is that why he never let me hangout with you? Maybe we should try getting them together! Oh but he likes Yachi now.” you deeply think how to redeem Yams love life. Tsukishima playfully rolls his eyes, “What about you? Why did Yamaguchi keep you a secret for so long huh?”, you look at him surprised that he was so blunt. “Well, Yams told me it’s because he didn't want any of you making a pass at me. You know the overprotective type but I guess time has a different plan, huh?”

Tsukishima fiddles with his fingers after plating all the beef, knowing he was thinking so much you lift up a baby corn. “These are my favorite, the veggies have been cooking for a while so they should be perfect! Here try.”, Tsukishima closes in, taking your offer and trying the baby corn off of your chopsticks. He agrees that the veggies are done and cooked to perfection, lifting up a thumbs up. You visibly light up at Tsukishima’s agreement to which he smiles just a bit. Even though you and Yamaguchi don’t really look alike, he sees it in the mannerisms you share. Both liking affirmations that you’re doing something right, opening up to people more when you feel comfortable with them, and both sharing the same smile.

Tsukishima leans over to grab more vegetables and broth, just because he wants to see you smile again he praises you for the tasty broth you picked saying he was suddenly feeling really hungry. Not much to his surprise you light up and Tsukishima feels satisfied, when he gets home he’ll have to thank Akiteru for making him go on this date after all. You lift up the broth with your ladle, Tsukishima stops you. “That’s way too hot. You’re going to burn yourself.”, you look at him puzzled. “How do you know that?”, Tsukishima questions if you’re just oblivious or if you have poor eyesight. “The steam coming out of it? Let it cool down first.”, you listen, looking at him as he nods. Lifting it again only to realize he was right, the temperature allowed you to really take in the flavor. That bastard!

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction you changed the conversation. “I know you play volleyball but what’s your position?”, Tsukishima glances at you. “Middle blocker, I essentially just block the ball. Not very flashy, I know.” You stop him, “What that’s awesome! That’s why you’re super tall, it gives you the advantage! Plus, I would watch all the rallies with Yams. Men's Volleyball players spike that ball hardcore, meaning you would have to keep a really steady arm.” you stop yourself realizing your rambling. “It might not be flashy but you’re a part of the team so it’s important.”, Tsukishima agrees. Happy that you made his insecurity into something positive.

That night, you and Tsukishima continue to talk about various things from your siblings, your past school life, and your jobs. This is where you find out Tsukishima actually works near you at the Sendai museum. You hype up his job even more than you did him being a pro volleyball player. Tsukishima didn’t talk often, he gave the occasional nod and even some small input here and there but it never felt forced. He was actually paying attention to what you were saying, putting importance on every single word you were saying. Talking to him felt comforting even if he just stayed quiet, you liked someone who just listened to you talk about the random things in life.

After finishing up your hotpot, you bid a goodbye to the owner, thanking them for the delicious meal. They laugh saying to enjoy the rest of your night. You find Tsukishima glancing over at you holding your bag. You walk over to him, “So are you taking the same train as me again?”, Tsukishima nods. “I’m taking the same route as you. It would be rude of me to not walk you home. I can’t let my friend's sister walk home alone, it wouldn’t be safe.”, you accept his offer as he links your arms making sure not to get lost in the crowd. Making it to the train he offers you a seat, sitting down next to you, handing you your bag.

You didn’t know if it was the broth or the hard day at work but you were exhausted, glad that you ended the day with a new found friend. Feeling your phone vibrate you take it out to see a text from Tsukishima, he points to your phone when you look at him confused. The text read, Are you tired?. “Did you really save me on your phone as Kei?”, you nod. “You told me I could call you Kei, did you redact that statement?”, Tsukishima glances anywhere but at you. “No, you can call me Kei.” you laugh, you guess Yams isn’t the only pushover. You text him, I’m tired. (っ,-) My stop is next though so I’ll be fine! ദ്ദി(• ˕ •マ.ᐟ). “How do you come up with those things so fast?”, “If I teach you will you start sending them back?”. “No, no way.”

On the train ride you learned that Tsukishima isn’t really enthusiastic unless it’s about Volleyball, he never has a big appetite, and he loves music and dinosaurs. To which you added that your favorite dinosaur is a Pterodactyl due to always wanting to fly instead of being tall. Tsukishima sidney’s you thinking you made a dig at him, to which you start laughing. You tell him later to text you his playlist, wanting to hear his music taste but Tsukishima rejected saying he doesn’t just share that information with anyone. Approaching your apartment, you declare that you will get close enough one day that he’ll have no problem giving it to you.

“Well blondie, we’re here! Thanks for walking me, I mean you’re right who would mess with me when I have a six foot personal guard dog.”, Tsukishima huffs brushing off your comment. “When can we hang out again?”, Tsukishima is surprised you wanted to hangout again due to him being mostly silent this date. He didn’t think you would find him interesting enough, “I guess we could meet at the cafe tomorrow for lunch?”. He fiddles with his fingers, “Ok! I take lunch at one so make sure to meet me there. Don’t leave me waiting.” You walk off forgetting something, “Thank you Kei, I had a lot of fun.”, you walk up to your door waving to him before closing your door. He watches you close the door before calling Akiteru, “Hello, Kei. What’s up?”. Tsukishima takes a breathe, walking back to the station, “Thanks.”. “Thanks for what?”, Tsukishima hangs up not wanting to get gushy over the phone, opting to instead put on his headphones.

Walking to your office in the morning you expected Akiteru to question you. However you did not imagine that he would be sitting in your cubicle waiting for you. Akiteru hands you a cup of coffee as you settle into your workflow. “How was it?!”, you flash a smile towards him as Akiteru stares at you wide eyed. “It went well! Tell me about it!��, you think about telling him, debating whether or not you should. “We went to get some hotpot and we’re going to hangout today for lunch. That’s about it.”, Akiteru lights up, excited about the potential of your relationship.

“I don’t want to put a label on anything but I want to be friends first. So sorry Akiteru, you’re going to be playing the long game.” He deflates at your comment expecting a love at first sight story. Akiteru thanks you for your intel because he knows Kei would never tell him anything. You sip on the coffee Akiteru brought you almost instantly burning your tongue. Remembering last night where Tsukishima stopped you and Yams scolding you the day before. Placing down the coffee cup with a huff. Of course they were best friends, they both nagged at you like they were the same person. Thinking of Tsukishima, you pull out your phone to see if he ever texted you back last night about what cafe you guys were going to be at. “Did you forget already? The one we first met at, you need to pay more attention.” You huff, he even reprimands you while texting. Reacting to the text with a thumbs up, anticipating your lunch break.

Hours go by slowly as you spend every hour glancing at the clock. As soon as the clock strikes 12:00 you get up to head to lunch, telling Akiteru you were heading out. Walking to the cafe you feel your phone vibrate, “You’re late.”, you know that tone anywhere. “I’m actually on time, you’re earlier. It’s a five minute walk, just sit down and look pretty you’ll be fine.” you hang up on him, laughing at your remark. As you were putting your phone back in your pocket you feel it buzzing again. “Kei-“, “Kei? Who’re you talking too!”, you freeze, Yamaguchi called. “Keitru, Akiteru, sorry my coworker was bothering me.”, you hesitate wondering if he’ll believe your cover up.

“Whatever, want to meet up for lunch?”, you open the door to the cafe, Tsukishima waving you over. “Sorry Yams, I’m actually with my coworker eating lunch.”, Tsukishima glances up blankly, scared. “Oh that sucks, ok well maybe some other day then.” You exchange kick goodbyes, hanging up. “You should totally see your face, Kei. You're paler than you usually are, chill out. Let’s go order!” Tsukishima gets up as you both leave your belongings in the booth. Tsukishima orders first and you’re up next ordering something iced to which Tsukishima glances at you sideways. He pays again, even though he paid for a hotpot last time.

“Why’re you getting your coffee iced?”, you look at him questionably. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”, he chuckles knowing you were going to tell him anyway. “I burned my tongue on some coffee in the morning.”, now he laughs. You roll your eyes, of course the only time he laughs is at the sake of your misery. You go to retort but he suddenly gets a call, he doesn’t make the same mistake you do. Actually looking at the caller ID, flashing his phone to you which shows the screen that said Yamaguchi. Now it’s your turn to laugh as you watch him accept the call, paler than a ghost, “What is it Yamaguchi?”.

You hear a loud “Tsukki!” over the phone as Tsukishima backs up from his phone. You beg him to put it on speaker to which he mouths no. As you start pouting he rolls his eyes, switching to speaker. “Tsukki, do you want to go to lunch together?”, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “No Yamaguchi, I’m already at lunch with someone.”, you hear Yama gasp. “Tsukki you’re with someone else?”, Tsukishima agrees with Yama. “Well I can join! Who is it with?”, Tsukishima trips over his words. “I’m with my brother.”. Yamaguchi goes silent as you giggle silently, knowing the lore between Yamaguchi and Akiteru.

“Man, first my sister and now you too. Well, I’ll leave you to it Tsukki! Have fun!”, Tsukishima hangs up. Eyes zeroing on you, furiously. “I’m never doing that again.”, you laugh at how scared Tsukishima is of Yamaguchi. “Anyways Kei, how is your day going? Besides almost dying at my brother's phone call.”, you look at him taking a sip of your drink. “Well the museum got some new properties for the new exhibit opening up.”, you urge him to continue. “It’s nothing cool, just a couple of exoskeletons of prehistoric animals.”. “Tsukishima, you have to work with me here. Please, I bet working at a museum is awesome! It’s like Night at The Museum!”, Tsukishima lifts a brow. “No way, you’ve never seen Night at the Museum?”, he shakes his head as you realize what your next hangout is.

“Basically this guy works at a museum as a guard and everything in the museum comes to life. It’s awesome.”, Tsukishima huffs. “It’s not like that at all, at least what I do isn’t. However, I really doubt anything comes to life, sorry.”, you laugh rolling your eyes. “Then tell me mister my work is nothing cool, what is your job?”, he thinks for a minute really thinking of something that won’t sugarcoat his job. “I file the paperwork for all new objects, I do bidding offers on new items for upcoming exhibits, and I give little kids tours. Does that sound interesting?”, he takes a sip of his drink thinking he finally exceeded in making his job sound lame. “So let me get this straight, you do bidding wars, talk to adorable children almost every week, and get to over analyze pre historic objects?”, he nods. “That doesn’t sound lame at all, you fraud!”, he shakes his head, disagreeing with you.

Only you could find the right words to make his job sound more exciting than it is. “Man your job is so cool, what’s the oldest thing you’ve ever bid on?”, you light up. Every time Tsukishima talks to you, he realizes just how much you remind him of that pipsqueak Hinata, are you and Hinata secretly related instead of Yamaguchi? “Nothing too crazy, I recently won some 400 year old armor the other day. That should be coming in soon along with a couple of swords and stuff.” you let your mouth hang open in shock. “You’re telling me that you’ve held a real sword before and you don’t think that’s cool!?”

Tsukishima blushes, confused as to why you’re so convinced of making his job seem cooler than it was to him. “Kei, you’re so cool. You’re a pro-volleyball player who works at a museum? So not only are you athletic but you’re also super smart? I see why my brother hid you from me.”, Tsukishima chokes on his drink. You patted his back making sure he was okay. Tsukishima gave a thumbs up, looking down at his fingers. He’s received compliments before just not like this. Not compliments that felt like they’re permanently going to be etched in his mind. Or compliments that felt so heavy on his heart that he wanted to explode in embarrassment.

“Oh look at the time! I hope I didn’t keep you too long Kei! My work isn’t too far but I’m not sure how far your commute is?”, he waved his hand not wanting to concern you with that. “Bye bye Kei! We can hangout this weekend! Movie date at mine!”. You left Tsukishima to deal with all the glances of nosy people who overheard you. He picks up after him heading back to his work, texting you “If we’re both picking movies then we have to watch Jurassic Park.”. His eyes bulge out of his sockets, “Deal! I’ve actually never seen it before. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)”. You wait for Tsukishima’s reply, shocked when you look at your phone. “Lame.”

The weekend approached, texting with Tsukishima on and off about what you had planned to do on your date. He wasn’t really surprised when you didn’t end up telling him, chalking it up to it being a suprise. Tsukishima rolls his eyes at your response, heading out with his headphones and bag. Opening the door and locking up, “Hey Tsukki! Where are you headed to?”, he turns around seeing Yamaguchi and sighs, upset that he locked the door for nothing. “I’m going to my brothers for the day. I won’t be back till later so don’t wait up.”, Yamaguchi nods, unlocking the door and stepping in saying goodbye to Tsukki. Closing the door, Tsukishima lets out a breath, maybe he shouldn’t keep doing this. What’ll happen if Yamaguchi finds out, is keeping this a secret even worth it?

Tsukishima’s thoughts cloud over his head, he doesn’t even know how he ended up at your door. Lost in the music and his thoughts, he pulls out his phone double checking if he had the correct address. Knocking once he’s confirmed everything, you open the door, sparkles and all. While he wasn’t going to exaggerate saying all his thoughts just magically went away, being with you did lessen the weight on his shoulders. With you he wasn’t in his head all the time, more present in the moment. When you took in Tsukishima’s quietness you opened the door wider, “Don’t leave me hanging Kei, we have two movies to get through and some cake to make!”.

You know Tsukishima was abnormally quiet, you didn’t want to bother him though. Tsukishima didn’t seem like the person to open up so easily. So instead you choose to distract him, pulling him by his sleeve to your kitchen seeing all the ingredients displayed nicely. “We’re going to be making strawberry shortcake!”, Tsukishima looks over to you. “Did you ask Yamaguchi what my favorite dessert was?”, you blankly stare at him. “No way it’s my favorite dessert too! As if Yams would ever answer any of my questions about you. Plus, it’s super easy to make!”

“What Jurassic Park are we watching?” Tsukishima snaps out of his daze. “The very first one, it’s the only important one anyway.”, you whisk all the wet ingredients together missing the Tsukishima that was more vocal than usual at the cafe. Deciding to do what you do best, fill the silence for the both of you. “I wouldn’t take you as someone who likes something as sweet as Strawberry Shortcake.”, Tsukishima laughs. “I may not be the cheeriest person but that doesn’t mean I lack taste.”, you chuckle looking over to Tsukishima. Starting to see things you haven’t seen before like how he has the faintest smile lines or how he has a scar in between his fingers, most likely from volleyball. These details don’t really stand out to you but once you start looking at Tsukishima as more than just your brother’s Pro-Volleyball player friend, you’ll see that maybe there's more to him than you think.

“Can I ask what you like about strawberry shortcake?”, you say with a soft tone. Tsukishima looks at you, fully taking in your expression before answering. Curious if you were actually asking what he likes about the strawberry shortcake or what he likes about you. Yet you showed no change in your emotion, he debates whether or not to be blunt and define what you're asking. Not willing to put his pride aside, he decides to find common aspects in you and strawberry shortcake. “It’s very vibrant and pretty. It’s not overly sweet, more like sweet in a refreshing way. Every time I take a bite it’s like being at ease, nothing else but me and the shortcake.”, you turn around confused. “Are you attracted to the shortcake Kei? Why are you so detailed?”, Tsukishima’s speechless and embarrassed. You really were just talking about the shortcake. “I was expecting, it’s so yummy or I love strawberries! However, I think you might be in love with strawberry shortcake, maybe you should marry it.”, you pat him on the back then place the cakes in the oven.

Tsukishima fills the awkward silence with what he knows best, music. Playing his monthly playlist, you turn around quickly lighting up at the music playing. You look at Tsukishima but he hastily looks away, feeling very vulnerable at this moment. Your heart pumps in joy, knowing that Tsukishima trusts you enough to share something he loves with you. “Is this ADOY?”, Tsukishima glances down at his fingers, nodding. “You’re right, you’re a man with taste.”, you playfully wink at him. “I saw them live last year, they were so cool! This song is my favorite!”, you reach out your hand in Tsukishima’s direction while singing along. He looks up, shaking his head, accepting defeat and retracting your hand. Feeling that Tsukishima might not be the dancing type. Until Tsukishima reaches for your hand as it almost completely retreats, linking it together with his. You both swayed back and forth, spinning until you felt dizzy as the cake scent filled the room. Laughing when you had to go on your tiptoes to reach your arm over him. At this moment, his thoughts were now completely gone.

As the music stops, you hear your timer beeping. You slowly pull away your hand with a smile, cautious not to cause any misunderstandings. “Oh Kei, you have to come look at this. It’s beautiful!”, Kei looks at the cake not understanding what you’re seeing. Nodding anyway, you put the cake away to chill as you grab some snacks so you can watch Jurassic Park while the cakes chill. “Kei if this movie sucks, you’re so taking me to hotpot again.”, Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “If it sucks it's because you’re uncultured, not because of me.”, you smile happy that he’s back to normal.

“You’re telling me this all happens because some jerk turns off the power in the park?”, Tsukishima nods. “Ok, but who’s smart idea was it to be like “Hey, let’s replicate dinosaurs!”? They’re extinct for a reason!”, Tsukishima questions your opinions. “At least the T-Rex saved them at the last minute. Not all dinosaurs were bad.”, you agree with Tsukishima. “That is until the new ones where they do the exact same thing again!”, Tsukishima chuckles, shaking his head. “No, the Chris Pratt one’s don’t exist, forget those from your brain altogether.”, you laugh. “Well at least my movie won’t scare the crap out of you but first, let’s frost that cake!” you grab Tsukishima’s hand, dragging him to the kitchen.

Grabbing the piping bag and handing it to him, Tsukishima looks at you questionably. “You can’t pipe frosting dino boy?”, his face falls. “Here let me show you, since you’re so clueless without me.”, you press down on the piping bag. Really concentrating on how to delicately place the frosting, Tsukishima watches you. Really glancing at your concentrated face more than your piping technique. “See it’s easy, even though it looks kind of crooked that doesn’t matter.”, you look up to see Tsukishima grinning. You’re taken aback, having never really seen Tsukishima smile before, curious what’s got him smiling. “You must really like strawberry shortcake, if it makes you smile that much.” He shakes his head, scoffing. Tsukishima couldn’t love something, that’s lame.

He picks the piping bag from you copying exactly what you were doing, he backs up noticing that his piping was off. He looks back to see if you were watching, disappointed to see you snickering. Going behind him to help him, “You’re putting too much pressure Kei! Here, softly and pick up, see!”. He feels your hands encapsulate his, your hold firm but yet so gentle as if putting too much pressure would mess up the cake. Blushing at your frame behind him, you slowly let go letting him handle the rest of the frosting. “There you go Kei! You’re the best!”, you flash him a thumbs up, he scoffs in return but you see the blush lightly decorating his face. You smile going off to fetch the strawberries that he cut. Placing them down on the cake while Tsukishima frosts. Grabbing some frosting and placing it on Tsukishima’s nose, he eyes his nose in disbelief, grabbing it and spreading it back onto your cheek. You laugh going to your sink to wash your face, grabbing a knife and some plates.

“Are you ready for the best strawberry shortcake you’ve ever had?”, Tsukishima lifts a brow. “You did hear me when I said this is my favorite dessert right? Meaning I get this often.”, you nod still stubbornly confident. “Meaning I’ve eaten this many times and am a very harsh critic.”, you close your eyes smirking. “Tsukishima, you underestimate my baking abilities. My brother says I have the best shortcake recipe ever.”, he stays quiet. “Your brother's favorite food is soggy fries, I don’t think I trust his opinion.”, your shoulders fall. Cutting a piece and handing it to Tsukishima, feeling defeat in talking up your baking abilities. He takes a bite and falls silent but you notice this small sparkle in his eyes, “I made you eat crow! Tell me Tsukishima, it’s the best! Come on, tell me.”, you wag your finger waiting for his compliments.

Tsukishima avoids eye contact, “It’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be, I’ve had better.”. You lean closer to him, “I’ll accept your feedback but you have to look me in my eyes and say it.”. Tsukishima’s voice falters as he tries to look you in the eye, he notices your eyes zeroed in on him, wanting to prove him wrong. “It’s ok, I’ve had better.”, you laugh calling his bluff. “Well since it’s so bad, I’ll let you take the leftovers home. Any objections?” Tsukishima stays silent, no rebuttal. “That’s what I thought blondie, come on take your cake and let’s watch the superior movie.”

“That is nothing like working at my job. Maybe if I was more delusional and romanticize everything like you do it would feel like that but no, not even remotely close.”, . “I know that this is not what your job is like, duh, it’s a kids movie. But you have to admit it was more entertaining than Jurassic Park.”, Tsukishima shakes his head. You huff, Tsukishima sure was prideful never admitting you were right. “You know if you don’t say i’m wrong then you’re saying i’m right.”, you smirk getting close to him.

Tsukishima laughs, “I aspire to be as wrong and delusional as you one day.”. You stutter back, before getting really close to his face, “At least I can admit when I'm wrong blondie.”, you smirk. Tsukishima’s jaw clenched, his voice lowers as he moves more into your personal space only a couple of inches separating you two. “Are you saying I’m stubborn?”, you smile, knowing he’s playing right into your game. Whispering in a sarcastic tone, “Well look at the state of you, not wanting to admit that I’m right. What would you call yourself Kei?”. You inch closer to him, he stares at your lips, “Tenacious, I would say I’m tenacious.”. You chuckle, holding eye contact with him, not wanting to let him win in making you feel timid.

Kei looks at you then down at your lips, you start to tilt your head. Waiting for Kei to lean in, giving you the green light to continue. He leans in slowly, you start to anticipate feeling his lips on yours. Wondering how he would kiss you, would he kiss you softly? Just as you start leaning in you back away, interrupted by Tsukishima’s phone ringing. You feel yourself deflate, laughing. Of course, the universe was against you. Tsukishima pulls away, groaning as he picks up the call. “What do you want Kogane?”, his voice very sharp and his hands rubbing his brows. “Yes Kogane, I know practice is tomorrow, what about it?”, he now answers very calmly and sarcastically.

Tsukishima looks over to you before quickly fleeting his gaze somewhere else as if he didn’t just try to kiss you. “No way. I’m not going to put it on speaker Kogane.”, he rolls his eyes. “I should’ve never shared my location with you. Fine, I’ll ask her. Don’t call me back.”, you laugh wondering what he was going to ask you. He hangs up, suddenly standing up right, “Want to come to my practice tomorrow?”. Tsukishima watches as your eyes sparkle, happy that he asked you. “Of course! It’s going to be so sweet! I can see your block and you can show me that new serve you’ve been working on!”

Tsukishima gets up after looking at the time, cursing himself for losing track of time. Grabbing his tote bag, “Don’t get your hopes up, I haven’t fully aced it yet.”. You get up going to the fridge, handing him the cake you packed for him. “With me there I think you’ll kill it!”, you wink and open the door. “Be safe Kei! I can’t wait to see you at practice tomorrow!”. Tsukishima watches as you close the door feeling nervous that you’re going to watch him practice. He puts on his headphones listening to the song you were dancing to earlier, smiling. Heading home and text you on the bus where his practice is and a playlist of his. “We’re officially best friends! The famous Tsukishima Kei sent me his playlist! (ó﹏ò｡)”, he locks his phone. Rolling his eyes and smiling at your dorky response.

Arriving home, he hears Yamaguchi still awake. As he places his things on the table, trying to make space in the refrigerator. “You’re finally home Tsukki. Oh? What’s that big container?”, Tsukishima glances back at him. “Shortcake.”. Yamaguchi jolts up, voice raising, “Can I have some Tsukki?”. Tsukishima nods, “Get some before I put it away.”, Yamaguchi scrambles to find a plate and utensils. “This is so good Tsukki, it reminds me of my sister's shortcake! She makes it the best!”, Tsukishima tenses up. “Whatever Yamaguchi, I’m going to go to my room.”, he places it back in the fridge. Quickly retreating to his room to ignore any further questions or comments. He reflects on the day he had with you, anticipating tomorrow as he listens to the same song on repeat.

Walking to the gymnasium Tsukishima sent you, humming while feeling your heart bump out of your chest in excitement. You were never really allowed at Yamaguchi’s games due to your presence making him more nervous. Reaching the gym, walking in to look around, bumping into a stranger, immediately apologizing. He turns around as you look up to him, noticing he kind of looks like a mix of the Pokémon, Dodrio and Farfetch’d. “Sorry miss but interviewers aren’t allowed in here.”, you clear your throat. “Sorry, I just came from work but I’m with Tsukishima, he invited me to watch his practice.”, you scold yourself for coming straight from work. The man perks up in excitement, “You're her!”. You slightly start to shake your head, “Yeah, I’m her? All good things said, I hope.”, the stranger laughs before extending his hand out to you. “I’m Koganegawa, Tsukishima’s teammate.”, you reach out shaking his hand. “You’ve heard about me?”, your chest tightens. Feeling surprised that Tsukishima talks about you since he seemed like the type to keep his personal life quiet. “Oh, we had to drag it out of Tsukishima that he is seeing someone.”, your heart speeds up.

Were you seeing Tsukishima, is that how he described it? You hadn’t thought about it that way, everytime you were going on these dates, you just felt so comfortable that it didn’t even feel like a date. Usually when you went on dates you felt uncomfortable and uneasy but with Tsukishima it felt simple. Shaking your head, paying attention to what Koganegawa is saying. “He was showing up to practice less uptight and leaving practice earlier than usual. When we asked he turned all flushed, we knew something was up.”, he leaned in whispering. “He must really like you if he wanted to keep you a secret that bad.”. You force down your foolish grin, opting to laugh instead, Koganegawa starts laughing with you, finding you and Tsukishima’s relationship adorable. “Ok, Kogane, that’s enough. We’re scrimmaging in ten, get ready.”, you tilt over Koganegawa’s silhouette to see Tsukishima walking over to you. He suddenly stands taller than before, as if he's trying to one-up Koganegawa.

He comes up to you, placing a hand on your back, your eyes widen in surprise. Is this really the Tsukishima who was awkward when you grabbed his hand? Looking up at Tsukishima, who shows no change in his face yet his body language says everything you need to hear. “I’ll show you to the bleachers, Kogane tell Kyotani I’ll be there soon.”, Koganegawa nods, bidding you both goodbye. You laugh taking Tsukishima’s hand off your back, “Jealous much, Sulkyshima?”. Tsukishima turns away, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”. Following him to the bleachers, “Whatever you say Tenacious Kei.”, wiggling your brows at him. Tsukishima suddenly regrets ever asking you here, especially if you were just going to poke him while he’s down.

Reaching the bleachers you glance down amazed, seeing all of his teammates getting ready for the practice match. Tsukishima fiddles with his hands, “Best seats in the house for my supposed “Good Luck charm”.”. You glance back grinning ear to ear, “Do well Tsukishima!”. Everyone from below you looks up to see Tsukishima ears turning the deepest shade of red. He nods, heading down knowing that his teammates were going to be picking on him as soon as he gets down.

“Do well Tsukishima!”, Kyotani fakes an obnoxious female voice. Tsukishima stops before facing him, “Who’s cheering for you Kyotani?”, he says smirking. Kyotani quiets down, retreating back to his position. Tsukishima looks up at you in the bleachers, watching you admire the whole gymnasium and the decorations that adorn it. Catching him look at you, sending him double peace signs and smiling. He feels his brain short circuit, sending you a discrete peace sign back not wanting to get any further attention. He hears a whistle blow, his brain instantly focuses on the game ahead of him wanting to put on a good show for you.

You watch as Tsukishima shuts down a couple of blocks, some he deflects to bounce off his hand. Scared to cheer but internally screaming for Tsukishima every time he helps score. A timeout gets called and you watch the teams gather together to rework their strategy. You see Tsukishima shocked with how tiny he looks compared to his other teammates. Even though he isn’t the tallest on his team, his shoulders were still pretty wide. You see why he’s a blocker now, you feel yourself start to get flushed. You smack your cheeks, giving yourself no time to get flustered instead focusing on the game below you.

You continue watching the game, excited that it’s now Tsukishima’s turn to serve. He looks at his hand then to you, you flash him a thumbs up with shiny eyes. Taking a deep breath before hitting it over, accomplishing a jump float serve for the first time. You celebrate because even though it’s picked up by the other team, he did it! You guess you really were his good luck charm. The ball gets passed back to Tsukishima again, watching him serve again but with more confidence than last time. In your head screaming one more point, watching as the ball floats over hitting the ground.

Celebrating as Tsukishima looks over to you as you mouth the phrase “good luck charm” and puff out your chest. Tsukishima covers the bottom of his face so you can’t see his small smile. He feels proud at this moment, winning for you, even if it’s just a scrimmage game. Although he wouldn’t admit that he won or prolonged the game just for you specifically, never. The coach calls the team together, congratulating the team who won before dismissing the team. You look at Tsukishima who waves you to come down. Excitedly jumping down the stairs, jumping into Tsukishima.

“That was awesome! You were like BAM! and BOOM! That serve was unlike anything I've ever seen! It looked regular but then it turned at the last minute! You’re awesome Tsukishima!”, Tsukishima backtracks. “Um, I’m not that great! I guess I was just having a good day today.”, you shake your head. Koganegawa and Kyotani appear behind you, clasping their hands together to mimic you and Kei’s stature. Tsukishima pulls away from you, “I can show you how to serve. Maybe not a jump float but something new for a beginner.”, grabbing Tsukishima’s arm quickly. “Let’s go!”

Tsukishima excuses himself to go get a clean ball for you as you see Koganegawa behind you. “Kogane! You were awesome in the scrimmage too! When you spiked the ball down it was so cool!”, Koganegawa laughs, feeling confident. “It’s called a setters dump. I’ve gotten pretty good at it. You can only do it every once in a while though!”, you feel your heart jump in excitement. Fascinated with the world that was volleyball. Tsukishima comes up behind you, tapping your shoulder. You turn to see Tsukishima guide you to the line. “The net looks so far away from here!”, you glance back at Tsukishima. “You got this!”, you hear Koganegawa cheer for you.

You send him a thumbs up feeling a little bit better now that you have an audience. Tsukishima rests his head near your head, placing the ball in your hand, fixing your arm. He slowly talks through the way to throw the ball and when you should hit it but you’re too focused on him being so close and feeling his heartbeat on your shoulder. He suddenly backs away, watching you from the sidelines now. You throw it up, hitting it over, only for it to hit the net. Sulking that you missed, Tsukishima laughs. “It’s your first time, you’d be naive to think you’d be able to hit it over instantly.”, you sneer at him. “Hey! Not naive, I was just optimistic!”, you square up to Tsukishima trying to copy his posture. Kyotani and Koganegawa walk up to you,

“Don’t worry he sulks when he misses too. I’m Kyotani.”, you wave, saying hi and introducing yourself back. “He’s so pessimistic, he needs someone who balances him out. Right Kogane?”, Kogane agrees with Kyotani, focusing on practicing his serves. “Shut up Kyotani. Come on, pass the ball.”, you look at Tsukishima questioning what he’ll do next. “You’re going to pass to me next, miss optimistic.”, smirking as he grabs a ball from Kyotani. You look him right in the eye, “Ok, you’re on. Don’t go easy on me either blondie.”.

“For someone who was so confident, you’re not the best.”, you pout. “I’m not a professional volleyball player, okay?”, Tsukishima notices you’ve both been practicing for a long time. Kyotani and Koganegawa both left, leaving you both in the gym alone. “Want to serve one last time, I’ll guide you through it.”, you nod. Wanting redemption for what was your last sucky serve, you can’t tarnish the Yamaguchi lineage. Tsukishima comes up behind you aligning his body with yours, softly grabbing your hand. Placing the ball in your hand, as he guides you to throwing it. Lifting both of your other hands up to hit it, watching it go over the met with additional strength from Tsukishima. You gasp, feeling victorious.

Looking behind to see Tsukishima smiling down at you. You freeze, feeling your hands become sweaty and your ears ringing. Without hesitation he softly grabs your face, you lean in tired of waiting for him to make the move. Feeling your lips meet, dancing against each other as sweetly as you both did in the kitchen. You smile into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck as he bends down a bit. Kissing as if it was second nature to both of you, feeling comfortable and vulnerable in this moment. The way Tsukishima always felt hanging out with you, vulnerable but yet so comforted in your presence. Not wanting to pull away but slowly losing your breath, you feel him pull away first, wanting to see your face. He looks at your kiss bitten lips, the flush slowly decorating your face and your eyes glossed over with happiness.

When you pull away all you see is reluctance, Tsukishima’s brows are furrowed, his posture is tight, and he can’t meet your eyes. “I have to close up the gym. You should walk home before it gets dark.”, you reach out to Tsukishima but he just pulls away, retreating quickly to the locker room. You stand there for a couple of minutes wondering if he’ll come out but he never does. You pick yourself up and walk home, wondering what happened in that millisecond of you kissing and backing away. Did he want to keep going, did he not want to kiss you, did you misread his actions? You spiral all the way home, texting him as soon as you get home. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong Kei?”

Tsukishima was still standing in the locker room when he got your text, he watched you leave the gym. He couldn’t help but think that this all got the best of him. He’s going behind his longest friend's back, kissing his little sister. What was he thinking? Yes, he believes you should date anyone you want by why him? Him out of everyone? He knew he messed up when your text had no personal touch to it, at first he thought he misread the ID. Hesitant to answer, scared of betraying Yamaguchi any further but also scared that he’ll hurt your feelings even more.

Yamaguchi was dear to him, Yamaguchi was the one to always snap him out of whatever mental issues he was going through, he shouldn’t pursue this further. He shouldn’t betray the only one who knows the best and worst of him. However, when he thought of you nothing even held a candle to you. Nothing was dearer than you, you supported him, comforted him, made all his faults sound positive. How could he just break your trust like that, he might have been an asshole in high school but he will not allow that to happen again. He won’t let you see that side of him, you don’t deserve it.

Feeling a vibration on your bed you look to your phone, seeing a notification pop up. “I’m fine, I just need to get something off my chest. Tomorrow, can we talk?”, you let out a sigh. Relieved that he even texted you back, “Sure but don’t scare me like that again Tsukishima! (•̀⤙•́ )”. He texts you his address, knowing that Yamaguchi won’t be home till later since he didn’t have a day off. You go to sleep feeling lighter than you did earlier. Curious as to what was going on in Tsukishima’s head. While Tsukishima was charting up all the possibilities to break his problems to you politely as he could.

Knocking on Tsukishima’s door, biting at your lips in nervousness. You watch him open the door as you take in his appearance. His hair is all out of order,, the bags under his eyes are more prominent than ever, and he’s still in his pajamas. Your heart crumbles at the sight, wanting to relieve him of whatever troubles he was having but scared to push him. He welcomes you in and you see Tadashi’s shoes and clothes misplaced everywhere. “Why do you have so much of Tadashi’s clothes?”, you side eye him. Was he cheating on your brother with you? Is that why he pulled away! Oh god this is why he pulled away! “Are you together with Tadashi?”, Tsukishima’s eyes widen looking over at you. “What? No! What are you even saying?”, you still remain stiff not believing him. “We’re just roommates. Did your brother not tell you that he lives with someone?”, you relax just a bit. Sure, they 're just “roommates”, they’re always just roommates. “Show me his room then if you’re just “roommates” then.”. Tsukishima rolls his eyes, walking you to his room, where you walk in and see no signs of your existence, did he really want to hide you that badly.

Tsukishima sees your eyes start watering, following your eyes to see you glancing at all the pictures above his desk. None featuring you or your family, you make a mental note to ask him about that later and reprimand him in the future. Turning to Tsukishima, “Okay, I believe you for now. Next, tell me what’s on your mind because you look awful.”, paying back to him his blunt comments. “I’d prefer we don’t speak in Tadashi’s room. Seems a bit odd.”, you look around nodding. Not wanting to think about your brother at this moment, following Tsukishima to his room. Sitting next to him on his bed while he gathers all the words he rehearsed all night, fiddling with his fingers. You watch as he trips over his words the first couple of times and decide to comfort him. “Tsukishima, you won’t hurt my feelings no matter what you say. You’re my friend no matter what, I’ll harbor no hard feelings. I just want you to be truthful with me, okay?”, you see him nod.

Giving him the confidence to start living outside his mind and speak up, “I don’t regret kissing you yesterday. I regret what’s going to happen after though.”, you look at him intensely. Waiting for him to finish, knowing he’s done with his talk when he stops playing with his fingers. “I thought about it and I like you as more than a friend, I like being with you. However, when we first met Tadashi told me not to go anywhere near you, something about you being off limits.”, you feel your eye twitch. Your brother proclaimed you were off limits while he hid you like the plague. If Tsukishima wasn’t being so vulnerable right now you would’ve raced to him and scolded him. Opting to instead take a deep breath and hold all your comments for the last minute. “I’m nervous that if I get with you, I’ll be giving up my friendship with Yamaguchi.”, he stops playing with his fingers, giving you the okay to talk.

“I appreciate you being so considerate of my brother’s opinion but I’m my own person. Tadashi doesn’t own me, he can’t decide who I like and don’t. I like you too, Kei. I understand though if you don’t want to go through with this relationship if you’re sacrificing a piece of you. I’ve waited for this long, I can wait longer for someone as perfect as you Kei.”, you kiss his cheek getting up for his bed. “Let me know when you’re ready, Kei.”, you start walking to the entrance looking back at him. He nods, glad you’re giving him time to thoroughly think his decision through. He hears the door click, still feeling your lips on his cheek. He goes to lock the door and sit on the couch in silence, letting the clock pass by. Waiting for Yamaguchi to come home, as he contemplates every possible decision in his head. The good outcomes, the bad outcomes, and even the extreme ones, letting them all occupy every corner of his brain.

He hears the door click, “Tsukki, I’m home!”. Yamaguchi turns on the light, jolting when he sees Tsukishima on the couch. “What are you doing? Is this how you spend your days off?”, Tsukishima slowly looks up to where Yamaguchi is. Instead of being overtaken by nerves instead tired, tired of waiting, tired of hiding, and tired of not having you by him. “I like your sister.”, Yamaguchi laughs, waving off Tsukishima’s absurd comment. “Tsukki, did you not sleep today? You met my sister for a second a couple of months ago?”, Tsukishima gets up. Walking to Yamaguchi slowly, “Your sister and I have been seeing each other for those couple of months, secretly going on dates.”. Yamaguchi looks around before meeting Tsukishima’s eyes, “Tsukki, are you sure you're okay? My sister hasn’t mentioned you once?”.

Tsukishima nods, “I wanted to keep it a secret knowing that you said she was off limits. I came to terms the other day that I liked her, I don’t want to hide it anymore.”. Yamaguchi brows furrow because suddenly it all makes sense, from Tsukki staying out late to you ignoring his lunch dates, and the final straw the shortcake. Yamaguchi fastly paces to his bag, grabbing his phone and dialing your number. “Hello Tadashi, What’s up?”, Yamaguchi hands the phone to Tsukishima angrily. “I told him.”, you freeze hearing Kei’s voice over the phone. “Is it true? No, scratch that, why hide it from me?”, you scoff. “The same reason you hid me from your friends, Tadashi. Look, I’m at a cafe near your apartment, I’ll head over right now. Tadashi don’t do anything stupid, please.”, you hang up.

To be honest, Yamaguchi wasn’t upset at the fact you both liked each other more at the fact you both hid everything from him, did everything behind his back. Yamaguchi sits on the couch angrily tapping his feet, awaiting you to arrive. He hears a knock on his door, watching Tsukishima open the door. You smile at Tsukishima, knowing it must’ve taken a lot out of him to tell your brother. “Get in here, now.”, your brother ruins the moment as per usual. Not letting him take hold of the conversation in anger, “Stop, first I want you to calm down.”, Yamaguchi looks over at you frustratedly. “Calm down, you're seeing my best friend and hiding it from me!”, you shake your head. “I didn’t mean to go out with Tsukishima on purpose, okay? My co-worker is Akiteru, when I accepted the date I didn't know they were brothers. It was just a simple fortunate event!”. Tsukishima sees you rambling but he’s never seen you rambling quite like this, this rambling is more like the nervous kind.

Yamaguchi suddenly points at him, snapping him out of his analysis of your unseen behavior. “Speaking of Akiteru, you! You don’t see me sneaking off with your brother! Don’t you hold any form of shame?”, Tsukishima clears his throat. “I wouldn’t mind if you got with my brother because that would be my brother’s decision not mine.”, Tsukishima glances back at you. You feel your breath ease, knowing exactly what Tsukishima is hinting at. “He’s right, it’s my decision. I like Tsukishima and I want you to support me and him, together.”, Yamaguchi glares at you, reluctant to let you and Tsukki get off so easily. “You’re right, I shouldn't hold a grudge against you, you’re a grown woman. You, however, Tsukki apologize to me. This is not very best friend-like behavior.”, you scoff at Tadashi's childish behavior. “Tadashi, stop it.”, you wave away Tadashi knowing he’s just grasping at straws.

“I’m sorry Yamaguchi.”, you and Yams both look at each other than look at Tsukishima, frozen. “You’re right I should’ve told you. I was scared to lose you as a friend.”, Tadashi trips over his words before you stop him knowing Tsukishima wasn’t done talking yet. Tadashi stands there surprised that you know Tsukishima’s body language despite only knowing each other for a couple of months. “More importantly I wanted my relationship to grow with your sister first before I told you anything, I’m sorry for that.”, Tsukishima looks at you. Hoping that you see that you’ve changed his mindset a bit. Yes, he’s tenacious but he’s also pessimistic and not one to admit he’s in the wrong. With you though, he thinks he can improve those parts of himself.

“I’m asking you as my best friend, if you could support us?”, Tsukishima grabs your hand, linking it together with his. As you stumble a bit at the sudden touch but quickly recover and stand up straight. Tadashi looks at you both, nodding. “Okay but you have to name your first born Tadashi.”, you go to hug him, choosing to ignore his comment. “Can I meet the rest of your friends, properly. Start letting people know you have a sister jerk! I’m off the market now, you know so you don’t have to worry!”, Tsukishima rolls his eyes thinking how dorky you sound. You pull back to go by Tsukishima’s side. “So, you apologize now Mr. Tenacious?”, Yamaguchi looks around awkwardly. “I’m heading to my room, don’t be gross!”, you roll your eyes. “I don’t apologize for just anyone, you know.”, you laugh. “Oh, so I should feel extra special since you apologized just to be with me?”, Tsukishima smiles. “Yeah something like that.”, pulling you to him. Kissing him felt even better than last time, he felt free not being held back by secrets or thoughts, overwhelmed by the senses of you.

“Hurry up Kei, we’re already the last ones there!”, Tsukishima rolls his eyes. Not really excited to meet up with his old friends, knowing they’ll just embarrass him. Grabbing his hand and dragging him to the restaurant, “Do you think anything new has happened with Hinata and Kags?”. Tsukishima lets out a breath, “From joining the olympic team, I don’t think so? They just have more of a reason to lose more brain cells over volleyball.”. You smile, “You have to be nice, Stingyshima.”. Tsukishima looks at you in disbelief, “Not you too. See, this is why I was reluctant to meet them. You’re going to start with the name calling.”, you kiss his cheek. “At least I mean it in a loving way, now stop sulking and let’s have some fun.”

Tsukishima and you enter, being greeted by your brother and Yachi first, then making your way to Hinata and Kageyama. Watching as Kageyama and Tsukishima have a weird stare off, Hinata and you laugh at how awkward the two could be. “Hinata, have you learned any new tricks?”, you glare at him excitedly. “Oh nothing too new, Kageyama and I just have to rework our quick but that’ll come naturally.”, you smile excited to see the two work together again.

Tsukishima sits next to you, grabbing your hand under the table. “Don’t worry, these freaks will have their quick down easily. It’s like second nature to them.”, Tsukishima adds slyly. Riling up the pair, “Damn it, Tsukishima.”, Hinata adds. You squeeze Kei’s hand letting him know to cut it out. To which he deflates, knowing he got caught. “What about you Yachi? Design anything new lately?”, she nods. “I designed a new ad to help support the Sendai Frogs actually.”, she pulls out her phone showing the picture to everyone. “Wow, Yachi, this is great!”, you look over the poster and see how it highlights everyone on the team.

“Your teammates look great on this Kei.”, you feel him glare at you. “You’re giving them too much credit.”, you smile. “Yachi, we should talk to our management and maybe get you to design something for the olympic team!”, you fall back watching the conversation flow. Your brother was grateful to have such good friends and you were grateful to now be a part of their group too. Taking a look around, feeling comfort in the conversation, Tsukishima lays his head on your shoulder. The conversation falls silent, “Has Tsukki gone soft?”, Tsukishima looks over. “Shut up Yamaguchi.”

divider credit to @/saradika-graphics, @/thecutestgrotto, @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @/princessantisocial

taglist: @0tsukie

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: happy (late) birthday to my pookie pie! i’m kind of on the fence with how this turned out but i’m a tsukishima girly like nothing is ever perfect, okay? ty for reading!! ♡

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyu #hq #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #anime x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukki

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bet-on-me-13 · 2 years ago

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Danny runs for Mayor P.2

kgned3Part 1

Some more snippets of the Gotham Mayor Danny AU!

...

Danny would absolutely try to hire some of the Rouges as his Mayoral Cabinet, I can just imagine Waylon Jones, the Killer Croc, in a Suit and Slacks sitting in a the Mayors Office while awkwardly holding his resume.

Danny: So, Mr. Jones, why do you think we should hire you? Waylon: Well sir, I have something of a reputation and I feel like I would be an amazing Bodyguard. Danny: OK, one question though. What is your opinion on Clowns? Waylon: I don’t like them. Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, Mr Nygma, what do you think you would bring to my office? Edward: Well sir, I am fairly well known for my expert planning and timing skills. Also I can give you fun riddles whenever you want! Danny: Hmmm, that’s definitely a good point. One question, if needed, will you attack a clown on sight? Edward: Yes? Danny: Hired!

...

Danny: Now, I can see that you used to have a very reputable resume Mr. Dent. Harvey: Thank you sir. Danny: I can’t see any reason to refuse your application, but I do have one question. Do you like Clowns? Harvey: Uhm...yes? Danny: I am sorry dir, but I am going to have to reject your application for a job in the Mayors office. Mr Jones, please escort this man out

...

Danny would absolutely do an amazing job in decreasing the crime rate, just by virtue of the fact that his very presence is destabilizing the Curses put on the City.

But at the same time, his policies are also very efficient, based on Gen Z Humor/Ideas

Danny: As my new Law states, every year the most rich person in the City will be forced to give up 70% of their assets to Charity. You can avoid this by donating as much as possible in the weeks leading up to the Sacrifice Day, whoever donates the most is exempt from the choosing even if they are the Richest, we will then move on to the second Richest, and so on Reporter: Sir, isn’t this just the “Winner Of Capitalisms” Prompt from Tumblr? Danny: Yes.

...

Batman: Why did you just pass a Law that states that all Vigilantes are given the right to kill? Danny: Because I accidentally hired every villain in Gotham, so now there is nobody to try and bribe me. And if nobody tries to bribe me, then nobody realizes that I will only accept bribes if the Joker is dead, like I said in my Campaign. I know that you guys have a no-kill rule, but I know at least one of you who would jump at the chance Batman: *realizes that Dick has already killed the Joker once, Jason is actively attempting to every day, Tim is chaos incarnate and would do it to feel included, and Damian just really wants to let loose* Well played...

...

Danny: Vlad, I am serious. Leave me alone or I will put you in Soup Jail for 3 months! Vlad: FINE! I’ll just go possess another Billionaire to force them to give me their company again Batman, listening from outside the window: What the f-

...

Danny in every conversation with the Batfamily: I re-respect your decision to not tak-take a life...but I must insist you kill the Joker...for the good of the peephol-People! He is not a good inf-influence on this city and he must be des...troyed. Batman: *Wondering why he sounds like he is reading from a script* Um, I don’t think thats a good idea? Lady Gotham: *Standing behind Batman with some Cue Cards, trying to communicate with her Knights through Danny* *Thumbs Up* Danny: Also I wanted to say that you need to- oh um, ok- to get over the deaths of your parents and grieve in a healthy way instead of adopting every child you see. You are doing a great job kid, parentheses, do not read this par- Oh-Oops. Batman: Hm. I’m not even going to question that anymore.

...

Tag List:

@skulld3mort-1fan @kgne-k @deatlive @alcorbearson @we-ezer @auralykos @dakkapel @alinmenttreasure @lord-of-0blivion @countessdragon @naluforever3 @fylylowo @shadow-otaku20 @dannyphantomphan @heirxofxtime @ourrechte-blog @fantasticbluebirdfan @imnotgrimmjustagrumpyreader @mssagoberattare @elvesandlanterns @space-dreams-world @lizz-blizt @stargirl1331 @totallysmores-blog @screamingtofillthevoid @malice-of-the-sunrise @olivethetreebitch @addie-lover-of-stories @thatonegaybitch68 @asphyxia778 @top7879 @biance-hooks123 @runfromthemedic @dionysuss-big-naturals @the-legal-shipper @icepopstar5105us @

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cornsoupflavour · 4 months ago

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Trip to Paradise (Krystal Jung NSFW Smut)

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

Requested, Story Beats, Story Plot by: @sunshinesmoonshines

f(x) Krystal Jung x Male Reader

Tags: 7.0k words, multiple creampies, public sex, risky sex, mentions of breeding/impreg, heavy romance

The life of a K–Pop idol is stressful, and there are times where idols would take a step back from the limelight to enjoy a little solitude away from it all. Krystal Jung, from f(x) is one such idol. The pressure to perform and pop out gradually got to her and she decided that now would be a good time to go on a hiatus and take a vacation to help ease her body and mind. Krystal was looking for more than just a holiday, however. She was on a little search for love.

Krystal had decided to take a one–month holiday in the gorgeous city of Venice, Italy. She wanted to experience its exquisite beauty, history and especially, its romance. As the days went on, she found herself slowly falling more and more in love with the city. She was checked into an authentic, Italian bed and breakfast situated near the Grand Canal. The sound of creaking of wood and the warm, flickering candlelight added to its ambiance. The whole atmosphere put her at ease instantaneously.

On her first day there, Krystal visited St. Mark's Square. The vast expanse of its piazza, dotted with cafes, tourists and even pigeons captured her heart instantly. The architecture of St. Mark's Basilica and the towering Campanile exuded a feeling of luxury. She was impressed. But it was the charm of daily life that truly captivated her. A street musician playing a moving serenade caught her attention. She stood before him for a moment, watching as he coaxed sweet melodies from his violin. She wondered if she should sample that for a song.

As the sun began to set, it casted an orange glow over the city. Krystal found herself wandering along the narrow and cobblestone streets, crossing over countless bridges that arched over the iconic winding canals. She couldn't help but feel captivated by the gondolas smoothly gliding by, their gondoliers gracing her ears with soulful Italian songs.

On one of the bridges, she saw a group of young locals. They were laughing and flirting with each other. A young man from the group noticed Krystal staring. He smiled at her, revealing dimples that pierced his cheeks. He gave her a small wave, making her flustered. She returned the gesture shyly before moving on.

She felt a slight ache in her heart, sad that she hasn't been able to truly experience the wonders of being with someone due to her job as an idol. But then again, this was the trip to attempt something like that. She carried on walking for a while before deciding she should head back to the BnB.

As she arrived at the door to the BnB, she bumped into you. Her ears perked up slightly as she took in the full sight of you. You did the same, a little taken aback by her beauty.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?" you asked, lightly holding her still.

"Yeah, I'm fine... I'm sorry, are you another guest here? I don't think I've seen you..." she asked, her eyes checking you out slightly. Krystal had already met all the other guests who were staying at the BnB, the one other guest that isn't you.

"Oh, uhh, no. I'm actually the owner's son." You replied, a warm smile forming on your lips. You raised a hand out as you both introduced yourself to one another. "Oh wow, you're from Korea? You must be a model or something, you're beautiful!"

The light flirt sent a red blush to creep up Krystal's cheeks. "Oh, stop it, you~" she playfully waved her hand. The dim lighting of the BnB entrance casted an inviting warmth on both your faces.

"No, really, you're a natural beauty," you said genuinely, your lips curving up into a cheeky smile. Krystal felt a surge of happiness hearing the sincerity in your voice. "But it's getting dark, please come in. I hope I'm not making you late for anything."

"Oh, no, no... You're not. But I do think I should head back to my room..." her voice trailed off a little.

"How about you show me around town tomorrow? It'll be nice having a tour guide for myself~"

"Oh? A–Alright then, I'll see you back here in the morning. Have a great rest." The two of you parted ways, both sporting a wide and warm smile on your lips. You knew the type of business your father runs would definitely attract some attractive individuals... but one as astronomically beautiful as she is? Feels like a dream.

As the night went on, the both of you felt a slight buzz. It was like you couldn't wait to see each other again despite the short interaction. You managed to put your excited selves to sleep. The next morning, you eagerly awaited Krystal at the lobby of the BnB. You stared in awe as she descended the stairs from the top floor in a form–fitting grey sleeveless dress.

"So, shall we?"

You took a moment to check her out, taking in the full sight of her glowing allure. "Y–Yeah, let's go... Wow, you are just– stunning–"

"Thank you," Krystal replied with a grateful smile.

Your sentences struggled to come out as you battled the many thoughts in your head. You managed to snap out of it a few moments later, and ushered her over to your car. Luckily for you, there won't be any check–ins scheduled for the day, so you are free to spend it with this heaven–sent individual.

Krystal sauntered over as you held the door open for her. In a slightly seductive yet graceful movement, she ducked in, taking a seat beside yours in the car. "I must say, owning a BnB in such a beautiful place... must be a dream come true."

You chuckled softly, as you rounded the car to get to the driver's seat. You inserted the key into the ignition. "Yeah, it's wonderful. I don't usually work here since my dad runs the place. But when I do cover for him, it feels like it could be my dream job."

Krystal chuckled, leaning back against the seat. "I can see why you'd enjoy this job. The BnB, the city, the people... it's all just so breathtaking."

You chose to bring her to the Peggy Guggenheim Collection to admire the beauty of Italian art before bringing her around to savour the rich flavours of Italian cuisine in hidden trattorias, allowing her to lose herself in the quieter corners of the city.

"Wow..." she gasped as she gazed upon the artworks.

You were pleased to watch her take in the art with the same fascination you have. You both wind up standing in front of a large piece, both of you unable to speak for a moment.

Krystal bites her lower lip, eyes still fixated on the painting. "It's... It's different. Not something I've seen before. But I like it..."

The two of you continued to gaze at the works before taking an adventure through the winding alleyways to let her have a taste of the most authentic of Italian cuisines. However, you made sure to hold off from some of the tastier stores to ensure she'd still have more to try later on during her trip.

Over the next two weeks or so, Krystal explored every nook and cranny that Venice has to offer with your guidance. You both went from strolling down the Rialto Bridge to indulging in gelato in the quaint Campo San Polo. You even spent long afternoons lounging in the lush gardens of Giardini Pubblici as you watched the sunset together from the quiet vantage points of Dorsuduro.

You two would go on long–winding yet engaging conversations about your daily lives. Krystal held off from speaking about her experience as a K–Pop idol as she felt a genuine connection forming between the two of you. That revelation may have brought about a positive or negative reaction, but she wasn't willing to take that risk... It was hard not to though, as she felt herself falling for you... hard.

You were falling hard too. In between those conversations, you'd find yourselves lost in each other's eyes, the chemistry between you palpable. Sometimes your fingers would touch, and you'd imagine yourself stealing brief kisses under the veil of twilight. But most often, you'd simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the company of someone who wasn't just beautiful on the outside but also within.

After spending two weeks together, the both of you enjoyed each other's presence despite just touring the city with each other. The odd familiarity and comfort you both shared had grown, and you both secretly yearned for more.

Krystal bit her tongue as she waited for you to take the initiative as you did the same. Eventually, she couldn't take it. She called your phone, asking if you'd be down to visit her in her room for some games to alleviate her boredom. Little did you know, she had something else planned.

"Krystal? Hey– I– Yeah, I'd love that actually. I'll be there in a bit."

You grabbed your things and made your way over, waving to your dad on the way in. The man sat behind the counter and smiled warmly, enjoying his peace while there wasn't the issue of guests checking in.

Arriving at her room, you knocked gently on the door. Krystal opened it, welcoming you with the sight of her in a comfortable outfit of a white tank top and some pink pants. Her hair cascaded in loose, free–flowing waves. The sight took you by surprise, such a casual set of clothes and yet she still is breathtakingly gorgeous.

"Hey, please, come in," Krystal greeted with an inviting smile.

You stepped inside, your eyes momentarily roaming her figure. You weren't as subtle as you wanted to be as Krystal caught wind of that. You looked around the room as you waited for her. "Thanks for inviting me, I'll leave the game choice up to you."

"Oh, I've got something in mind. Stay right here while I get everything ready," Krystal replied, guiding you to the couch.

As you sat down, you could hear some rustling and searching happening behind you. "Hey, do you need any help?" You offered. You were met with a reassuring no. After a while, Krystal placed a deck of cards on the coffee table, along with a pair of wine glasses and a bottle of red wine.

She sat down next to you, your thighs brushing against hers gently. Krystal picked up the deck of cards. "Ever played strip poker?"

A smile tugged at your lips, and your heart raced. "S–Strip poker? Not exactly... but I'm down to give it a try," you replied, glazing at her with a slight hint of lust in your eyes.

Krystal bit her lower lip, a playful shine washing over her eyes. "Alrighty then, strip poker's one main rule is that the loser has to take off one piece of clothing. Fair?"

"Sounds good to me."

With a smile she began shuffling the cards before handing them to you to do the same. Krystal dealt them out, and you both set about plalying. The game was intense, the suspense ran rampant as card after card fell, revealing the fates of your pieces of clothing. The hours passed quickly, and the room grew warmer as you both shed more layers. Krystal's tank top clung to her curves as you sat across from her in just your boxers. The wine wasn't helping either, making you both tipsy.

"Looks like you're the current loser~" Krystal teased, her eyes lingering on your chest.

With a devious and slightly inebriated grin, you reached over and pulled her tank top off, revealing her supple A–Cup breasts partially concealed by a black lace bra. Krystal's breath hitched and her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

What you did finally clicked in your mind as you stood there, mouth agape and completely shocked at what you'd just done. Eyes wide, you stared at her, unable to move or do anything else.

The game paused, with both of you locked in each other's gaze, the air was thick with an unspoken desire. A few moments later, she leaned in, her lips hovering above yours as she whispered, "I think you've made your intentions pretty clear... and I can't say I don't feel the same way... Let's just end the game here."

You nodded, a trembling exhale escaped both your lips, and finally the two of you surrendered yourselves to the passion. She stood up, and sauntered over to you, straddling your lap with a swaying motion. She claimed your lips in a fiery kiss as your hands traveled each other's bodies, yearning for the touch you've both been craving for weeks.

Your hands continued to explore each other's bodies. Her soft breasts fit so perfectly into your hand as you kneaded them. You shifted your position a little, allowing you to pay special attention to her midriff, kissing and nibbling at every inch of her skin. Krystal shivered under your touch, her moans growing louder.

"Mmmh, aahh~ Y/N, that..." she gasped, her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

You slid down her body, your mouth watering to taste her. You began with small kisses near her belly button before slowly parting her legs. Her soft moans filled the room as you started to pleasure her with your tongue. You prodded and licked her pussy with your tongue, letting your taste buds take in the flavour of her honeyed core.

Krystal's body arched as she let out a guttural moan. "Mmmm, Y/N... you feel– you're doing so fucking well..."

Two of your fingers joined your tongue, teasing her, and bringing her ever closer to the edge. Krystal's body tensed, you could see her eyes screwed shut, her hand gripping the sides of your head. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck yes... don't you dare stop..."

You gave her insides a few more licks before withdrawing your mouth from her. She looked at you with a mixture of lust, desperation and slight frustration. Her eyes begged for you to continue. You grinned, leaving a trail of kisses along her inner thighs, all the way up to her soft and sweet lips. "Hold on, we're just getting started~" you whispered into her ear.

A smug smirk appeared on her lips as her body relaxed slightly, returning your kisses as you repositioned her onto her back. Her legs draped over your shoulders as you two settled in the missionary position. Your lips connected in a passionate and sloppy kiss as she began to reach her arm out towards the dresser.

"Wait, Y/N."

"Mmmh– yeah?" You pulled away momentarily to see she'd pulled out a condom packet.

"I know we both want it as raw as possible... and I really want you to just knock me up, but since it's our first time, let's use these."

"Oh shit, yeah– of course."

Fearing she ruined the momentum, she brought her lips to yours once more as she tore out one of the condoms. Her hands were soft and gentle as she reached in between your sweaty bodies to sheath your member with the rubber.

Before long, it was on and you were both set to begin deeper exploration of one another. Her eyes gazed into yours, never leaving yours as you slowly entered her. Krystal's eyes widened, and she let out a soft gasp.

You moved at a steady pace, your thrusts syncing with the deepening of your kisses. Krystal wrapped her arms around your neck, her legs coiling themselves around your waist, encouraging you to go harder, faster, and deeper.

"That's it– Fuck me, Y/N– Harder~" Krystal panted.

You obliged, ramming your hips into her at an even quicker pace, your tip slamming against something inside her. She wasn't calling for a stop so that must mean she's loving it. Her eyes rolled back into her head with every thrust.

Her moans grew louder as you felt her tightening around your shaft. You bit your lip as you began to feel yourself struggle with holding back. After a while, you felt Krystal was ready for a little change. With your cock still buried in her depths, you helped her move onto her hands and knees as you slammed into her in the cowgirl position. You graced her tight ass with a myriad of slaps, leaving a red patch on her cheeks.

She began throwing it back towards you, and before long, she overpowered you. She adjusted herself to ride you, reverse cowgirl style. You laid on your back as she rode you to kingdom come. She leaned forward as she threw her head back, her breasts swayed with every movement.

"NNGH– THAT'S IT– FUCK ME–" Krystal urged, her voice raspy with desire.

You leaned upwards a little and reached around her. Your hands grasped onto her perky tits and began fondling them. You pinched her nipples and rolled them between your fingers. Krystal's moans became louder and you could feel her walls tightening around you, signaling she was close to climax.

She leaned all the way back, her hands rose to her tits as she squeezed them hard. "FUCK, YESSS~!" she screamed as she came hard, coating your cock in her juices. You continued to thrust into her as she shivered and gasped.

"God fucking damn– Krystal– you're so fucking sexy... I... I love your ass–" you groaned as you squeezed her ass cheeks hard.

Her cheeks flushed with pleasure as she chuckled, "Y/N– I think from now on– I'm all yours– Just fuck me till we're both screaming each other's names~"

You complied, your thrusts becoming faster, harder, and stronger to match her words. You could feel yourself bottoming her out. Krystal eventually flopped forward onto her elbows, her pussy still impaled on your member. You could tell you were both frustrated from the presence of the condom but it had to stay on for safety.

The both of you paused for a brief moment before you helped her move back into doggystyle. You began plunging yourself into her once more, her back arching towards the bed. "God– Just like that, Y/N– You're making me feel so good~"

You could feel it, the sensation building within you. You could feel it building within her too, her walls clenching once more. You gritted your teeth as you did your best to hold back, but the sound of her sultry moans and the sight of her cute ass got the better of you. You were about to explode as she screamed out in pure ecstasy.

"YES– YES– FUCK, I'M CUMMINGG~!" her body shuddered with delight as her arms stretched out. You let out a loud grunt as you began your climax, your thrusts turning erratic and fast. As you pulled out, you flipped Krystal onto her back. She laid there, seductively, her sweaty body splayed out.

"Let me just–" she reached down and peeled the condom off your throbbing member. You stroked your shaft desperately as you brought your fingers to her pussy. Your thumb pressed against her clit while her fingers slid into her at a quickened pace. Krystal's body tensed again, her moans echoed in the room.

She returned the favour, wrapping her delicate fingers around your cock and jerked you off in a cockscrew motion. "That's it– Don't stop, Y/N– You're getting me so close again–" she whimpered. You could sense her orgasm arriving as yours did as well.

You both shared a knowing look as she pulled your face down for a romantic kiss. "Finish on my tits–" she ordered. You obliged, aligning yourself perfectly so that both of you could climax at the same time. You backed away slightly as she spread her legs out and moaned out your name.

It wasn't long before you both let out guttural moans as your orgasms peaked. Krystal drew your eyes to her tits and cleavage, giving you a place to aim your cock at. A moment later, her chest became covered as you shot ropes all over her pretty little tits. Your fingers were clamped in her pussy as she began squirting hard.

After a while, your movements slowed and you slumped onto the floor, leaving her spread out on the couch. You brought your fingers up to your mouth, they glistened with her bodily juices. You stuck them into your mouth as you tasted her nectar.

As you peered up towards her, you could see her eyes were full of lust. Both of you were slick with sweat, your chests heaving. "Holy fuck– Y/N... You– You're incredible..."

"You were too... I don't think I've ever had sex that good–"

You both giggled, your hearts pounding, your breaths catching as you slowly recovered from the ethereal sexual encounter. Slowly, you both rose to your feet and cleaned up. Afterwards, the two of you slumped back onto the couch and embraced each other tightly. You both snuggled, sharing small and sweet kisses.

"Thank you, for tonight... It's been rough finding love like this in Korea."

"No, thank YOU for inviting me over tonight. But why's that? I'm sure there are plenty of amazing Korean men."

Krystal paused for a while, her face a little uneasy. "Hey, if you aren't comfortable with sharing, you don't have to."

"No, it's not that... it's just..."

You stayed silent, letting her have the floor.

"...I'm actually an idol... and usually it's taboo for us to partake in these kinds of relationships..."

You acknowledged her revelation, bringing her hand up to your lips to kiss it in hopes it'd help make her feel safer.

"Like those K–Pop people– the artists?"

She nodded, a small smile appearing on her lips as you kissed her ever so gently.

"Ah, I see... and you can't find love in Korea because it may negatively affect your career, got it... Well, I will say, you've come to the right place. And seeing as we've just had the most amazing sex ever, I'd love to be that little taboo lover of yours~"

Krystal couldn't help but giggle at your proposal. The genuine smile that appeared on her face spoke volumes of how much she appreciated the sentiment. You shared a loving kiss as the both of you basked in the warmth of your embrace.

The two of you continued to spend time together all throughout the night. In the morning, you made the hard decision of heading back home, Krystal playfully pouting and fluttering her eyelids. You gave her a long and loving kiss on the lips before heading out. On the way down you bumped into your father. The both of you shared a knowing look and he ensured you that the rooms were soundproof. You kept that tidbit of information in mind for the future.

And as the next few weeks went by, you shared romantic dinners to late night strolls. You both soaked up every moment, cherishing the opportunity to be together. One such opportunity was a carnival date. It was an example of your carefree bonding, and you both thought you'd spice things up a little with a challenge.

Krystal's eyes sparkled as she led you around the various attractions, her fingers intertwined with yours. "Let's play some games, Y/N. You seem like you'd be good at winning prizes."

Krystal, dressed in a grey top with a pair of sunglasses hanging from its neckline, Adidas shorts, a denim jacket, and her gorgeous brown hair down in slightly messy but still–kept waves. She was the other party in the proposed challenge. As you both go through the challenges, you emerge victorious, a mischievous grin formed on your lips.

"Well, looks like I won~ And as a reward, I want you to treat us to some ice cream and refreshments. How's that sound?"

Krystal rolled her eyes, playfully shaking her head, but relenting nonetheless. Soon, she returned with two cups of ice cream, two bottles of water and a bag of chips. "Here you go, your Highness. Please, enjoy your spoils," she said sarcastically as she handed you one of the ice creams and a bottle of water. The two of you giggled before setting off in search of a private spot to enjoy your treats.

You led her to the perfect secluded bench. Rich greenery offered the both of you privacy as you sat down. Your eyes glistened a little as you watched her get settled onto the bench, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

As you both got situated on the bench, Krystal turned to you and whispered into your ear. "So, what do you think of all this? I mean– like we both OBVIOUSLY like each other, and y'know... there's definitely something special between us... I know you said you wanted to be my little taboo secret but... shall we make it official?"

"I think we should. Or at least we should try and make it work," you responded, your voice hushed yet firm. "I promise we'll figure it all out. Besides, if things go south, you could come and stay here with me~"

Krystal chuckled as she playfully smacked your arm. She placed a sweet and lingering kiss before pulling away. "Oh yeah, you wish, right?"

You wrapped your arm around her as you both cuddled on the bench. Krystal couldn't help but blush as she felt your arm around her waist, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. Her surprise was evident when you began to caress her thigh. She allowed herself to let go, indulging in the moment. As your hand slipped beneath her shorts, she gasped softly, only to stifle her moan with her hand while you fingered her.

Krystal let out more soft moans as your lips continued to meet hers. The PDA intensified with each movement. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried biting her lips to suppress the growing moans. She could feel herself surrendering to you under your touch.

Your fingers moved with skill and expertise as your mouth met her breasts. She raised her denim jacket to conceal the inappropriate act as her hips began to rock against your fingers, pushing them even deeper. She felt more alive than ever, the illicitness of the act... on a public bench in the middle of the day... she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins.

It wasn't long till her body spasmed, cumming from the sheer pleasure you brought her. But as she came down from her high, she looked dazed. She urged you to find a more hidden spot and you decided to lead her to the men's bathroom. She stood up and straightened herself out, her eyes lingering on the bulge in your pants. A devilish grin crossed her face as she sneakily entered the men's restroom with you.

The both of you shambled into a stall, your lips unable to leave the other. Inside the stall, you began to undress her, leaving her completely exposed except for ther shoes. She obediently lifted her, granting you easier access to her slit. You began pleasuring her again, this time with a combination of your mouth and fingers. The stall's soundproofing against the bustling restroom allowed her to surrender fully to the pleasure.

Krystal's moans grew in intensity, her legs quivered as you inserted a third finger. Every time you plunged your digits into her, her body reacted. The wet squelching sounds echoed within the stall. As the restroom grew busier, she tried her best to suppress her moans. Each time someone would knock on the stall door, she'd give subtle knocks back.

Seeing how ready she was, you removed your own clothes. You placed them on top of the toilet basin with hers. You positioned yourself in between her legs, one lifted over your shoulder and the other steady on the ground. You shared a look of anticipation and slight anxiety.

"This is gonna be the first time I've done it raw... Give it to me good, alright?"

"Yes ma'am~" you responded before pushing your lips onto hers. As you were both engaged in a sloppy kiss, you plunged your throbbing member into her wet entrance. The raw feeling of her insides made your legs tremble. You wanted to cum at that very moment, but you wanted to at least give her some pleasure.

You began thrusting at a desperate pace. The both of you moaned out each other's names as you felt your tip slamming against her insides. You exchanged saliva as her moans entered your ears like a harmonious tune. Krystal began to shiver and gasp as she climaxed, her juices spraying out onto the stall wall.

You couldn't help but reach down and play with her clit, licking your fingers once in a while to get her taste.

Switching positions, Krystal straddled you on the toilet seat, moving in sync with your body. Your hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer as she started to grind herself against you with a familiar desperation. You matched her rhythm, your hips leaving the seat occasionally.

"Aahh, Y/N, I'm..." she moaned softly, her voice tinged with lust.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she continued, her grinds growing more insistent.

Krystal's breathing became erratic, and her movements became more forceful. The sounds of your hips slamming into one another filled the air as you nibbled on her neck. You both could feel the approaching climax.

The accidental collision of your hips with the seat sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she couldn't help but let out a guttural groan. "Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don't stop..." she whimpered, her nails digging into your shoulders.

As you both approached climax, Krystal's body tensed, her movements wild and unrestrained. "THAT'S IT– FUCK ME, BABY– KNOCK ME UP–" she cried out, her voice shaking with the intensity of her pleasure.

You couldn't tell if she was serious but hearing her voice moan out like that? You couldn't take it. You took one of her soft perky breasts into your mouth as you bucked your hips upwards, burying your member in her depths before exploding, flooding her insides with your hot seed.

With a few final breaths, you both climaxed hard, your bodies quaking intensely as you sat on the toilet seat. You grabbed the sides of each other's face and started a sloppy makeout as you both let the pleasure seap out.

"Holy shit– I– Wow–"

"I know– I've never had sex in public before... but you're making me wanna do it more..."

Krystal chuckled as she leaned back, her body still impaled on your shaft. She looked at the time and realised it was starting to get late. She begrudgingly pulled herself off of you and quickly put her panties back on, sealing the cum inside her. She stood in a cute superhero pose, her perky tits jiggling with each movement.

The both of you cleaned each other up and left the restroom while no one was around. As the sky got dark, you opted to walk Krystal back to the BnB. Your father, already catching onto the brewing relationship, gave you another key for the room, allowing you to stay with her for a bit. You two walked back to Krystal's room, hand in hand, the night was still young. But you both had a long fun–filled day, and it was time to get some rest.

A few days later, the both of you found yourselves at the airport, your faces inches away from the other. She had her luggage with her as she stood there in a white button up and jean shorts. Your eyes brimmed with fake tears as you looked towards the floor, attempting to make her laugh through the sadness of the situation. Krystal, unable to hold back, chuckled before hugging you tightly.

"Aww, you're gonna miss me? I know, I know, baby... You can always come and visit me in Seoul~" she teased with a hint of sadness in her voice as she rubbed your back with her hand.

"Yeah, of course. Every chance I get, I'll be there~" you snapped out of your little fake crying fit to reciprocate the hug. Your arms embraced her tightly as you lifted her off the ground, spinning her around. As you spun, you planted a series of kisses on her forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Promise you'll come back to see me too, you know that room in the BnB will forever be reserved for you~" your sweet words touched her. The both of you couldn't help but cuddle and kiss as if no one else existed around you. Your surroundings faded into nothing as the only thing that mattered was the love you both shared.

With several hours left before her flight, you both decided to make the most of the remaining time. Krystal grabbed your wrist and brought you to the private lounge where she left her baggage at. She pushed you into the restroom and locked the door behind her. Such a bold move, what if someone saw...

She began to undress you methodically. She started with your shirt, undoing your buttons slowly and seductively, kissing your neck as she does so. She then moved to your belt, unbuckling it and pulling it off. Lastly, she undid your pants, letting them fall and pool around your feet.

"Mmmh~ That's a whole lot of man... Luckily for me, he's all mine~"

"All yours, baby–"

She gave you a desperate and fiery kiss before taking a handkerchief out from your shirt pocket and stuffing it into your mouth. "Shhh..." she whispered as she gave you a wink.

She knelt down and pushed your underwear down, revealing your semi–erect cock. She let out a small moan as her eyes remained fixated on your rod. She stood up and pulled you towards the mirror. You faced the mirror as you watched her through the reflection.

She slowly and flirtatiously undressed, giving you long looks at her ample body. You bit down on the handkerchief, reeling from the fact that you couldn't just ravage her right there and then. Well, you could, but there must be a reason she made you face the mirror right?

She removed her top, revealing her beautiful breasts. Your eyes zoned in on her nipples, almost salivating at the sight of them. They were hard nubs because of the cold restroom air. She approached you from behind as she wrapped her hands around your shaft. Your eyes widened as a muffled moan escaped from your handkerchief.

Krystal began to stroke you, her hand moving in slow deliberate cockscrews. She would occasionally spit on your cock for extra lubrication. She whispered into your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

As her hands went into a rhythm, her grip tightened, and she started to pump you up and down. You could feel her thumb cradling your cockhead, rubbing the precum slicked head in slow and sloppy circles. Each pump became faster, a loud squelching sound emitted from your cock as her saliva mixed with your precum. Your shaft would glisten with the mixture, reflecting the fluorescent lights of the washroom.

"Mmmh~ Y/N, I bet you're gonna cum so hard for me, right? You wanna cover my delicate hands with your thick... creamy... hot seed, huh?" Krystal's warm breath tickled your earlobe, her lips grazing it. "Feel my fingers... feel them moving up and down your hard... throbbing cock... You like that, don't you?"

The sensation of her hot breath, her hand and the mirror's reflection of her had you on edge. You neared the brink of ecstasy as she increased her pace. The sound of her wrist slapping against your stomach. Her hand glided on your shaft smoothly. The sounds that were emanating from the activity were loud and erotic.

You could see her tongue licking her lips every so often through the reflection in the mirror. It was like she was staring at her favourite meal. And you liked that. You liked feeling like her beloved snack. Because in your eyes, that was what she was to you.

Her hand twisted, coaxing your cock to release more precum and increase the lubrication. You could feel her nails slightly brushing against your shaft, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Cum for me, baby~ Show me... Show me how much you'll miss me... I know I'll miss touching you... So go on, darling... Show me~"

You couldn't hold it any longer, your semen began pooling at the base of your cock. Krystal sensed it too, and without warning, her hands began moving at a furious pace. You let go. Your body shuddered and spasmed as you erupted, shooting globs of hot cum all over her hands, the mirror and the sink. Her hands kept working you, milking you for every last drop before eventually slowing to a stop.

You panted and grunted as your body trembled from the pleasure. She looked at the mess you made all over the mirror, her tongue running over her lips, a wicked grin on her face.

"Ah, how was that for a parting gift? I hope it was worth it..." her voice trailed off as she playfully pouted. She brought her hand up to her lips and licked all of your cum off her hands.

She pulled the handkerchief out of your mouth and kissed you passionately before leading you both to the toilet seat. She shedded her jean shorts. You sat down, eagerly as she mounted you, pushing your face in between her pointy tits. You couldn't help but rub your face on them, letting your tongue lick her hardened nubs.

She grinded her hips against yours, the warm wetness of her pussy smeared against your cock.

"Mmm~ Look how wet you've made me... You'll have to take responsibility for this..." she purred, her voice tinged with lust.

You were quick to tease her, sticking two of your fingers inside her. Her walls tightened and spasmed around them. You began to finger her as she continued to grind on your throbbing member. The two of you matched the other's rhythm, the sounds of hips slamming against one another filled the room.

Her moans gradually grew louder as your fingers increased their pace, moving in and out of her. Adding a third finger, you watched her body tense up as she arched her back, pulling you further into her fragrant chest. Krystal swayed, her body reacting to the stimulation as the wet squelching of her insides echoed throughout the room.

"Ahhn~ Y/N, I need–" she moaned, a guttural groan escaping her lips.

"Fuck me, Y/N– please– I want you inside me–" she begged. You looked up into her eyes as they pleaded for the chance to have you ravage her insides one last time.

You obliged, sliding your cock into her wet and warm slit. The feeling of raw penetration sent waves of shivers all throughout your body. You began bucking your hips up into her at a steady pace. You held her hips tightly as you buried your face into her cleavage. Her walls were slick, clinging onto your member.

"Krystal–" you mumbled. Her sultry voice boomed with breathy moans as you continued to bottom her out.

"Goddamn– You're so tight– I fucking love it–" you added.

She met every one of your thrusts with a matching motion, her body moved with desperate hunger. You couldn't help but nibble on her nipples and neck, leaving light marks. The both of you could feel the frenzied lust taking over.

"Fuck, Y/N– That's it, don't stop– Don't you dare, baby–" she cried out, her grip on your shoulder tightening. You slammed into her, your speed increasing. Krystal moaned louder than ever before, her voice echoing through the small restroom.

Suddenly, her body began to spasm as she came hard. She threw her head back as her body shook and twitched. You continued to slam into her, her insides clenching and releasing you. After a few more thrusts, her eyelids fluttered open as she leaned towards you.

"That's it– Fuck me– KNOCK ME UP–" she wailed, her body tensing, her movements becoming more erratic.

The feeling of the toilet rubbing against your hips increased the intensity of her climax. You felt yourself reaching your boiling point as well. You threw your mouth onto her tits, your body shivering. As you felt yourself start to shake, you connected your lips with hers.

"I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU– I LOVE YOU–" she moaned, her voice muffled by your rough kisses.

Your thrusts became more intense, your hips leaving the seat a couple of times. You let out a loud groan, and your cock twitched inside her. Krystal screamed, her body shaking.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N–" she cried out, her voice shaking.

Together, the both of you reached a powerful climax, the second or third one for her during this session. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through your entire body. You flooded her insides with your hot seed, your bodies quaking intensely.

You panted heavily as you shared a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing. The pleasure began to subside, and the both of you slowly calmed down.

"I fucking love you... Krystal... I don't think I will ever find anyone like you ever again..."

"I love you too, Y/N… But me neither... Ah shit, my flight's boarding soon..."

The both of you reluctantly got up and cleaned yourself off. You shared a long and passionate kiss before you both exited the stall, looking as though nothing had happened. You walked her to the boarding gate, right before she crossed over. With a final hug, you smiled, your tears falling down your cheeks.

"Don't forget me, Krystal... Don't let those Korean men get you while I'm gone..."

"Don't worry, baby~ I'm all yours and you're all mine... I'll text you when I land, alright?" she reassured you. You held her close. She nodded, her face contorting with sadness. With a final kiss, you both pulled away. She waved as she entered the departure area.

As you turned away, you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

"I LOVE YOU, Y/N~!"

You shedded a tear as you returned the sentiment.

"I LOVE YOU TOO, KRYSTAL!"

And with that she ran off to catch her flight, leaving you a small ache in your heart.

"I'll always love you... Krystal Jung..."

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

#x male reader #kpop smut #smut #girl group smut #x male!reader #male reader #fanfic smut #female idol smut #f(x) smut #krystal jung smut

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neowinestainedress · 1 year ago

Text

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.

genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)

warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n

visuals

wc: 16.590k

a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don��t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡

The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.

You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.

You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through.

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you.

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It’s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open. You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. ��All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement.

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed.

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face.

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small.

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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#nct fanfiction #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny scenarios #johnny seo smut #johnny hard hours #johnny hard thoughts #mxfxf #bisexual reader #nct x black reader #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct dilf

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kaynothanks · 8 months ago

Text

THE BARGAIN STORE

Pairing: Loki x goddess!reader

Summary: You, a goddess hiding on Earth, encounter Loki, who eons ago vowed to kill you. Loki never was one to keep his word.

Warnings: (18+ mdni) loki, what else? the smut just happened, i don’t even know how (yes, I do), oral (f receiving), loki has ulterior motives, mention of blood (lip), unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering

Word-Count: 6.5 k

Nobody suspected anything. Never had. For the past few decades, you had been the owner of your little shop, after spending many centuries on the run.

Throughout centuries, there had been wars and revolutions, plagues and remedies. You had stood witness to them all. Watched from the distance as civilizations went into ruin and new ones emerged. You had made sure not to get too involved. It wasn’t your place; not your planet and not your people. Still, you had been on earth for a big part of your lifespan. In your world, you weren’t anything special, a sheep in a broad herd. And you had had enough of it. So, you had left. Ran from your responsibilities, bid no goodbyes and settled for something less.

Centuries had woven themselves into the very fabric of your being, each era a thread in the intricate tapestry of your existence. You had been many things: a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the twilight, a force as ancient and unyielding as the stars themselves. Yet, for the last few decades, you had chosen a far simpler, more unassuming role—a shopkeeper, tending to a quaint little establishment nestled on a serene street, far removed from the cacophony of the bustling city that surrounded it.

Your shop was a sanctuary, not just for you, but for all who sought refuge within its walls. From the outside, it appeared no different from any other boutique that dealt in herbs, teas, and the occasional curious trinket. However, its essence was imbued with something far more ancient, a magic that hummed quietly beneath the surface, perceptible only to those who truly believed or those who, like you, were of another world entirely.

This little shop was your haven, a place where you could be both less and more than what you were. Here, you were not the goddess who had danced among the stars, who had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, who had fled from a war that threatened to consume her very soul. Here, you were simply the keeper of secrets, of remedies both mundane and magical, offering solace to the weary and the lost.

Your reasons for choosing this existence were manifold, but at their core lay a desire for peace, for a semblance of normalcy in a life that had been anything but. You had grown weary of the endless conflicts that had defined your existence, of the power struggles that had torn apart realms and ravaged worlds. Earth, with all its simplicity and complexity, offered a respite, a place where you could hide in plain sight among its inhabitants, who remained blissfully unaware of the greater cosmos that swirled around them.

The shop became a reflection of your desire for tranquility. Its walls were lined with shelves laden with jars and bottles, each containing herbs and potions that held whispers of your old world. You delighted in the mundane tasks of tending to your plants, mixing herbs, and brewing teas, finding a sense of purpose in the healing and comfort your creations provided. Your customers, none the wiser to the true nature of your being, were drawn to your shop by an inexplicable pull, leaving with remedies for their ailments and, sometimes, a lighter heart.

For years, this life had been enough. You had convinced yourself that you could forget, that you could move beyond the past and forge a new existence among the humans you had come to cherish. But the past, as it often does, refused to remain buried. It came for you on an unremarkable day, shattering the peace you had so carefully built with the ringing of the shop's bell and the entrance of a figure from a life you had tried to leave behind.

Loki's arrival was a storm on the horizon, a harbinger of chaos that threatened to upend the world you had created. The God of Mischief, with his piercing gaze and sly grin, embodied everything you had fled from: the power, the destruction, the endless machinations of gods and men. His presence in your shop, a place that had been untouched by the affairs of gods for so long, was a stark reminder that one could never truly escape their nature or their past.

The last time you had seen Loki, it was on the battlefield. You had been on opposing sides, and his last words to you were a vow of death. Yet, here he stood, looking around your shop with a curious gleam in his eyes, not having recognized you yet. Or had he? With Loki, one could never be too sure. You steadied yourself, the mask of the shopkeeper sliding effortlessly into place. "Can I help you find anything?" Your voice was calm, betraying none of the turmoil inside.

Loki turned his attention to you, his green eyes piercing. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "I'm looking for something unique," he declared, the silk of his voice wrapping around you like a familiar shroud. His steps were measured as he approached, the predator within barely leashed. "A gift for someone who values... rare items."

You couldn't help but wonder who Loki would consider worthy of a gift. Your curiosity, however, was a dangerous thing, especially around him. "I have a few rare herbs and special tea blends. If you're looking for something more unique, perhaps a potion or two? Depending on what you wish to achieve." You kept your tone neutral, professional.

It was a game of cat and mouse, and you both knew it. Loki's lips twitched into a smile, and he moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "And what would you recommend for someone seeking... forgiveness?"

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, the mask slipped. Loki was asking for forgiveness? From whom? The thought that it might be you crossed your mind, but you dismissed it just as quickly. "Forgiveness is not easily obtained by potions alone. It requires sincerity and action. But," you paused, turning to fetch a small, unassuming bottle from a shelf behind you, "this may aid in opening the heart to forgiveness, making it more receptive."

He took the bottle, examining it with a thoughtful expression. "And what do you seek, shopkeeper? What would you have me pay for this aid?"

"Peace," the word slipped out before you could stop it. It was the truth, however. Peace was all you had sought by coming to Earth, peace from your past, from the endless battles and politics of gods.

"A tall order," Loki mused, placing the bottle down and stepping closer, invading your personal space. "But perhaps not impossible."

The tension between you was palpable, a dance of curiosity, old grudges, and unspoken questions. "Why are you here, Loki?" you dared to ask, needing to know his purpose. Your heart raced, not just from surprise but from a resurgence of a darker thrill you thought you had buried deep within. The life you had led before, filled with power plays and destruction, beckoned with a seductive finger through Loki's emerald gaze. As Loki dared to step closer, crossing the invisible boundary you had mentally drawn around yourself, a surge of defiance ignited within you. Your heart raced, not solely with fear but with the resurgence of a power you had long kept dormant. With a thought as sharp as a whispered incantation, you summoned a dagger into existence. It materialized in your hand, its golden blade gleaming with a light that spoke of ancient magics and forgotten realms. This was no mere weapon but a relic of your divine heritage, a testament to the might you once wielded freely.

You didn't hesitate. The years had taught you caution, yes, but they had also honed your instincts, sharpened them into lethal points. As Loki advanced, a smile playing on his lips as if he were merely a predator toying with his prey, you struck. The movement was fluid, a dance you had performed countless times across the battlegrounds of the stars. The blade sliced through the air, aimed with deadly precision at the figure before you.

But the strike met no resistance. Instead, the dagger sliced through the illusion, the projection of Loki dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind only the faintest traces of his magic in the air. It was a trick, a mere sleight of hand from the God of Mischief, and you had fallen for it. A cold realization washed over you, a reminder of Loki's cunning, of the depths of his power which, it seemed, had only grown over the years.

Before you could recover, before you could even curse your own folly, arms enveloped you from behind. It was an embrace as familiar as it was unexpected, one that spoke of countless lifetimes and entwined destinies. His hand snaked around your waist, securing you against him with an intimacy that belied the years of separation and the shadow of past betrayals. The other hand, firm and unyielding, gripped hold of your wrist, effortlessly disarming you of the dagger you had conjured. Its golden light flickered and died, leaving you exposed, vulnerable in a way that went beyond the physical.

Loki's breath was warm against your neck, his presence a cloak of inevitability you found yourself powerless to resist. "How I have missed you, darling," he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin, a mix of threat and endearment. In that moment, with Loki's arms around you and his voice weaving spells of its own, you were transported back across the aeons, to a time when love and war were intermingled, and your fate was inseparably tied to the whims of gods.

The realization that the figure you had attacked was but a projection, a mere echo of Loki's true self, sank in with a weight that was almost suffocating. It was a reminder of his mastery over illusions, over the realities he could weave with a mere thought. Yet, the arms that held you, the breath that teased the hairs at the nape of your neck, they were undeniably real. This was no illusion but the god himself, in flesh and blood, as tangible as the tumultuous history you shared.

The conflict within you, a storm of emotions and memories, raged with renewed intensity. Loki's proximity, his touch, it reignited flames you thought had long since turned to ash. But this was not the time for reminiscences, for getting lost in what had been. The immediate truth was that Loki, the very being who had once vowed your destruction, now held you within his grasp, not as an enemy, but with a possessiveness that spoke of deeper, more complex intentions.

As his hand released your wrist, letting the vanished dagger be forgotten, you were left to grapple with the reality of his return. His words, laden with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher, echoed in the silence that followed. Was it a declaration, a manipulation, or something in between? With Loki, the lines were always blurred, the truth as shifting as the sands of time. The shop around you, once a sanctuary of peace, now felt like a stage set for a confrontation centuries in the making. The tranquility you had so carefully cultivated was shattered, replaced by the crackling energy of a storm about to break. Loki's presence, both familiar and foreboding, promised nothing and everything, a paradox that was his very essence.

Still ensnared in Loki's unexpected embrace, his words lingering in the air between you, a whirlwind of emotions battled within you. Anger, betrayal, and a flicker of something dangerously akin to longing. His presence, his closeness, was overwhelming, yet you found the clarity to make a choice. You would play his game, match his deceit with your own cunning, even as thoughts of vengeance danced just beneath the surface of your composed exterior.

Turning your head to face him, you allowed the moment to stretch, to teeter on the edge of something neither of you could fully grasp. Your lips hovered so close to his, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, a tantalizing promise of what could be. "Have you now, my love?" The words slipped from your lips, laced with a venom sweetened by the honeyed guise of affection. It was a challenge, a provocation, delivered with the precision of one who knew just how to stir the god of mischief.

Loki responded not with words, but with action. He hummed, a sound that vibrated with a multitude of unspoken thoughts and desires, before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It was a bold move, one that sought to bridge centuries of separation and silence with the intimacy of a moment. The kiss was a fusion of past and present, a clash of wills and desires, as complex and enigmatic as Loki himself.

Yet, as his lips moved against yours, a part of you recoiled, a reminder of the chasm that lay between what was and what could never be. With a resolve as cold and sharp as a blade, your hand found its way into the silk of his dark locks. You allowed yourself a brief second, a heartbeat, to feel the warmth of him, to breathe in the scent that was undeniably Loki, before your fingers curled into a fist, gripping tightly.

With a swift, decisive motion, you pulled him away, breaking the kiss, severing the illusion of reconciliation and intimacy. "I don't believe you for a second," you hissed, the words dark and laden with all the unspoken truths and lies that had accumulated over the years. It was a declaration of war as much as it was a rejection, a line drawn in the sand that marked the boundary between past affections and present distrust.

Loki, taken aback by the suddenness of your rejection, the intensity of your grip, could only stare, the mask of charm and seduction slipping to reveal a glimpse of the genuine surprise and, perhaps, a flicker of a bruised ego beneath his mask. The god of mischief, so accustomed to being the orchestrator of deceit, found himself momentarily at a loss, caught in the web of his own making. The air between you crackled with tension, charged with the electricity of a storm on the horizon. In that moment, with the remnants of the kiss still lingering like a phantom touch upon your lips, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare. It was a tapestry woven with threads of love and hatred, betrayal and longing, each stitch a testament to the turbulent history you shared.

Your defiance, your refusal to succumb to the seduction of a momentary weakness, set the stage for what was to come. It was a declaration that you were no longer the deity who had fled, who had sought refuge in the shadows of anonymity. You were a force to be reckoned with, a player in the game of gods, and Loki would do well to remember that.

Loki's response to your defiance was as swift as it was unpredictable. His initial surprise at your resistance melted away into that all-too-familiar grin, a mischievous curve of his lips that had always heralded trouble. The atmosphere shifted palpably, charged with a tension that was as much about power as it was about the unresolved history simmering between you. He advanced, the godly aura that clung to him making the air around you thrum with energy. His approach was deliberate, each step calculated to intimidate and enthrall in equal measure. You found yourself retreating until the solid form of the front desk halted your escape, the mundane reality of your shop a stark contrast to the unfolding drama.

Loki's fingers, cool and assertive, found the hem of your clothes, tugging with a playful yet disapproving frown. "I must confess, I find myself at odds with your choice of attire," he remarked, his voice a low purr that vibrated with an undercurrent of something darker. "These... mundane garments do not suit you. I miss the dresses of old, the ones that whispered secrets against your skin, the ones I could remove with but a thought." His words were a deliberate provocation, designed to unnerve and reminisce a past intimacy that had once been.

Before you could muster a retort or push him away, he lifted you with an ease that spoke of his godly strength, sitting you atop the counter with a possessive certainty. The action was bold, an invasion of personal space that he seemed to relish, watching for your reaction, gauging how far he could push before you snapped. His behavior, this blend of familiarity and threat, placed you at a crossroads. Part of you, the part hardened by centuries of hiding and surviving, screamed for caution, for you to summon your powers and push him away, to reinforce the boundaries he so blatantly disregarded. Yet, another part, perhaps the part that had once known him more intimately, that remembered the complexity of his character, urged you to wait, to use this proximity to your advantage.

The realization dawned on you then, amid the tension and the charged air, that Loki's tactics had shifted because he needed something from you. His words, his actions, were part of a larger game, one that involved merely his goal, and by extension, you. It was a game of manipulation, of old affections twisted into new strategies, but it was also a game you could play.

"So, you miss the past," you found yourself saying, voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. Your eyes locked with his, a challenge laid bare. "But the past is a realm even you cannot return to, Loki. We are not who we once were, and desires... desires can be as fleeting as they are dangerous." It was a gamble, invoking both your shared history and the undeniable tension of the present. You sought to remind him that you were not the same deity he had once known, that you had grown and changed, just as he had. In this dance of words and wills, you were not just the prey he might have assumed you to be; you were a player in your own right, with your own cards yet to be revealed.

The next move was his, and the air between you crackled with the anticipation of it.

Loki's gaze, a maelstrom of green, held yours with an intensity that bordered on the palpable, each flicker of emotion a testament to the centuries that had shaped him. His response, when it came, was threaded with the weight of ages and the depth of a god's desires.

"My yearning for you," he began, his voice a low thrum that seemed to echo with the gravitas of eons passed, "has never been of the fleeting kind. It is as enduring as the stars that light our skies, as unyielding as the fabric of reality itself. To suggest otherwise is to misunderstand the very nature of my being."

With these words, he sank to his knees before you, an act so filled with symbolic surrender and yet charged with an undercurrent of strategy. In this position, Loki, the god of mischief, the architect of chaos, positioned himself in a posture of fealty—or so it seemed. Yet, you knew better than to take the gesture at face value. Loki was many things, but straightforward was not one of them. Every action, every word, was laced with layers of meaning, designed to manipulate and coax the desired response from those he engaged with.

His move was bold, a calculated risk meant to disarm and perhaps to remind you of the dynamics that had once defined your interactions. It was an acknowledgment of your power, your importance in this intricate game he was playing. Yet, it was also unmistakably a ploy, a way to close the distance between you, to weave a narrative of shared history and unresolved tension.

The air around you seemed charged, thick with the history and the palpable tension of the moment. Loki, on his knees, looking up at you with an intensity that spoke of genuine desire mixed with the ever-present calculation, presented a picture of vulnerability. Yet, you were not so easily swayed. You knew the depths of his cunning, the lengths he would go to achieve his ends. His admission, cloaked in the grandiosity of his age and station, left you with a choice. To engage, to allow yourself to be drawn back into the orbit of his world, his plans, or to hold firm, to remember the reasons for your distance, for the life you had chosen away from the machinations of gods and their games.

The moment stretched, a tableau of tension and possibility, as you weighed your response, acutely aware of the stakes, of the game that was afoot, and of Loki, who knelt before you, a god cloaked in the guise of a supplicant, yet undeniably dangerous, undeniably compelling.

As Loki knelt before you, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken words, you made a decision. Lifting your leg, the black of your heeled shoes catching the light and glinting ominously, you pushed against his shoulder. It was a gesture meant to distance, to assert your autonomy against his sudden show of vulnerability or manipulation—whichever it truly was. Your voice, when it came, was laced with a mixture of resolve and undeniable truth, a reflection of the complex dance that had always defined your interactions.

"Your desire for me," you began, your words deliberate, "could never hope to keep pace with your lust for your myriad schemes and machinations, my love." The term of endearment, spoken so, carried a weight of irony, a nod to the past entanglements and the understanding that, for Loki, the pursuit of his goals often overshadowed everything else.

Yet, instead of acquiescing to the push, of allowing himself to be dismissed so easily, Loki's reaction was to tighten his grasp on the situation—quite literally. His hands, those instruments of mischief and manipulation, found your leg, his touch bold as he held you in place. Then, with an audacity that was quintessentially Loki, he pressed his lips against your calf in a kiss that was as shocking as it was calculated. It was an act of defiance, a refusal to be pushed away, and a statement of his intent all at once.

This gesture, so intimate and yet so brazen, served multiple purposes. It was a challenge to your autonomy, a test of your boundaries, and an undeniable declaration of his continued interest. Yet, it was also unmistakably Loki—crossing lines, blurring boundaries, and always, always pushing for more than what was offered. The action left you momentarily stunned, grappling with the rush of emotions it elicited. Anger, irritation, an unwelcome surge of something more confusing, all mingled together. It was a reminder of the power he wielded, not just through his magic, but through his very presence, his ability to unnerve and to provoke.

In that moment, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare once more. It was a tangled web of attraction and repulsion, of history and the potential for future conflicts. His refusal to be dismissed, to be pushed aside, was both infuriating and intriguing. It was Loki in all his complexity, challenging you to respond, to engage, to once again become entangled in the endless cycle of push and pull that had always defined you.

The next move was yours to make, and the shop, once a place of mundane tranquility, had become a battleground of wills, a stage upon which the next act of your shared story would unfold. With a flick of your fingers, reality within the confines of your shop twisted and shifted, unfurling like the petals of a flower under the first light of dawn. The mundane guise that had cloaked the truth from prying eyes dissolved, revealing the hidden splendor that no ordinary human could perceive. The illusion you had meticulously maintained for years now peeled away, and the floor beneath your feet transformed, paths of gold unfurling like rivers through the space. Artifacts, their origins as ancient and varied as the stars themselves, now adorned the walls—each piece a testament to histories untold and powers unimaginable.

But the transformation did not stop with the shop. It enveloped you as well, the very essence of your being responding to the unspoken command. The simple, mundane dress that had draped your form vanished, replaced by attire that echoed Loki's wistful remembrance. What materialized was reminiscent of your homeland's attire, designed for the relentless heat and the unyielding brightness of your realm. It was barely more than a tunic, the silk woven in patterns that spoke of ancient craftsmanship and royal decree, clinging to your form in a way that left little to the imagination. The hem flirted with the very brink of decency, the rump of your body barely shielded by the delicate fabric, a bold declaration of your heritage and status.

In this transformation, you reclaimed a fragment of your past self, the visage you had donned before you sought refuge and anonymity amongst the mortals of Earth. The change was not merely physical but symbolic, a shedding of the facade you had adopted to navigate the complexities of a world not your own. Standing there, in the true appearance of your being, you confronted Loki not as the unassuming shopkeeper he had encountered moments before, but as the goddess you truly were—powerful, formidable, and undeniably yourself. You stood before him not as an adversary to be underestimated, but as an equal, a being of immense power and depth, whose true nature was as complex and as potent as his own.

The shop, now a reflection of truths long concealed, served as the perfect backdrop for the unfolding confrontation. The artifacts that lined the walls, each bearing witness to the ages and the stories they contained, stood as silent sentinels to the encounter between two beings who transcended the mundane, whose histories were intertwined with the very fabric of the cosmos.

In this moment, the illusion shattered, the truth laid bare, you awaited Loki's response, the air thick with anticipation and the weight of unspoken challenges. The game, it seemed, had shifted, and the rules were being rewritten with each passing second. As the golden light settled and the true form of your shop shimmered into existence around you, Loki's initial reaction was a momentary flicker of surprise that quickly morphed into an appreciative smirk. His gaze swept over the transformed space, taking in the ancient artifacts and the streams of gold that ran like rivers across the floor. But it was the change in you that held his attention captive. The way the silk of your tunic clung to your form, the bold declaration of your divine heritage—it was as if he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

Loki breathed, his voice a blend of admiration and something darker, more primal. "This," Loki's voice wove through the air with an echo of ancient power, "is the true essence of you that lingers in my memory.” His eyes, alight with a mischievous and predatory gleam, never left your form as he slowly circled you, taking in every detail. "Hiding in plain sight, were we?" he mused, his tone teasing yet laced with an edge that hinted at the complexity of your shared past.

Despite the tension crackling in the air between you, you stood your ground, your posture radiating confidence and power. "And what of it, Loki?" you countered, your voice steady and imbued with strength. "Did you expect to find me cowering? Diminished?"

Loki's circling came to a halt, and he faced you, the distance between you charged with an electric anticipation. "On the contrary," he replied, his voice soft yet carrying an undeniable weight, as his fingers went forward, pulling at one of the strings keeping your body hidden from his gaze. "I've always known your strength, your... resilience. It's what makes this game so exhilarating."

The word 'game' hung between you, a reminder of the countless layers and facades both of you had navigated over the eons. This moment, however, stripped away those layers, revealing the raw essence beneath. It was a confrontation, yes, but also a recognition of the profound connection that had always existed between you—a connection fraught with complexity and contradictions.

"Are you certain you wish to engage in another game, Loki?" Your voice, steady and imbued with a quiet power, cut through the charged silence, even as you felt him unbuckle your shoes, his fingers deftly and slowly slipping them from your feet. "I seem to recall your rather... unfortunate defeat last time." The words hung in the air, a challenge and a reminder of past encounters where the balance of power had shifted, leaving Loki on the losing end.

Loki's hands stilled momentarily as he lifted his gaze to yours, a cunning glint sparkling within those deep green eyes. "Ah, but my dear, to dwell on a solitary defeat is to overlook the endless expanse of the game," he mused with a sly, almost serpentine smile. "The allure for me lies not in the victory or the loss, but in the exquisite complexity of the play itself. The interplay of strategy, the artful dance of minds. And," his voice dropped, a velvet caress against the tension hanging in the air, "the delicious possibility of reversing fortunes, which, I assure you, is a prospect I find most... exhilarating."

As he spoke, his fingers slid underneath your heel, leading your leg to rest over his shoulder with a care and precision that contradicted the levity in his voice. Loki laid another feathery touch to your thighs, gripping them tighter as he wedged his face between them, while you held fast to the edge of the counter. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your core.

There was no need to harbor affection for the man to appreciate the artistry his mouth provided. His tongue grazed the surface of your clit and you felt a tremor coursing through your very bones. He delved deeper, his taste encompassing the entirety of your core. As he did, your legs seemed to tighten inadvertently around him, though it posed no barrier to his indulgence. Your cunt clenched and you were swept away as his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pulling you closer onto his awaiting tongue. The surge of familiar emotions within you was overpowering, far too intense for your unprepared body. Your head fell back with a moan as you gave yourself to him in your entirety and Loki groaned, his tongue honing in on your bud as he chased your orgasm. He refused to relent until the heat had filled you whole, filled your soul. You writhed underneath him, hips helplessly buckling. Loki chuckled, a melodic blend of amusement and triumph, resonating with an undercurrent of sly cunning.

“That’s it, darling,” he coaxed as a surge of desire blossomed within you, enough to part your lips into a broken cry. His dark hair peeked between your fingers and his tongue snuck out to lick his lips while his gaze was set on you above him. His hand wandered to your tunic and yanked it away. His thumb grazed your nipple when he returned his mouth to your center, two of his fingers slowly dipping into your glistening heat.

“Loki,” you whimpered, tightening the hold on his hair—he matched your movements, arm securing you to him so forcefully no might on Earth and beyond could have parted you from his lips. He curled his fingers, rubbing that special spot inside of you and your stomach twitched. You felt him grin against your heat, teeth gracing over your sensitive bud, as a tremor ran through your body.

“My tempest darling,” he sighed when he finally pulled his fingers from you, leaving behind such an agonizing feeling of emptiness. You were about to retaliate, when he stood, bringing your body this his, hand running along the length of your thigh before he hoisted it against his hip. “Even if doubt shadows your heart, my dear, believe me, the absence of your taste on my tongue has been an ache most persistent,” Loki declared, his voice weaving together assurance and playful sincerity. One of his hands made quick work of undoing the dress pants of the black suit he was clad in, the other clutching your thigh close—so terribly tight you were certain even the skin of gods could be bruised by his hungry fingers. His lips found yours, softly at first, though through the looming desire burning within, Loki’s control appeared to stray when you bit into his lip, drawing blood. A groan tore from his throat, eyes darkening as he looked down at you, refusing to part from your gaze even as he entered you. Your mouth fell open against his, a silent moan slipping from your lips, his forehead dropping onto yours. He moved then, pulling out barely before he pushed back in so deeply it shook you. Loki had always been the embodiment of wickedness wrapped in the guise of charm; an enigma whose very presence stirred a vicious blend of temptation and sin, drawing all who encounter him into a dance with the devilishly divine.

“How I’ve missed you,” he whispered against the heated skin of your neck, traveling downward to softly kiss along your bared collarbones. His voice was a divinity, dark and rich and soaked with the sweetest of all sins. The emerald green within his eyes reflected the gold surrounding you. One of your hands cradled the back of his neck, fingers catching loose strands of raven hair that had grown so long in the centuries you hadn’t laid your sights on him. Loki held your thigh in a fierce grip, fingers digging further into your flesh with every stroke of his throbbing cock with your heat.

“You swore to kill me, my love,” you gasped as he delivered another harsh thrust, your head fell forward against his shoulder a searing pleasure built within you.

As his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your neck, savoring the salty essence of your being, Loki’s hand traveled from the curve of your thigh, securing you firmly against him at your waist, moving you against him in a refined rhythm. Against the warmth of your skin, he murmured, “To kill you, my little deity, would be akin to consigning a part of my own soul into the abyss.”

A gasp caught in your throat as he thrust into you deeper than before and you collapsed against him, coming with a cry of relief. He continued thrusting into you, arm keeping you secured against him as though you were about to vanish as you had done all those years ago. He lifted your chin, his mouth capturing yours when you felt him jerk inside of you. You felt his warmth spilling into you, his shameless groans filling your ears as he emptied himself within you. Breath mixing with his, you stayed there for a moment—in which the world seemed to narrow down to the space between the two of you, to the silent conversation spoken through glances and the slight tremors in your lungs.

Loki stole another kiss, then, as if breaking from a spell, his expression shifted, his early devotion to you giving way to a more serious, contemplative mien. “Business with you, my tempest darling, had always been a delight most exquisite,” Loki said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on violence. “I trust you’re familiar with the tales of the Celestial Compass, aren’t you?” he continued, referring to an artifact of immense power and ancient origin, rumored to guide its holder to whatever they sought most in the universe. It was an object that you had kept hidden away, its location known only to you.

The mention of the compass sliced through the tension, a stark reminder of the stakes at play. Loki's presence in your shop, the transformation of your surroundings, the exchange of words—all were mere preludes to this moment.

"Why, Loki?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and defiance as you fixed the tunic he had so carelessly pulled aside. "Why seek the compass now? What is it you desire so fervently to find?"

Loki's smile then was enigmatic, a mask that offered no clear answers. "Ah, but revealing one's desires so openly is a dangerous game, my dear. Let's just say... I seek something that has long eluded me." The ambiguity of his response left you wary, aware that Loki's desires were seldom straightforward and often entwined with greater schemes and hidden agendas. Yet, the acknowledgment of this quest, of his need for the compass, revealed a vulnerability in Loki—a crack in the armor he so carefully maintained.

As Loki awaited your response, the weight of centuries and the anticipation of what was to come hung heavily in the air. The next move was yours to make, in a game that was as much about uncovering truths as it was about concealing them. In response to his inquiry, your reply came not in words, but in the form of a serene smile, a silent echo of your shared past. With a casual flick of your fingers, you vanished into the ether, just as you had done countless centuries before, leaving Loki alone in the confines of what now appeared to be a decrepit shop. Its once vibrant essence faded, reflecting the sudden void your departure had created.

Loki, momentarily taken aback, quickly regained his composure. A laugh, rich with both amusement and a tinge of admiration, escaped him as he reached out to snatch a golden letter materializing out of thin air. The letter, simple yet profound in its message. The words, though brief, carried the weight of eons, a testament to the enduring dance between you two. Loki's gaze lingered on the golden script, a smirk playing on his lips, already plotting his next move in the timeless game between you.

“Farewell, my love.”

#loki series #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki smut #loki x y/n #loki x you

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itstheghostofmypast · 9 months ago

Text

15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.' Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy." she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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hongism · 1 year ago

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THIS WORLD. - k. hongjoong (m)

➼ genre; smut (some minor angst and fluff) ➼ pairing; hongjoong x fem!reader ➼ au; outlaw!hongjoong, dystopian futurism, lore accurate ateez ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 4.5k

What he’s given you is essentially one chance and night. Nothing more and nothing less.

part of the outlaw miniseries.

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➼ smut warnings; piv, unprotected sex, oral: f, creampie, light choking/asphyxiation, dirty talk, breast/nipple play

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Cool night air brushes across your cheeks as you set foot on the roof, eyes already scanning your surroundings in the hopes of finding what you’re looking for here. Of course, it doesn’t take much — Hongjoong is a hard man to miss unless the government officials are looking for him, in which case he has an uncanny ability to make himself totally invisible in a crowd.

There are no crowds up here though; just you, him, and the night to keep you company.

You see him clearly across the stretch of roof that’s accentuated by gaudy neon signs and other electrical components that keep the bar below powered.

“Closed up shop for the night,” you offer as a means of greeting the man. He’s donned his usual dramatic regalia tonight as well, complete with the patterned bandana pulled up over his nose and the ridiculous cowboy hat he fetched out of a dumpster several months back. It matches the vibe of the bar, he had told you and Mingi. While you weren’t on board, Mingi was more than a little eager to pull together a similar outfit for himself. “Everyone else went home.”

K-Hot Chilli Peppers. When you saw the job listing online, you had laughed at the name before realizing that it’s only half as ridiculous as many of the other bars in Night City, and you weren’t about to be picky given that you were desperate to find a place that lets you actually use your tender’s license on the daily. Upon being hired, you were promptly told to not ask questions when two rugged outlaws came through the doors and went up to the roof without pause. Answers came on their own, naturally and over time as you peeled back the seemingly endless layers to the two vigilantes who had set up shop in your new place of employment.

Whatever the circumstances and however the stars aligned that night you saw the job listing, it all boiled down to this: standing across from Hongjoong on the rooftop under the stars with this magnetic sort of pull towards the man. A pull you shouldn’t even think to entertain mostly because you’d like to keep your job and also a little bit because you’d like to keep your life.

Hongjoong got a message today. You know that much because you saw the small moped buzz by in front of the bar after all the customers left, and though you don’t know who that delivery driver is, you know he always brings something more than crappy takeout. The most convincing piece of evidence came in how Mingi promptly stormed out of the bar without so much as a goodbye twenty minutes later, and now here you stand up on the roof with the last man standing not long after. You aren’t here to ask questions as that wouldn’t be in your right (fairly so).

“I’m gonna close up and lock everything, if you’re done?” you continue pressing when Hongjoong fails to say anything back to you. He turns, gaze sharp as it finds you across the rooftop. The next moment, he pulls his bandana down to rest around his neck and exposes his handsome face to you.

“We’re not gonna be around much longer.”

You pull your lips together and do your best not to frown. “They won’t know you were ever here.”

“They’re gonna come looking here. And they’re gonna rip the place apart trying to find us.” Hongjoong takes slow steps in your direction as he speaks, tone low and quiet as though trying to either threaten or warn you. You don’t think he has a need for either. “When they come knocking, it’s not gonna matter what you do know or what you don’t know. Just being affiliated by name is enough of a crime.”

“Business is too good to be knocked down by a little police search.”

Hongjoong sinks his teeth into his lower lip. The light from the neon signs bounces off his face and casts crude little shadows across the roof. He looks far too worried for your liking, almost like there’s a semblance of care in the man, which was not part of the plan. You think you’re the one to blame for that, considering how you can’t simply leave well enough alone and have to express some modicum of care for those around you, including the vigilante outlaws that frequent your workplace and stay after hours. And well, all these months that have passed in this comfortable routine have made the heart grow fonder in many ways.

You’re quite fond of him, you think, and maybe those feelings are reciprocated to some extent.

The sky is clear tonight, free of clouds but the lights and pollution from the city obstruct the stars somewhat even now. Curfew is about to begin, but there’s no chance of you making it home before the drones start patrolling the streets. You could have left thirty minutes ago — should have most likely, but that chance is well and gone now.

“We leave tomorrow. I don’t know when we’ll be back.”

When is merely code for if, and you’re not dumb enough to think otherwise. If he survives whatever obscene plan he’s ready to deploy, you’re positive that Hongjoong won’t come back or set food near the bar again, even as a hideout. Men like him don’t stick to one place for long, especially not when their heads are full of grandiose plans of anarchy and destruction. You don’t blame him for it, but it does make your heart ache a little more than it should.

Your shoes skid across the stone of the roof as you cross the distance between you and him. It breaks the silence you’ve presented as an answer to him, and Hongjoong’s eyes grow wider as you turn the space into an afterthought. Shaky hands find their way around Hongjoong’s shoulders then come to clasp behind his neck.

“Tell me you’ll survive,” you plead to the night air between your lips.

“Of course I will,” he answers without hesitation, whether a lie or a truth he is willing to truly stand by and believe. You don’t ask that he tell you he’ll return here; some dreams are a bit too far-fetched.

When your hands begin to fall away from him, Hongjoong dips his chin and slots his lips over your parted ones. You scramble to regain your hold on him, fingers stretching up to tangle in the dark blue strands of hair on the back of his head just below where his hat sits. The pressure against your mouth is faint to begin with, something small and searching as he tests the waters and waits for your response. As though pulling him closer and nearly kissing him moments ago wasn’t enough of a confirmation for whatever this is.

“This is all I can give you,” he exhales into your mouth, and you press another heated kiss against his lips. I don’t need more than this. This is enough. This is all I could ask for from someone like you. It would be nice if you could ask for more but this is all the greed you can bear. His hands wander from your hips up to the hem of your shirt that sits against the loops of your jeans. The first contact of his fingertips on bare skin hits you like a bucket of ice water and sends goosebumps all across your body.

“Hongjoong,” you say against his mouth as he palms his way down to your thighs. He does well to quiet whatever thoughts are rushing through your head right now with his lips, breaking from yours to mouth along the line of your jaw. The force of his body moving against yours is enough to push you back, and you fall into step with him in an almost haphazard sort of way. Your back hits the wall soon after, right beside the door you just came out of minutes prior, and now Hongjoong has you pressed against the concrete with a knee slipping between your thighs. “Hongjoong.”

“You can’t stay here.” The blunt tips of his painted nails dig into the flesh above your jeans. A gasp tumbles from your lips as he licks over a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, and it makes your knees buckle in turn. “I can have two of my men transport you to a different area of the city in the morning. Earlier the better. We won’t be enacting any plans under the sun’s gone down.” You busy yourself with the buttons keeping his shirt around his body.

“No.”

He pauses where he is, halfway to removing your shirt from your torso, and looks you in the eye. You abandon his shirt in favor of clasping both hands around his cheeks.

“I’m not going anywhere because you’re going to come back to me and get me yourself.” Rather than denying your wistfulness, Hongjoong offers a half-smile and a breathy laugh, one you share in yourself before pulling his face back up to your own. You taste his lips again, but this time you pay more attention to it, the hint of spice on his tongue as he pushes past the seam of your mouth and explores you further. Your hands are busy with his shirt once more under the urging of your eagerness to have him. He responds in kind by hiking your shirt up over your chest and dragging the blunts of his nails down over the exposed skin on his path to your pants.

“Let me go down on you?” Your chest tightens at the proposition and at the way his voice sounds inexplicably strained from the mere thought of tasting you.

“Take this stupid shirt off first, for fuck’s sa—” Frustration wins the battle against his clothing, and Hongjoong leans away from you with a clear, resounding laugh that makes your stomach turn to mush. You ought to kick yourself in the side of the head for not acting on the blatant chemistry dancing between the two of you before now. Still, if this truly is a one-and-done thing, you’re going to do the absolute most to make it worth it. And maybe a bit unforgettable for both of you. Hooking your fingers under the handkerchief still tied about his neck, you pull Hongjoong close once again. He rushes to brace his hands on either side of you, his shirt still dangling from where it remains tucked into his ridiculous faux leather pants. His mouth goes straight for your neck, pulling the skin between his teeth and sucking so harshly at it that you feel tingles rush up to your skull. Your whine is music in the distant noise of the city, softly exhaled against the side of his head and disturbing the hair behind his ear. His hat is beginning to get in your way now too, especially as he kisses a path down to where he left your shirt. You catch the brim just before he goes lower, stripping it off his head with the hand you have draped around his shoulders. When he looks up at you from between your breasts, you smile, close-lipped but with an arched brow meant to tease further.

“The amount of filthy, heinous jokes on my mind right now,” he groans, head dipping forward to rest against your chest.

“If you make any sort of cowboy joke I’ll make sure you finish in your hand and nowhere else.” The threat is halfhearted of course, but it makes Hongjoong laugh in that obscenely pretty way again and you revel in the sound as he frees your breasts just enough to have access to them. Your nipples are already hardened peaks thanks to the simple touches from earlier, but the cool air stiffens them even further before Hongjoong has the chance to pull one into his mouth. Your back curls up off the wall, Hongjoong pinches your right nipple, and at the same moment, he pushes you back to the wall with enough force to punch a moan out of you.

“F-Fuck, Hongjoong.” You’re suddenly rather grateful to have something to hold onto because otherwise you would be digging your nails into your palms and making yourself bleed. As it is, you might run the risk of ruining Hongjoong’s treasured hat with how tight you’re gripping it at present. Your other hand sits on his bicep, atop the black-lettered inking that dances across his arm and reminds you that this man in your arms is one of a kind. You wonder, far and away in the back of your brain, how many have had the pleasure of being in your current position. He disperses those runaway thoughts mere seconds later; his hand sneaks down from its perch cupping your breast and locks onto the button keeping your pants together. The resulting lewd and wet pop! that comes from him pulling his lips away from your nipple makes your neck heat up.

“Bet I could make you cream your panties without even getting in your pants,” he quips as the button comes loose. Deftly, he works the zipper down in the same smooth movement.

“Who are you trying to impress, cowboy? You’ve already got me for the night.”

The muscles in his neck strain as he laughs and tilts his chin to the side, and your breath hitches watching him sink to his knees between your legs. Hongjoong folds his fingers around your wrist — the hand that currently holds his hat by the brim — and slowly, he guides you to place it back where it belongs atop his head.

“There. Now you can call me that again.” You can’t hide the unsteadiness of your breaths from him like this, even though he’s currently occupying his focus with stripping you of both jeans and underwear in one go. You brace a hand over your heart just to make sure it's still part of you despite racing like you’ve just run a marathon. Hongjoong’s lips skate against the inside of your knee when he lifts your ankle and carefully pulls the boot from your foot. Fabric follows suit quickly, then he commits to the same routine for your other leg — complete with the ghosting kisses and soft drags of his nails over the bare skin of your thighs. The growing pit of arousal in your stomach is so heavy that you think it might simply drip out of you the moment he touches your folds.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper. His kisses climb to the inside of your thighs, close enough to exhale heated breath across your pussy, but he doesn’t push further than that. Content to sit between your legs in the lewdest of positions and stare up at you through fluttering lashes.

“That’s not what you called me.” Hongjoong grins, cheek brushing against your thigh so close to your sex that your muscles twitch. “Maybe I’ll consider it—” he enunciates the word particularly harshly “—and do whatever you’d like?”

“You’re so — ugh, I want you to eat me out,” you mumble into the cradle of your hands, hardly able to look down at the man and be expected to speak like a normal functioning human being in this sort of predicament. He’s silent in return. “Cowboy.”

The veil of seriousness drops at that, and you’re the first to laugh at the sheer absurdity of calling him such a thing right now. Hongjoong can’t seem to keep himself together either, huffed laughter spilling out of him in turn.

“I wasn’t serious about you calling me that, y/n, I was just teasing. But I guess you want it pretty damn bad, huh?”

“Shut up!” Your tone contorts into a cracked gasp as Hongjoong wraps a hand back and around your thigh and spreads your legs over his face. Your hand flies to cover your mouth — something done out of pure instinct — and the man beneath you is quick to tut his disapproval.

“Let me hear you, pretty. I don’t want you covering anything up.”

“I-It’s the middle of the night,” you argue through your fingers.

“And? Wake the whole damn city if you have to, I want you to cry on my cock.”

You let your hand fall away and come to rest atop Hongjoong’s head (his hat, rather). Your view of what he’s doing is entirely obscured except for the slightest glint of his eyes when he tilts his chin against your cunt. You can’t seem to tear your gaze off of him regardless, lips parted and quivering as he presses his tongue between your folds and takes his first taste of you. The tension in your gut is wound into a knot so tight that your eyes burn and sting at the corners. Hongjoong takes you into his palm, onto his tongue, and into his deft fingers, and unravels you gloriously.

Two fingers dip lower and press against your entrance. He teases you with the pad of his middle finger only, toying with your hole and pushing into you ever so slightly before retracting to circle your clit with his tongue. He can’t run his mouth as he very much loves to in this position, but you’re finding that he makes use of his mouth in other more devilish ways, another talent he keeps tucked under his belt that you’re reaping the benefits from.

You can’t think of the last time you got laid, and trying to think of the last good fuck you had would be an even taller order. To imagine when a man last ate you out with actual passion and not simply as a means to an end might be impossible, or perhaps Hongjoong is simply keen on blowing every last sexual experience you’ve had out of the water in one go. When his fingers finally, at long last, stretch you open, you cry out with a moan so loud that it would be a miracle if no one heard it.

“Gonna make you taste yourself on my lips, pretty. Make your little cunt cream all over my cock until I fill you up with cum.” You jerk Hongjoong’s head almost violently, a sharp response to the way his fingers curl against your walls, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest from the task at hand. He pulls your clit between his lips and sucks until your knees give out under you. It sends his fingers deeper into your cunt in the same motion, nearly making you come undone.

“T-Too much, too much, Hongjoong, it’s — fuck, fuck, ah!” You fold in on yourself, free hand moving to press against your stomach as the pressure in you reaches an unbearable degree. Hongjoong works his fingers in and out of you at a steadily increasing pace and almost seems to be making a game of the way he curls them each time he flicks his tongue against your clit just for another moan to climb out of your throat. Each sound is more broken than the last, sweat beads on your forehead, and you think there’s a euphoric end in sight just for him to pull away without warning. Your walls clench tight around nothing as his fingers are now gone from you and sucked between his own lips. Dazed and frustrated, you pass an incredulous stare his way just for him to grin back at you, tongue teasing the vee between his fingers.

“Hm? Did you want something?”

“I—” Hongjoong eases your body back against the stone wall and hoists one of your legs around his hips. Your cunt is still tense and pulsing to the rhythm he spent all that time building. “If you don’t get inside me right the fuck now, Kim Hongjoong, so help me—”

He makes good on his promise to have you taste yourself on his lips. His tongue shoves its way into your mouth as well, eager to tangle with yours and push your arousal onto your own taste buds. You delight in the fervor with which he kisses you, and in the sound of his belt jingling because it means more pleasure is on the horizon. You feel a hand against your hip, and that’s the only real warning you get before he’s pushing the length of his dick into your pussy and burying himself to the hilt in you. You scramble to grab hold of him somehow. It’s a slight miracle that you don’t bite both his and your own tongues in the process because you cry out into his mouth. Your moan remains unbroken even when he pulls your mouths apart and rushes to cradle the back of your head before you whack it harshly against the concrete behind you. There’s not a second to catch your breath in Hongjoong’s mind; his other hand is busy at work, and he presses the pad of his thumb into your clit. He rubs once, twice, three times before you unravel on his cock.

“You’re so tight, fuck, if you could feel yourself, your cunt is so tight.” There are stars behind your eyelids, clearer than the ones in the sky, and Hongjoong begins to rock his hips up into yours as the weight of your orgasm barrels down on you. “You feel so good on me, pretty. Fuckin’ made for my cock, yeah?”

“Yeah, y-yes, yes, yes.” Your voice cracks at the tail end of your agreement. It turns into something more akin to a sob than a moan. Hongjoong’s pace is relentless in every regard. The lack of pause doesn’t let your body come totally undone or relax, still wound tight around your previous orgasm to the point where it feels like it won’t end.

“Keep taking it, lovely, I won’t be able to pull out with you squeezing around me like this.”

Whining, you drop your head to the side, chin coming all the way down to your shoulder. Hongjoong snakes his hand around to your neck and braces his index finger and thumb on either side of your jaw. Your head lolls in tune with the way he moves you and without resistance — every ounce of strength in your muscles has melted into goo in his hands. When he presses you back to the wall, your breath hitches. The sensation of his fingers at your neck has you feeling floaty and a bit detached from your body in the most pleasant way imaginable. His thrusts jerk your body enough to offer more pressure against your neck every so often but it’s not as persistent as you wish for it to be.

When you reach between your bodies and clasp your fingers around his wrist, Hongjoong seems to think that you want him to pull away because his grip loosens instantly.

“More,” you grit out, yanking his hand harder into the column of your neck. The steady rhythm he’s found falters momentarily for him to resituate his grip, but once he’s settled back into it, each thrust comes with a delightful headiness as your breath becomes shorter.

“’m close,” he announces. He shifts a hair to look down between your bodies and watches his length disappear into you a few more times before pulling his focus back up to your face with a groan. “Gonna cum in you, pretty, you’re still so tight.”

“Wanna cum with you, t-touch me again,” you pant, licking your lips between each phrase, “please.”

Despite his own shaky hands, Hongjoong reaches down to where his cock pumps in and out of you. He finds your clit with ease and rolls two fingers over it in a similar rhythm to his thrusts, pace only growing as he races towards his finish with you in tow. His motions fail as he orgasms, but the sudden feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls and pumping you full of hot cum pushes you over the edge with him. You almost don’t even feel it with all the sensations hitting you at once, and Hongjoong’s body falls against yours so harshly that your moan is positively unholy.

His hands keep roaming — tracing every inch of skin he can reach like he wants to commit it all to memory, and you simply let him do as he pleases because it feels good and it feels damn good to be wanted by this man. He pulls you towards a different section of the rooftop with your pants and underwear in hand. When he tugs you down to the messy pile of blankets that he and Mingi leave up here for particularly cold nights, you don’t even complain either. He lays himself down atop you, easing between your legs and caging you in with elbows pressed to concrete on either side of your head.

Hongjoong kisses you softly, and you smile against his lips. He finally settles down beside you after a few more exchanged kisses. His hat gets put aside with the other stray pieces of clothing — including his shirt that he’s finally decided to rid himself of far after the fact. The aftermath is peaceful, if a bit hazy as your brain still feels a jumbled mess of putty, and the stars above are bright.

“I’ll have someone pick you up in the morning to take you over to my men. The bar won’t be safe for a few weeks minimum. They can give you some cash to help cut your losses in the meantime too.”

“Okay,” you answer quietly. Beside you, his hand searches the blankets for your own. You let his fingers tangle with yours and squeeze until it hurts.

“Just don’t let Wooyoung try to convince you to buy into any scheme he might come up with.”

“Who?”

“Trust me, he’ll let you know who he is.” Hongjoong laughs at his own comment but falls into silence when he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Come back for me please.”

Hongjoong is quiet beside you for several lingering seconds, then he leans across the empty space and kisses your temple.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

You believe him.

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please like & reblog this work and consider leaving a reply or sharing your thoughts in a reblog or ask!

this work belongs to caly / hongism (2023). do not copy, repost, or plagiarize in any way.

#ateez smut #hongjoong smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff #hongjoong fic #hongjoong ff #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong imagine #caly.writes

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evagreen-stories · 7 months ago

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The Forest Beauty | (Aemond x f!modern!reader) (part 1/?)

Summary: time traveler decides to live her new life out in the kingswood, avoiding the new world she finds herself in until an encounter with a certain one-eyed prince changes her life.

Warnings: dark!themes, dark!aemond, obsessive!aemond, book!aemond, no intimacy (smut starts with part 2), intro and first part are kinda a slow burn to introduce the storyline & character

Non-Canon Storyline: 3 years post war – greens won, Aegon's only son was k*lled and only has two daughters remaining, he cannot produce more heirs, Helaena is alive but depressed,Aemond serves as prince regent ever since Aegon got injured during the war and is chronically sick and getting weaker, Aemond is to inherit the iron throne soon, Aemond k*lled Alys Rivers along with all other strongs, Aemond broke the betrothal to Floris Baratheon when he became Prince Regent and won the war (Also, I'm not a native english speaker, please be patient with me)

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

< intro masterlist part 2 > (coming soon)

You wander around the woods, returning from another day of working in the city and coming closer and closer to your home when you start to feel uneasy, as if you’re not alone in the forest. You stop and listen, noticing the sound of footsteps close by. With careful steps you approach the sounds, noticing a head full of silvery hair between the trees and watching it carefully.

A man with an eyepatch, dressed in black leather clothes and carrying a long, sheathed sword on his hip. You monitor him carefully; his hands behind his back as he is gazing out into the treeline, he seems to be taking a stroll. But this deep within the forest?

You stalk him for a while, trailing his steps as you make sure to stay hidden. Too busy with staring at him you don't notice a branch on the ground, stepping on it and causing a loud *krack* sound.

The silver haired stranger turns around quickly, facing you and making eye contact. You know it's too late to hide now, as his lilac eye meets yours and a wicked smile forms on his lips

“Hello there, little one. Are you lost?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You say, looking him up and down more closely now. He doesn’t look like someone that should be wandering this deep into the forest. You notice the tell-tale signs of a Targaryen. You’ve heard of them and noticed a few children with these features when you explored the street of silk once. But who exactly was this man standing in front of you right now?

His mouth twitches, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I am not lost, little lamb. Simply having a nice stroll to take my mind off the stress of ruling. May I ask who I have the pleasure of finding so deep in the woods?”

“No, you may not.” You answer, staying wary of the stranger. You’re starting to connect the emblems on his clothes and scabbard with the ones you’ve seen on royal guards patrolling the city before, this man must be one of the princes. “You should leave. These woods aren’t a place for a pretty prince like you.”

“My, my, my. So confrontational. Why the defensiveness, my beautiful little lamb? Are you hiding something?” He steps closer to you, his voice now has a hint of danger in it.

“No one wanders this part of the woods. You’re better suited closer to the city.” You say, trying to sound more polite than before, quickly understanding the prince might not appreciate the disrespect.

“Ah, yes, no one wanders this part of the woods. Well, that only makes me wonder how a pretty little lamb like you got herself as deep in here as I did. Unless, of course, you are not alone.” His eye leaves yours, scanning along the tree line before stepping closer once again.

“Relax, this is no ambush. Unless you keep on intruding on my space, then it just might.” You say sternly, hoping to play into his paranoia and get him to leave quickly.

“I do so wish I could believe you, little lamb.” His eye still scans over the tree line as his hand falls to the hilt of his sword. “How do you expect me to relax when a beautiful girl like you is all alone in the woods? You couldn’t have gotten this far without help.”

“I have. You don’t think all that dirt and tools on me are for decoration, do you?” You say, gesturing to the axe tied to your belt, knifes dangling off the bag you carry that’s strung over your chest.

“And what exactly did I catch you doing all alone in the woods, little lamb?” His voice is firm now, eye narrowing as he takes a closer look at you, trying to judge you.

You remain quiet for a few moments before deciding to answer truthfully. “I live here.”

“You live here, little lamb?” His eye scans over you once more. “YOU live in the woods?” His voice is filled with equal measures of surprise and disbelief.

“I do.” You say affirmingly. “And I’m not fond of guests.”

“A woman alone in the wild? No man to protect her? No family?” His disbelief is evident in his voice and expression. “I cannot imagine how a beautiful woman like you has endured out here.”

Upset at his words, you feel anger starting to boil deep inside of you. Women in this time are still property to be owned, another reason why you decided to live out here, away from society. “Cut the feigned sympathy. I live just fine out here.”

“But is it really living, little lamb? Living in the wild? Surely a woman of your beauty must desire the comfort and luxuries of civilization. Do you feel no desire to start a family, to have someone care for you and protect you?” His tone seems kinder now, almost caring, although his disbelief is still clear and you cannot shake the feeling of danger coming from him.

Suspicious at his invasive nature you raise an eyebrow. “What is this? A tea party to exchange gossip?”

“Oh no, little lamb. You are a most fascinating creature and you have sparked my interest. I am merely trying to find out more about who you are.”

“I’m not interested in conversation-“

“Now, now, little lamb, we’ve come this far already. It wouldn’t be very polite to turn down a crown prince like this.” His eye narrows, an obvious predatory hint in his voice as his hand tightens on the hilt of his blade. “It’s appalling for a citizen to turn down their crown prince, my dear little lamb.”

You tighten your jaw, nervous at the sudden turn this situation has taken but unwilling to comply with his orders. “I am not a citizen of yours-“

“Everyone is a citizen of mine!” His words are soothing with anger as his patience has reached its limit and he pulls the blade from its sheath. “Now come closer little lamb. I’ll help you back to the city where you belong, where it’s safe.” He begins to stalk towards you, his dark gaze fixed upon you.

You take a few steps back before you turn around and start running, using the the fact you know these woods like no other to lure him away from where your home is before skillfully outmaneuvering him in the thick forest, hiding successfully in a small cave. The silver haired man tries to follow you, you can hear him yell profanities and curse words as he struggles to keep up with you, eventually getting caught up in the thicket and falling behind. "Damn you!" Aemond shouts as he breaks free of the branches and finds himself standing in a clearing with no sign of the little Lamb in sight. Where the hell did she go? Damn this forest. Damn her.

He inelegantly shoves his sword back into its casing, taking a last long look around the scenery before begrudgingly turning around to make his way back to the city.

The rest of his day is plagued by thoughts about her, remembering every single detail about his encounter with this strange, wild little Lamb. She lives in the woods all alone, with no one to care for her? Surely, he thinks to himself, no one would truly want to do that.

She did seem awfully skilled at maneuvering the trees and avoiding my chase. Could she truly be completely alone? He wonders, staring into the lit fireplace of his chambers, his finger mindlessly tapping along the rim of the almost drained cup in his hand. His interest in the little lamb was definitely piqued. He would venture out into the woods to find her again once his duties allowed him to.

time skip / two weeks have passed

Things went back to normal after the encounter with the stranger, you didn’t see him again, but you did make sure to be extra cautious about your surroundings at all times, avoiding all travelers for the time being.

You’re sitting on a boulder in the river, only your ankles in the water as you sharpen your axe using whet stones from the river while waiting for the fish you caught this morning to finish smoking. You’re deep in thoughts as when you notice an unusual rustling of leaves behind you and catch a glimpse of the familiar silver head through the trees.

Here we go again.

The silver haired man had been stalking the Kingswood once again as he had done for several days since he encountered the strange little Lamb the first time. Searching for any hints as to where she lived, so that he could go back and speak with her again.

His hope was running low when then he finally saw her again, sitting in the river, tending to her tools. His heart skipped multiple beats, he couldn’t quite explain why he felt like this.

Still, she is the only one this far into the woods. No one around to protect her, just like when he had met her last time. This woman was a mystery he was most eager to solve. He slowly and deliberately stalked over to her, taking great care to be as sneaky and quiet as possible.

Even though you had noticed him immediately you keep focusing on your tool, pretending you hadn't noticed him as he approaches, hiding behind the last tree that provides him with cover before he would have to step out into the open.

"What is it you want?" You ask after a while, your voice loud and clear while your eyes are still focused on the task at hand. His attempts to remain hidden are more amusing than anything else.

The man was startled but quickly covers his reaction with his typical demeanor, standing proud with his hands behind his back as he steps out of the tree line and approaches the mysterious beauty carefully, as if trying not to startle her. She had quite a sharp ear. Although, he should have known better. If this little lamb had survived by herself in the woods, hearing the noises of the trees and animals was a skill she must have honed greatly.

Once he’s only a few feet away he stops abruptly, contemplating his choice of words before he speaks in a friendly yet stern manner. "You are quite perceptive little Lamb."

He remains quiet for a while. You’re still focused on your tool, not looking up, as you probe him further. "Speak. I know you've been following me for a while."

“I was simply fascinated with your lifestyle after our last encounter, that is all." He comes a few steps closer, enough to look at her properly, but not so close as to make himself a threat. "Why do you live out here, by yourself? Away from civilization and society?"

"Because I wish to do so." You say, now leaning forward to wash off the freshly sharpened axe in the river water.

"But is there no other reason little Lamb? You do not get... lonely? You do not yearn for society or friends? This forest is cold, dark, and dangerous." The mans voice seems filled with what seems like genuine concern for your welfare.

"The forests seem like that only to those who aren't welcome in them." You say, now looking up at him for the first time this conversation. "What do I get out of sharing my life story with you?"

Aemond's eyebrow quirked slightly at your words. Your words were not aggressive but they were not exactly kind or welcoming either. „You get to answer your crown prince a few questions that have been gnawing on his mind for a while. Who could say it wouldn’t be worth it?”

“I could say. The less people know about me, the better. Easier to stay hidden that way.”

Aemond stays silent after she says that, thinking over her words in his head. Stay hidden from what? From whom? What could make her feel that she must remain hidden... "Tell me, my little Lamb. Who are you hiding from?" Perhaps after finding out that one thing, he can put this obsession to rest.

"Men like you." You answer, now shifting your attention back to your tools, reaching back into the river to fetch out another whet stone to sharpen a big knife now.

"Men like me?" His eye narrows. " I am no threat to you. What could possibly have led you to believe that? You are alone so deep in the woods and I have not shown you any hostility... yet."

"No hostility?" You say laughing. "Chasing me with your sword was what then? A local friendship ritual I’m not familiar with?"

"Oh, I was simply trying to get you to stop and talk to me. That is all." He says, a small smile gracing his lips at her words. He found her laughter quite endearing.

“Didn’t work very well now, did it?”

"No I suppose not," His smile grows slightly, he finds this strange little Lamb's demeanor quite intriguing. He was never great at interacting with women, but this one seemed comfortable in his company, at least somewhat. Even if she was also incredibly untrusting and suspicious of him, or of men in general. He looks at her intently, savouring her smile as he knows his next words will wipe it right off her face again.

“I want to know more about you. I will not leave until you tell me more.” He says and as predicted, her cheeky smile gets replaced with a frown again.

“I told you, I won’t-“ he interrupts her quickly, almost pleading with her, “I know, I know. But I need to know. I cannot rest at night. I will not tell anyone about you. Whatever you tell me, it will not have any consequences, I swear it.”

You sigh deeply, pondering his words. You couldn’t care less for telling your story, the possibility of sharing too much lingering in the back of your mind. Then again, perhaps this is just what you needed. Sharing a bit of your true self with someone after having to carefully craft a fake persona and uphold it for the past two years. “Fine then. What is it you want to know?”

His eyes light up at that statement as he takes his time deciding which one of his many questions he should ask first. “Your accent, it seems out of place. Are you not from here?”

You immedily begin to regret your decision to talk to him, struggling to find a way to phrase the truth in a way it doesn’t sound too outlandish. “No, I am not. I come from a land far away, you wouldn’t know it.”

“Did you come alone?”

“Sort of. I came here with others but they… forgot me. Or maybe they are just unable to return. I wouldn’t know.” You say, looking out into the flowing river as you remember.

“Forgot you? Why would your family just forget you?”

“They weren’t my family. They were… people I knew. We went here and they left, never to return, at least not until today. They probably told my family I died.” What had they told your family? You often wondered it. The changes of the seasons and moons made it easy for you to tell how much time had passed here, in this world. Did as much time pass back home? Was your family even informed of what truly happened or were they waiting back home for a sign of life that would never come, with no way of knowing your fate?

Aemond is quiet for a while, processing this information. “How long have you been here?”

“I’ve been here two winters already, the coming one will be my third.”

“THAT long?” He blurts out, mind racing. “You have survived here alone all this time, out in this forest, with no family or friends? How?”

A slight smile tugs at the corner of your lips, amused by his disbelief. “Yes, I have. I’m friendly with some of the farmers around here and some merchants. I was fortunate, really, that I was stranded here with a few tools and a bit of money.”

“That could not have been enough to make you survive here. The winters can be hard, as can be nature itself. I don’t know a single woman that would be able to survive like this even with all the tools in the world.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You shrug. This is your normal, all you knew for most of your life, you often forget just how unusual it really is. “I come from a family of farmers. We lived far out, away from civilization, and I learned a lot about nature that way. I am, or was, my parents only child. I spend many years of my childhood in the forest with my dad. He was an avid fisher and knew all the ways around the forest, while my mom taught me all about her knowledge of herbs. She was a healer of sorts.”

Your smile returns as she recalls all her fond memories of home. Oh, how you wished you’d never left the farm. “They bred, trained, and sold horses too. I was strapped to a saddle on my own horse before I could even walk.”

His face shifts from one of shock to one of sympathy. He could tell by your words and the tone your voice takes that you missed home dearly. “And you have no way back?”

“No.” You state plainly. Do you? Truthfully, you do not know, but you surely hope you do.

“Why? If I give you coin for passage, can you go back home?”

“I’m afraid its not that easy.” You huff, struggling to make up an answer to this question. “Unless they come get me, I have no way back. I… I’m done talking about this.” You say, now shaking your head.

He wants to press further but understands he shouldn’t, not if he’d like to keep you talking. “Well then… What are you planning to do here then? You can’t just stay out here forever.”

“Why not?” You conter. “I’ve gotten comfortable out here. I know my way around the woods and can survive quite well out here. I’ve come to appreciate my little life out here quite a lot, actually.”

“Is this really life or is this survival? What about finding a family of your own, what about children?”

You sigh deeply. “I may not have answers to all those questions yet, but I do now I’m content here for now. I have no duties here, no bills to worry about. I just need to figure out my next meal and get to enjoy nature the rest of the time with all the peace and quiet it offers me.”

The change of topic strikes a chord in you, one you didn’t realise was as sensitive as it seems to be. The prospect of having to live out the rest of your days in this time is one that seemed more and more realistic and the question of what you would actually do for the next twenty, forty, sixty years of your life was one burning in the back of your mind more and more frequently.

“I’m done talking for today. You may leave now.” You dismissed the prince, frustration growing inside you.

He is not happy about this, his expression shows this as much as the tone of his voice. “Leave? I just arrived. You can’t just send me away.”

“I do not wish to tell any more stories.” You state. Just as he begins to talk again you turn to face him quickly, looking at him for a few seconds before proposing a compromise. Maybe you just needed some time to gather your thoughts and calm the inner turmoil you can feel bubbling deep inside your chest right now. “How about this: If you can find me again, I will answer you more questions. Anything you want.”

His jaw clenches as he lets out a long sigh. This is not how he wanted this conversation to end but he could tell from her expression that she seemed exhausted and the prospect of getting to ask anything he wanted seemed tempting enough to agree. “Fine then. I will seek you out again soon, but I will not rest until I have all my answers. You must swear you will not avoid me again.”

“I swear it.” You answer, a reassuring smile on your lips. “Have a safe travel back, my prince.”

She had been speaking so freely all this time that hearing her address him properly caught him off guard for a moment. He stands still in place, watching her a bit longer, before begrudgingly turning around to leave after bidding a small goodbye.

As he walks away you turn around slightly, watching the swaying of his silver hair until it disappears completely between the trees. A long, deep sigh escapes your lips as you resume your tasks for the day, thinking about all the questions he asked and what you really wanted from your life now.

You were honest, you did love your life as it was now, but sometimes the solitude did get to you as well. A craving for the love and closeness your family had brought you. As much as you cursed the prince when you had first met him, maybe having his attention on you could be a good thing after all.

He thought his mind would be calmed after speaking to her but to his dismay, the opposite had happened. His head is filled with questions still and worse so, genuine worry about her wellbeing. Yes, his little lamb had survived well by herself, but the confirmation that she was truly alone out there was deeply unsettling to him. When he is laying in bed that night, he realised just how little he knew about her. He didn’t know where she lived – did she have a house or did she sleep under the stars? He had never even asked her name. What would it be? If she is from far away, it surely was exotic.

He keeps tossing and turning that night, the picture of her smiling face filling his mind, even more so when he closes his eye, as if he can see even clearer when the world isn’t distracting him. He tries to sleep but he swears he hears her laugh, still as clear and comforting as it had been when he heard it the first time. A sound so sweet it could lull him to sleep, if only there wasn’t the gaping emptiness next to him, reminding him of your absence, of the fact you’re all alone out there. If something happened to you tonight, would he ever find out? He could not bear the thought of it.

His night stays restless. He falls asleep again and again, dreaming vividly about the way your cheeks rounded when you smiled at him, about the freckles on your nose, the small dimples that appeared under your cheeks when you smiled and over your lips when you pursed your lips in dismay at another thing he said.

It was improper, he knew that much. For a prince, the heir to the throne, to be so enchanted by a forest dweller. Nevertheless, his heart skipped a beat every time he had laid his eyes on her. His mind went back to think about all your interactions at every chance it got, even in the midst of important meetings. He was a devoted and proper man; he knew better and yet, something about her felt so fundamentally right that a future without her seemed wrong.

When the first rays of sunshine broke though his windows he had made his decision. He would go to see her again and this time, he would not leave her behind. He could not. He will find her and bring her – well, where? Somewhere, anywhere he knows she is safe, where he knows he can find her whenever he wants to see her. He will figure it all out, he will find a way to make this work.

His feet soon carry him through the castle, unaware of where he is going until he finds himself in front of two wooden doors. The kings, his brothers, chambers.

Currently editing the next part, that one will be 18+! Second series about Aemond x reader coming soon as well (currently proof reading chapter one)!

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #possessive aemond #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #dark aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #dark aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen

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peachessndreamss · 11 months ago

Text

Filled With Grace

Summery : High Septon Aemond request a private audience with a hight born lady the night before her wedding.

Characters : High Septon! Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Warnings : Dub Con, power imbalance, coercion, heavy religious themes & behaviors, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, unprotected p in v sex, corruption, loss of virginity, dacryhilia (if you squint), alcohol consumption, cannon divergent

Word count : 8 k

A/N : No one asked for this but it happened, also sorry in advance, sorry for what? sorry for everything. While English is my first language I'm also profoundly dyslexic, I've done my best to minimise spelling and grammar issues but I'm there still are plenty.

When Aemond Targaryen lost his eye he thought the worst of it was the scar but it turned out in the days and weeks after the incident, the cost kept mounting. Finding his father couldn’t look at him had been hard to take and they no longer spent the evenings together reading the histories, studying the great campaigns of ancient kings and speaking high Valeryian.

The last time his father truly looked at him was the night he sat the boy Aemond down and told him he was going into the service of the Seven. With his injury he could no longer be trusted to defend his brother’s weaker side in battle or in Kingship, and so it had been decided by the small council that he would be handed over to the Septons and be trained in the Faith. He was sent across the city and into the tall towers of Baelor's Great Sept.

When he wasn’t in training, or studying he would sit by the window and stare back across to the Red Keep, where his family continued to live their lives without him.

In the early days there was heartbreak, longing and grief, as Aemond spent more time at the Sept the pain turned to anger, his heart hardened and his soul blackened. Still as studious as ever he studied hard, learnt the words and the rituals and felt nothing.

At the age of 20 he moved back across the city, back into the Red Keep as the self-styled High Septon of the Red Keep. Despite his outward devotion to the Faith he opted to keep the name his family had given him, he believed his injury and his family’s reaction had stolen enough from him but they would not take his name.

In the 7 years that followed his return Aemond had manoeuvred himself from returning outcast to centre of all courtly life. His mother, who ruled in his sickly fathers place, relied on him constantly, looking to him for guidance in both spiritual and worldly matters and while he didn’t sit on the Small Council nothing happened in the room that he wasn’t already aware of.

He was the beating heart and soul of the Red Keep, the spiritual leader who blessed and condemned as he saw fit. He quickly learned his religious titles protected him from suspicion, so when a body turned up in the Red Keep with a broken neck or floating in the bay he was above reproach, regardless of any known animosities or feuds. He learnt being irreproachable had many benefits and he began to explore the possibilities now open to him.

Aemond was 23 years old the first time he'd had a high born maiden come to him before her wedding night, the first time had been less about the pleasures of the flesh and more about pushing the boundaries of the Lady who’d come to him as a willing sacrifice. The first time taught him that silence could be bought with loyalty and the promise of absolution, and if those two things weren’t enough, he always had fear.

Aemond occupied the highest tower of the Red Keep, three floors of round rooms stacked one on top the other. The lowest level was his Sept where the faithful came for his blessings, confession, where his mother lit candles and prayed and where she would ask him to translate the signs and symbols she saw everywhere and claimed were messages from the Gods.

The second floor were his audience rooms, official rooms where he might entertain visiting Septon’s or Lords who felt themselves in particular need of spiritual guidance.

The highest level was Aemond’s personal chambers, kept in semi-darkness at all times, the stone walls were dressed in rich tapestries and the large bed hung with blood red curtains. This was his innermost sanctum, the space that bore witness to Aemond’s true self and was the place he brought the high born Lady’s before their wedding day.

Tonight the room was set for such an event. The fire was burning in the hearth but all other lights had been extinguished. Goblets of deep red wine were sitting on the table, as well as a plate of sweets and cakes, in case she had a sweet tooth. Aemond knew the Lady who'd be visiting tonight, she'd been fostered at the Red Keep since her 12th name day and had grown up under the watchful eye of queen Alicent. Tomorrow she would marry Lord Tullly and the day after she would leave the Red Keep forever to take up her new role as lady of Riverrun, but tonight she belonged to him.

The knock on her chamber door was quiet but unmistakable, it helped that the lady had been waiting for it. Sitting at her dressing table, her back ramrod straight while trying to make sense of her flickering reflection in the warped surface of the mirror. Tomorrow was her wedding day, but tonight she had an audience with High Septon Aemond.

When she had first come to the Red Keep she had been under the protection of Queen Alicent, who she had followed around like a lost lamb until she was 15 and had been passed into the service of her daughter, Helaena, who she had served as a handmaiden while she waited for her father to broker a good enough marriage deal.

The deal had now been struck, the payments made and contracts for lands, livestock and men signed and sealed. All that was left was the wedding and due to her close status to the royal family, no expense was spared, her wedding gown had been trimmed with silver and gold threads and beaded with thousands of tiny river pearls. She had wept the first time she’d seen it from the sheer beauty of the garment and after that moment she had willed every day to pass faster so she could wear it.

The High Septon of the Red Keep called all high born brides to his tower the night before their weddings, and while the reason was never overtly discussed, the older ladies of the Red Keep would share knowing looks and speak in innuendo around the younger ladies, lording their superior knowledge and understanding over the young and naive.

But she had found by listening carefully both to the older women of the court and the giggling gossip of the serving women she’d come to the conclusion that she would be expected to give a private confession to the High Septon. Confession was usually a fairly private matter, with all people of all status expected to unburden themselves to their Septons but without further clarity she was left wondering what made these pre-wedding confessions something so hushed up and rarely talked of.

“Enter” she called softly, turning from her reflection toward the door.

A small serving girl stepped into the room, dressed in the same drab dress as all the other serving women and her hair covered with a square of the same fabric, she looked as indistinct as any other of the small folk serving in the Red Keep.

“High Septon Aemond ‘as asked to see you, milady,” the serving girl said softly, her eyes cast downward as she spoke, “I'm t’take you to ‘im,”.

The lady nodded and stood from the stool at her dressing table, she had known the summons were coming and so she’d not undressed from that night's celebration dinner. She was still wearing a deep blue silk gown, edged with silver threads and her hair was still twisted in its elaborate crown braid that had taken over an hour to arrange.

While the dress and the hair were elaborate, they were still modest enough for the act of contrition she assumed she was going too.

The serving girl stepped back and turned, moving silently down the corridor and the lady followed, wishing her own steps were as silent as they moved through the dark building, even in her silk slippers she could hear her footsteps and the swish of the fabric of her dress.

Despite living in the red keep for almost 10 years she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd been in the same room as Aemond Targaryen, he didn't waste his time on high born ladies under normal circumstances. The only women he ever seemed to speak with were his mother and his sister, she couldn’t be sure she’s ever even met his gaze, let alone have spoken with him.

At the foot of the high tower the serving girl opened a heavy door and led them up a tightly twisting set of stairs. They passed two doors on the twisting staircase before they reached the top and the final door. The serving girl knocked twice before melting back into the darkness of the stairwell.

A voice from within bid her enter and with trembling hands she pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold.

The room was so dark it took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust, still barely able to make out the shapes in the darkness but a rustle of fabric and a small movement drew her eye and from the blackness he appeared.

He didn’t wear Septon’s robes, instead he dressed every inch the royal son he was, in tight black trousers and a black high collared tunic, he was covered from neck to toe in tight black fabric that looked as close to his body as his own skin. His silver hair was tied back from his face and he wore a patch over his ruined eye. His good eye fixed on her, the indigo of it lost in the darkness so that it appeared to be a blackhole instead.

“My Lady,” he greeted, bowing deeply before straightening up and fixing his gaze on her face.

“Your Royal Highness,” she replied, dipping her knees in a curtsey, averting her eyes from his face, “I am your servant,” she added.

He moved toward her, his steps slow and deliberate, immediately the image of a stalking predator came to mind and her heartbeat quickened.

“Will you sit?” he asked, indicating the two chairs set close to the fire, a low table between them holding two filled wine goblets and a plate of small fruit tarts, the exact same that would be served at her wedding banquet tomorrow.

“If it pleases,” she replied, moving toward the chairs and stepping into the circle of flickering light cast by the fire.

“It does,” Aemond replied, taking the seat nearest to where he was standing and furthest from the light. He relaxed deeply into the seat, crossing one ankle over the other knee, one of his long arms stretching away from his body and toward the table, the tips of his fingers caressing the thin stem of the wine glass.

She followed his lead and sat, keeping her back straight and tall, crossing her feet at the ankles under the full skirts of her dress and letting her legs fall together against the arm of the chair in the way she'd been taught since she was old enough to sit in the company of others.

“Eat and drink, if you like,” Aemond said softly, despite the softness in his tone the invitation felt dangerous.

But she had been raised in the Queen’s household and had impeccable manners, she offered him a small smile and thanked him before lifting the goblet to her lips and taking a small sip. The wine was rich and strong, the scent of it alone causing her head to spin.

Aemond never took his eye from her, taking in the details of this high lady who he planned to bring so low. He noted the gloss on her lips from the wine, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she fought to master her heartbeat and the wide eyed look of fear on her pretty face which went straight between his thighs and caused his cock to strain against his trousers.

“Do you know why you’re here my Lady?” Aemond asked after she’d shakily returned the wine glass to the table.

“For confession?” she replied, her eyes flicking toward his face for a second before looking away again after meeting his burning gaze.

“To confess,” Aemond agreed, “and to meet with god,” he added softly, running his long fingers up the stem of the wine glass and cupping the curve of the bowl before bringing it to his mouth and taking a drink.

Aemond took a slow drink, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip before taking a shallow breath and placing the goblet back down on the table. The silence in the room was heavy, it deafened and roared at the same time and she was acutely aware of the sounds of her breathing and pounding heart.

“My Lady, the hour is late,” Aemond spoke, “why are you still dressed for banqueting?”

She glanced down at herself, the silver beads and stitching of the deep blue dress caught in the flickering fire light and she could feel every place the fabric touched her body.

“I didn’t want to be in a state of undress when you called for me, my Prince,” she replied.

Aemond chuckled softly, “So you knew you’d be summoned to me tonight?” he mused, “and how did you know?”.

In that moment she could have bitten her own tongue off to avoid saying anything further, how could she tell the truth without causing trouble for herself and the other ladies in waiting, gossip was considered below them, despite the fact that it made up a good majority of their days.

“It’s known,” she started before her voice stalled, she squirmed in her seat under the heat of his gaze, “that’s to say, some of the other ladies who’ve been married have mentioned they had a private audience with you,”.

Aemond nodded, while he outwardly gave no sign, he was privately elated, the more that people whispered and told stories of him the more they would fear him and the more power he would have over them. He would have to try and learn the details of the gossip and whispers, and if necessary change the narrative.

“I trust that what passes between us tonight will stay between us?” he asked, taking another drink, enjoying the rich and heady taste.

“Of course my Prince,” she agreed readily and he nodded.

A silence fell between them again, if she strained her ears she could just hear the sounds of the city, as distant as a dream from the covered windows. She dragged her attention back to the man in the room and she looked at him from under her lashes, not wanting to get caught staring. The flickering firelight cast his features in strong relief, his jaw and cheekbones looked like twin blades edging his face.

“In the eyes of the Gods,” Aemond started, his indigo eye fixed on the fire, “we’re born naked, we live naked and we die naked. They see and hear all of our sins, even the sins we never speak of, or act on, they know them and they judge us for them. We are never beyond the sight of the Gods,”.

“Of course, High Septon Aemond,” she replied, choosing to use his religious title as she felt the subtle change in him as he went from prince entertaining a guest to High Septon preparing for holy work.

“And while they sit in judgement of us, I have the power to forgive sins, to wipe clean the slate of any man or woman who is willing to ask for forgiveness,”.

Aemond turned his eye to her, catching her watching him, his gaze burning.

“My Lady,” Aemond turned his face from the fire toward her, “are you willing to ask for forgiveness tonight? To confess your sins and be cleansed?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I will,”.

He took a deep breath and nodded, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Then stand, my Lady, and you will confess as the God’s see you,” he paused for a tense second, “naked,”.

A chill ran up her spine despite the heat of the fire. Although she had expected to be called to him she had not known what he would want when she was there, she’d had no idea he’d expect her to undress, and if he expected that what else might he expect?

“My Prince, this gown is difficult to remove,” she spoke quickly, her heart thumping in her chest, “I’m sure the God’s will understand if I remain clothed,”.

“Stand,” Aemond commanded, and as if touched by a white hot poker she jumped from the seat and stood like marble, her eyes fixed on the prince.

“Gowns can be removed, repaired if necessary,” he said as he stood and stalked toward her, pulling a small blade from a concealed pocket at his hip, “your confession will not be complete unless you are as you were born,”.

He moved toward her and with a single strong shove he pushed the heavy chair she’d been sitting in out of the way and brought himself behind her. His breath was warm on the back of her neck, his left hand caressed her left arm.

“Please, my Prince,” she whispered as she sensed the movement of the right hand which held the blade.

He took a steadying breath before sliding the blade beneath the silk ribbon that held the back of the dress closed, with only a little pressure the blade slipped through each twist of silver silk and the dress began to open, exposing the bright white shift underneath. She had made a small sound of protest but had gone silent. While the blade never touched the thin fabric of her shift she could feel the coolness of the metal and imagine the sharpness of the blade.

The prince dropped the blade and used both his hands to pull the gown wider and push it off her shoulders, the weight of the skirt and the beading of the bodice dragged it down, slipping down her arms and off her hands. It landed in a pool of deep, glittering blue around her calves.

“Better,” Aemond breathed, stepping back a little and admiring her trembling body.

“If it pleases you,” she had to fight to keep her voice calm, tears pricked at her eyes and burned in the back of her throat.

Perhaps this would be as far as he took it, perhaps this was bear enough for him. Perhaps she could confess in her underclothes and be gone, but she only believed this for a second as she felt him take two strong handfuls of the neck of her shift and rip them viciously apart.

The soft fabric gave easily and ripped clearly down the middle, exposing her back and buttocks to him, again he gave the garment a soft shove over her shoulders and watched as it fell around her legs, landing on top of her gown like a blanket of snow.

“Oh it pleases me a great deal,” he said, stepping around her, caressing her arm as he came to stand in front of her, letting his eye travel up and down her body.

He took hold of her hand and lifted it before giving her a gentle tug, unable to disobey, she stepped forward out of the mess of fabric and further into the golden light of the fire. The only thing she wore now were the soft silk slippers.

Aemond studied her, the curve of her hips and buttocks, the softness of her stomach, the swell of her breasts that were topped with nipples several shades darker than her skin. As he watched gooseflesh crawled across her body, tightening her nipples into tight little points that he longed to reach out and pinch. SHe kept her face turned down and Aemond was transfixed by the curve of her cheek and the spiky shadows of her eyelashes.

She felt as if his gaze was burning and freezing her at the same time, every part of her body was exposed to him and he looked at her without shame. No man had ever seen her in such a state. She had been taught her nakedness was for her husband and for him alone but now she was being looked on by her High Septon, her prince, and his eyes were devouring her body, claiming something that shouldn’t belong to him.

“You are the Maiden incarnate,” he whispered as he dropped her hand and brought his fingertips to her chin. Lifting her head so he could look at her face. Though she still fought them she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes or the tremble in her bottom lip.

“You might look like Her,” he started, his eye flicking to a small image of the Maiden he kept by the fire before returning his gaze to her, “but you are only human and therefore a sinner,” Aemond added with a sigh, as if disappointed to remember the woman before him was human and not divine, “so kneel,”.

“My Prince?” she questioned, the humiliation was already beyond what she thought she could survive but apparently he had more in his heart.

“Confession is given on your knees,” he explained calmly, “and so you must kneel,” he moved his hand from her chin to her shoulder, where he applied gentle pressure.

She allowed her knees to bend and buckle beneath her, dropping onto the thick carpet. Aemond felt his cock throb as her breasts bounced with the impact, he fought the intense and dark urge to force his cock into her mouth, instead he took a deep breath and placed his hand on the top of her head.

“Under the watchful eye of the seven, I hear your confession,”.

Aemond spoke the words he learned as a boy during his time in the High Sept. Confession had already fascinated him as a child and he’d hardly dared believe that people would willingly tell him the darkest secrets of their hearts.

“Under the watchful eye of the Seven, I give my confession,” she choked out, words she’d learnt as a small child and said hundreds of times in her life before now, but never like this.

“I, I confess to having cruel thoughts about others,” her voice cracked as she repeated another line she’s said a hundred times before to Septon after Septon. Aemond, with his eye closed and his hand still resting on the top of her head nodded.

“Go on,”.

“And I’ve told lies,”

“And, and, and,” she stumbled over her words, “I confess to having impure thoughts about men at court,”.

Aemond felt a throb between his thighs, this is what he’d been hoping for.

“What thoughts my lady?”.

“Thoughts of what it would be like to couple with them,”.

Aemond nodded benevolently and opened his eye, his gaze soft and loving as he watched the woman on her knees.

“That’s to be expected, as a bride in waiting,”.

“This is my confession,” she whispered.

The tears in her eyes blurred her vision but she nodded, her resolve strengthened now she’d done what he’d asked. Aemond nodded again and closed his eye, turning his face upward and addressing the air above their heads.

“The watchful eye of the Seven have heard your confession and I, High Septon Aemond Targaryen of the Red Keep, forgive your sins,”.

She gave out a shuddering breath as a tear slowly tracked down her cheek. She had survived, she had done as she was told and she was forgiven her sins.

His hand moved from the top of her head and he offered it to her, she took it and allowed him to support her back to her feet. She couldn't look at his face but instead her eyes focused on the floor at his feet. Again he moved his fingertips to her chin and lifted her face.

“You did very well my Lady,” he said softly as he stroked his finger down the curve of her cheek. Despite the warmth from the fire his fingers were like ice on her skin, “and now, you will take God inside you,”.

Her brows furrowed in confusion as a chill ran down her spine. Surely he couldn’t be talking about bedding her? Looking at her naked body was one thing but to give her maidenhead to him the night before her wedding was unthinkable but before she could voice any resistance he gently took her hand and led her toward the bed.

She moved as he directed her, unwilling but unable to resist him. The bed loomed, dark and foreboding in the centre of the room, she’d been able to ignore it up until now. As they moved closer she noticed the hangings and the coverings were a deep blood red, edged with black.

Aemond brought them to the foot of the bed, placing her so the back of her knees knocked against the bedframe and the plush bed sheets brushed against the bare backs of her thighs.

Aemond stroked her cheek again before brushing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.

“You've got nothing to be scared of my Lady, don't you want to know the Gods in the most intimate way possible?”.

“Please my Lord,” she whispered, “l mean, I- I mean, my Prince,Your Highness, please,” she stumbled over her words, them coming out in a confused rush.

“Don't worry about titles now, Maiden,” he whispered, leaning his face close to her, letting his lips brush against her cheek, “tonight you can call me God,”.

She turned her head to look in his face, catching sight of one beautiful indigo eye before his lips crashed into hers in a bruising kiss. One of Aemond’s hands slipped up her back and held her at the base of her skull as the other wrapped around her naked waist, his cold hand resting on the small of her back. He pulled her tighter to his body, feeling the hard press of her soft skin through the leather and linen of his clothes.

Aemond licked his tongue along the line of her lips, desperate to taste her mouth, would the richness of the wine still linger on her tongue or would he be able to taste her fear? He broke away from her kiss and gazed down at her, noticing the tears in her pretty eyes and the wobble of her soft bottom lip.

“Give yourself to me,” he whispered, ��submit to me, and be filled with grace,”.

She whimpered softly, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She felt nothing but fear, a clawing, ripping terror that started in her guts and filled every inch of her, she felt as if she opened her mouth to speak pitch black tar would come bubbling out of her throat.

There was immediate fear, what Aemond could do to her if she didn't give him what he wanted and there was the future fear, of the following night and her new husband finding her no longer the maiden he'd been promised.

Despite the fear, Aemond's words awakened something else inside her, a pinprick of excitement in the doom, a flickering flame of need in the darkness of terror. Aemond’s grip on the back of her head tightened, her eyes focused on his face again, she found him beautiful and terrible.

“Submit,” he said again softly before touching a kiss to her still closed mouth, “submit,” he breathed again, the sound barely audible above the thumping of the blood in her ears.

The quiet word sounded like a prayer, even though he held all the power in the few seconds after the soft plea had fallen from his lips she felt completely in control, she could deny him and walk away without further incident but she didn’t want to. She wanted to submit, she needed to give herself to him, her body and soul demanded it of her.

“I submit, my Prince,” she replied, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

Aemond brought his mouth back to hers and kissed her again, there was less aggression now and when he tightened his hold on her body there was a thrill of pleasure, like a seam of gold in the bedrock of her terror.

He ran his tongue along her lips again and this time she parted her mouth and felt his tongue slip against hers instantly. Without thought she felt herself grip at the arm he had wrapped around her body, her fingers gripping vivaciously at the sleeve of his coat, feeling the strong and lean arm under the fabric.

As her fingers gripped him Aemond groaned into her mouth, feeling his cock throbbing against the lacing of his breeches, the press of her soft body was no longer enough, he needed to take her.

He broke away from her mouth, his gaze focusing on her heaving breasts and the saliva coating her lips. His own heart was pounding and he felt like the room was spinning around him and she was the only steady point.

“Lie down,” he instructed.

She obeyed without hesitation, needing to do nothing but let herself drop down onto the mattress and lay her head back on the plush coverlet. Aemond’s gaze moved up and down her body, from the silk slippers still covering her feet, up her shapely legs to their apex where her sex was hidden by a thatch of curly hair. Further up her stomach to her breasts and their aching hard nipples, her throat and the curve of her jaw all the way to the top of her head where the crown of hair was coming loose.

Aemond moved directly between her legs, he bent and wrapped his hands behind her knees, yanking her forward so her bottom rested just at the edge of the bed. He kept her knees lifted and pushed her thighs high and further apart. Splitting open the lips of her cunt, exposing the glistening folds of her womanhood.

She was totally transfixed by him, and from her position below him light cast his features in even sharper relief. It was easy to believe that he was a God, surely no mere mortal could look like him.

As he stared between her legs he made a groaning sound from deep in his chest.

“Hold your legs, Maiden,” he said softly.

She replaced his hands with her own, keeping her sex exposed to him. There was an ache between her legs now that seemed to start somewhere deep within her lower belly and her body was acting and reacting in ways she'd never experienced before. Aemond's hands went to the laces at the front of his breeches, working quickly to loosen them and allow him to free his cock.

With a soft moan he pulled the hard muscle free, squeezing it at the root and watching as a bead of pearly white fluid appeared at the tip.

He stepped forward, pressing the length of his shaft between the soaked lips of her cunt, smearing himself in her arousal. She gasped at the contact, having never felt anything between her legs apart from her own fingers before this moment.

His cock was hot, smooth and hard as he moved it between her lips and she felt her whole body awaken at the feeling of the blunt head of his cock touching the hardened pearl between her legs.

Aemond watched with fascination as she reacted to his ministrations on her body. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell into a pretty O shape, Aemond felt his cock pulse with desire and he longed to see how many more reactions he could draw out of her untouched body.

The two of them were now soaked in her arousal, the hair between her legs glistening with wetness in the flickering fire light.Aemond took a steadying breath as he angled his cock at her tight entrance.

“Be filled with grace,” his voice was like a prayer as he finally pressed forward and pushed inside her.

She gasped at the sudden feeling of stretching and pressure, it was nothing like she'd felt before and in a flash the arousal seemed to disappear and the fear was back, gripping her like a vice and making it hard to breathe.

“Don't fight,” Aemond hissed, “submit,”.

She took a steadying breath, her eyes fixed on his face as he stared between their body’s, at the place the two of them were becoming one. After the initial pain and resistance she found her body wanting to welcome him, she found her cunt pulling at him hungrily and willingly changing to accept him inside her.

Once Aemond was resting deeply inside her he gave a shuddering breath. He couldn't hear anything but the pounding of blood in his ears and he could see nothing but the place where their bodies were joined.

“We are one, Maiden,” he said softly, looking up at her face and finding her watching him, a single tear escaping her eyes as he pushed another inch forward, finding her body yielding and vice-like in its grip.

“Don't weep,” he said, reaching forward and wiping the tear away from her eyes, “you are one with the Gods now,”.

Aemond gathered the tear on his thumb and brought the drop of liquid to his mouth, sucking it off the tip of his thumb. He brought his wet thumb down between their bodies and brushed it against the swollen pearl that peeked out from between her soaked lips. He could feel the tight channel of her cunt squeezing around him at the contact and a small moan slipped between her soft lips.

Slowly he began to move his hips in a slow, grinding motion. He wanted to stay as deeply rooted within her body as he could but he desperately wanted to bring her pleasure. To share with her the religious experience he was chasing. He ground his hips forward and used his thumb to swipe and stroke at her pearl.

Her whole body was on fire, every part of her mind, her body and her soul was suddenly awakened with pleasure. She moaned and immediately felt a deep shame at the sound. Aemond could sense the sudden shift in her and he looked at her face.

“Don't hide your sounds, my Maiden, they are prayers and I want to hear them,”.

After that, any sense of shame melted away, how could there be shame between them now? He had heard her confession and now he shared her body. There was no longer space for shame. The pleasure began to build and a deep groan moved through her body and filled the room as she gave into the pleasure.

Aemond changed from grinding to short, sharp thrusts, pistoning his hips and moving his cock in and out, the movements made easy by the arousal that slicked between their legs, spreading over her thighs. Her eyes widened and the grip behind her knees tightened as the pleasure inside her reached a fever pitch. She moaned loudly, thrashing her head against the bed, her eyes closing tightly.

“Submit to it, Maiden,” Aemond moaned as he felt her body tightening around him, “submit and feel God,”.

With his words she gave her body and mind over to the sensations, the knot that tightened within her belly and the tingling in her fingers and toes, every inch of her skin felt tight and hot and then suddenly, like a dam breaking, there was nothing but bliss.

The muscles of her stomach and thighs clenching, the tightening being echoed by the gripping tightness of her cunt around Aemond’s cock. Her blood felt like it was on fire as it raced around her body, burning her alive. Time seemed to stop and her body no longer felt physical, she had passed beyond physical and was now made of stars.

Aemond followed her into bliss with a deep groan and a final deep and shuddering thrust, pressing himself as deep inside her as possible before spilling his seed.

Panting and trembling, Aemond leaned forward, bringing his body over hers for the first time and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Still dazed she looked at him, through the haze of pleasure he could have been mistaken for an angel, she expected him to kiss her again but instead he straightened up and withdrew from her body. Tucking his wet, soft cock back into his breeches before roughly tightening the laces.

Aemond went to the door of his chambers and opened them, letting the serving girl who brought her here inside.

“Take her back to her room, repair her dress and stay with her all night,” he spoke quickly and firmly, the only outward sign of his recent activities was the slightly pink flush to his cheeks and the sweat gathered at his hairline.

“In the morning, make sure you stay with her,” he added, glancing back at the woman still naked on his bed, her chest still heaving and her eyes still unfocused.

“I must go to my Sept,” he finished before moving out of the room and down the winding staircase.

The serving girl brought a large, soft blanket to the bed and encouraged the lady to sit up, her hair was a mess, half fallen out of its elaborate style. She wrapped the blanket around the lady and drew it closed over her chest.

“‘ere milady,' she said softly, “so you don’ get cold,”.

The serving girl gathered up the ruined dress and the slip before returning to the bed and helping her to her feet. The lady was unsteady on her feet and was shocked back to reality by the pain between her legs.

She brought one hand to her mouth in horror, holding the blanket tightly around her body.

“What have I done?” She whispered, glancing back at the bed.

“Come on my lady,” the serving girl said softly, “let's get you back to your rooms,”.

She followed the serving girl out of the room and down the winding staircase. The stone was icy cold on her silk slippered feet and the chill moved up her legs, quickly turning her whole body to ice. At the bottom of the final turn she stopped outside the door to Aemonds Sept, through the door the sound of his prayers were just audible. She placed her hand on the door, going to push it open but the serving girl placed her hand over the lady's.

“We must go,” she urged.

The serving girl led her back to her rooms, managing to avoid any other living being in the red keep. Back in the safety of her rooms she helped the lady into her bed, her naked body slipping between the soft sheets.

“Sleep, milady,” the serving girl said, “I'll be ‘ere in the morning to help you get ready,”. She closed her eyes and without another thought she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Aemond knelt at his altar all night, the sun was creeping over the city when he finally opened his eye and unclasped his hands. A great deal of his religious devotion was for show, he felt almost nothing for the faith and used it only to manipulate those around him to his will. But after a night with a highborn maiden he often felt the need to unburden his soul.

He would not attend the wedding of his Maiden and Lord Tully, the ceremony would take place at Baelor's sept and the feast in the great hall. He wouldn't be expected to attend and he assumed his mother would pay him a visit after the festivities to fill him in on his brother's behaviour. He stood slowly from his altar to the Maiden, the candle he'd lit when he'd entered the night before was gutting and spitting as it gave its final flickers before going out, the wick drowning in a pool of its own wax.

Somewhere below the walls of the Red Keep a bell began to toll, waking the city and signalling the start of a new day. Aemond left his Sept, closing the door tightly behind him, he took the winding stairs back to his private rooms. The wine glasses and the plate of sweets were still on the table and the coverlet on the bed was rucked up from his Maidens thrashing and keening.

He could have knelt at the foot of the bed and placed his face where her arousal had soaked the fabric, he could smell the intimate musk of her body and let him become lost in memories.

He made to move toward the bed but there was a barely audible knock on the door, Aemond turned toward the door instead and called the visitor in.

His serving girl stepped into the room and closed the door silently behind herself. She was the only person in the Red Keep Aemond trusted without question.

“Milady slept fitfully, asked for you when she woke and has now been taken by ‘er mother and sisters to be washed and dressed,” she reported, her eyes focused on her feet.

“Thank you,” he replied, a cold distance in his voice.

“If you ‘ave no further need of me, Lord, I’ll be gone,'.

Aemond nodded and the girl left without another word or sound. Aemond took to his seat beside the fire, he drew a glass of red wine from the decanter on the table and drank deeply, scowling at the flames as they danced in the grate.

Some hours later the bell in the Great Sept rang out, a loud booming sound that travelled through the hot air across the city and out into the bay beyond. Underneath the tolling bell the bride stood as if made of stone, the only indication she was flesh and blood were the tears streaming down her cheeks.

The bride groom kept glancing at her nervously, was she weeping with joy? Unlikely he reasoned, was it sadness to be leaving the home she's known most of her life? Or was it fear of the night to come? He'd heard from his older, married brothers that virgin's could be fearful and unwilling on their wedding nights; he hoped he'd give a good showing of himself for her first experience of the marriage bed. After all, he'd never had any complaints before.

After the sun had set on the heaving city and the wedding feasting and drinking were done the newly weds were finally alone in their bridal chamber. The room was awash with light from torches and a blazing fire, the bed was made up in Tully colours and food and drink set out on a small table by the open window. She waited at the end of the bed for him, sitting with her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes turned down and the skin of her face tight and sore from the tears she’d been unable to stem.

Her new husband drank deeply from a wine goblet by the window, he was dressed in only his long white linen shirt and black leather riding boots, he drained his goblet and moved toward the bed. He’d decided he needed some extra liquid courage before taking his new wife to bed, he didn’t think he could cope with all the tears without something to help him forget the experience.

“Lie back, wife,” he said, his voice thick with drink, “we’ll soon have this done with,”.

Across the Red Keep Aemond sat alone in his chambers, he’d removed the patch from his ruined eye and the sapphire caught the flickering light from the fire, he stared at the flames as they twisted and licked around one another. Separate tongues of flame merging into a single burning light before breaking apart again and reaching desperately for cool air being drawn down the chimney.

The door to his room opened without warning, he turned his eye toward the darkened doorway and watched his mother enter. Her cheeks were flushed red with the wine she’d taken at the feast and her usually impeccable hair was looking dishevelled from dancing.

“Nice wedding?” Aemond asked as she sat heavily in the chair beside him and sighed deeply.

“Lovely,” Alicent mused with a smile, “the bride wouldn’t stop crying but she always was a miserable little thing,”.

Alicent looked over at her son, her smile was indulgent as she studied his profile.

“You should have been there,” she said softly.

Aemond gave a small shake of his head.

“It wouldn’t be appropriate,”.

“What would be inappropriate about you attending the wedding of members of the court?” Alicent argued.

Aemond, not in the mood to argue with his mother remained silent and returned his attention to the flames, tomorrow he would hold a service of devotion for his family and the small council and afterward he might entertain the master of coin to see what he could learn about the plans to deal with the civil unrest that was coming from Dorne.

“Anyway, I thought you’d like to know that Lord Beesbury has announced his plans to wed the Moreland girl before her next name day,”.

“The Moreland girl?” Aemond asked, turning his attention back to his mother.

“Another one of your sister's handmaids, the one with the golden hair and the crooked smile, she’s sweet enough but I feel for her marrying an old dog like Beesbury,” Alicent replied before lapsing into silence. The memory of her own marriage announcement brought sharply to the forefront of her mind.

Aemond’s fingers twitched against his knee, he knew the girl by sight and seemed to remember that despite the crookedness of her smile she showed it off willingly and often. He could help but wonder if she’d smile for him as he took her apart piece by piece.

“Before her next name day, you said?”.

“Hmm? Yes, about 3 months from now,” Alicent said, her mind now firmly fixed on the past.

Aemond nodded his head and drummed his fingers faster on his knee, not long to wait.

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