#i did have a couple of other aus where they got to meet but nothing came out of that

[impval]

i found love

Victoria Neuman x fem! reader soulmate au

Everyone had different bonds. Some shared pain or emotions. Some even simply had timers, counting down to the moment when they'd first glimpse into the eyes of the person they were meant to be with.

The movements and subtle pulls of the thread, the little tugs and twists, were a constant in her life. She found herself often idly touching the red thread that no one else could see, and wondering where it led to… and who was on the other end, connected to her.

Orphaned at a young age, adopted and learn quickly to survive - it had shaped Victoria. So, she decided that soulmate were just an unnecessary risk. A liability. No soulmate, and no messy emotions or attachments involved. She didn't need one.

No, it was better not to think about it. Better to simply ignore it, ignore the thread that seemed to itch and burn with every passing year. Victoria had always had a plan, a goal, something to work towards. She simply couldn’t afford to have her whole life thrown into chaos simply because there was a chance that her soulmate could somehow... complete her.

Work was the closest thing she had to a lover, to a companion. She'd had fleeting relationships over the years, casual things, but she never let any of them grow into something more.

Victoria didn't really think much of the patterns, at first. Just a curious observation that slowly started to nag on her mind, and which she'd occasionally think about when she got the time to do so. The subtle tugging and pulling throughout the day... there was a distinct rhythm to it that only made sense if the person on the other end were in a similar time zone.

It was just another day.

Wake up, get some coffee, get to work, deal with reports, lunch time if she lucky, reports, meetings, and more reports, and then home. It was a routine she was used to - something that was familiar, something that made at least part of her life predictable.

But it took a few hours, embarrassingly long, for Victoria to realize that something was off. Her soulmate always moved during lunch, sometimes stopping before it started again, as though her soulmate was checking their phone or something...They weren't moving today. Why?

It could very well be that her soulmate had simply forgotten to eat lunch - a trivial and harmless explanation for her uncharacteristically still thread, that lay motionless, red against her arm. Or it could also be something worse. Were they ill? Were they... dead?

No. If the fucking thread was there, obviously her soulmate was alive. Obviously. It stupid to be so worried about a thread, she kept telling herself. But then lunch break passed, then the hour... and then another. The thread still did not move.

Her mood began to sour as the evening drew on. Sitting alone in the safety and secrecy of her home, with glass of whiskey in hand, Victoria let her eyes settle on the thread.

Just... sick, she told herself. Perhaps she was worrying over nothing. Perhaps they'd just come down with a cold or something. There was no reason to worry.

Victoria had her hands full - between dealing with supes, potential terrorist threats, and the occasional meeting with other government officials, the days had been busy and exhausting. Every time she had looked at the thread in the last couple days, the movements had gotten better... but they were still somehow off. It was still concerning, and she still couldn't quite figure out exactly why she was worried.

The incident had happened almost a week ago, the usual supe bullshit...Apparently, some supe had gotten drunk, used his powers to destroy the entire club, and injured several people. The only reason this accident was even in the news was because the supe involved was a relatively well-known hero. Otherwise, these kinds of cases tended to be ignored by the media.

The survivors were now in the hospital and, well, it was good PR, public image was key.

Victoria knew the drill - pay sympathy, try to look as earnest and as concerned as possible. It wasn't even that much of a problem - she did care about the people affected - it was just exhausting, pretending to care more about it than she actually did.

The folder her assistant had handed to her had detailed information. Nothing more than routine - she always prepared for any and all situations. Her gaze lingered for a moment, longer than it had for any of the other names on the list of patients: the last one, your name.

People hurried back and forth, the beeping of machines and the smell of antiseptic pervaded the air. Hospitals had always made Victoria feel uncomfortable.

She walked through the hospital, nodding and making sympathetic noises and reassuring people, reassuring herself that she was doing a good work. Most of the victims had suffered relatively minor injuries - a few broken wrists, concussions, a lost eye... it could have been much, much worse.

The thread was shortening with each person she met, and she'd be lying if she said that she didn't notice - but she pushed it to the back of her mind, tried to focus on what was said instead.

And then...

This was the last stop, the last patient. With blank eyes, Victoria stared down at the red thread, and let out a deep, almost exhausted sigh.

She'd almost made a choice to not even stop by your room. That would be the smart thing to do, the practical thing, the one that would save her from a lot of heartache.

The conversation with her assistant was brief, and in a moment she was alone, standing in front of the door to your room.

Victoria told herself it didn't matter, that it wasn't important. She'd made it this far in life without ever considering finding a soulmate - why worry about them now? But the red thread was pulsating, beckoning her towards.

But there was that other part of her, the part that was curious about what it would be like, the part that was lonely, that wanted to know.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Some swore that the moment they saw their soulmate, the world suddenly made sense - became beautiful. Others claimed that it was no different than meeting anyone else, just... less complicated. For all the research and discussion, no one agreed of what it was like.

The room was quiet, only a low beep from the heart monitor - you were laying in the bed, attached to an IV, a visible scratches and dark bruises across your body.

You looked familiar to her, your face and your eyes - and Victoria recognized you, even though she had never seen you before. Familiar. Warmth and comfort. The feeling of being known... understood, even without knowing this person. She could have gone her entire life without feeling that, and yet here it was anyway.

"Hello," your voice was so soft, so soft that Victoria almost didn't hear it.

Your face, oh my god, so beautiful, had a big smile on it - you weren't smiling with your teeth, as if you were embarrassed for some reason (braces perhaps?). Fuck, how was it possible that you looked cute, even though you were currently in the goddamned hospital?

"Hello," she said, equally quietly, taking a few steps closer.

A week ago, she had been completely sure that a soulmate did not matter to her. And now, the stupid part of her brain was screaming that she wanted to hold your hand, run her fingers gently over your skin...

There was nothing particularly special about your appearance, Victoria admitted to herself, and yet... she couldn't help but look at you - so beautiful, so familiar, so perfect.

Well, Victoria has always been adaptable.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. "I've seen you on TV. Victoria, right?"

She snapped herself out of her thoughts, clearing her own throat and willing (and failing) to clear her mind of all the new, confusing, and unfamiliar (yet welcome) thoughts and feelings.

"Yeah… that's correct," Victoria nodded, trying to get a hold of the swirling thoughts in her mind.

She spoke your name and god, it was beautiful to hear, it was like...

No, focus.

You slowly lifted yourself to sit on the bed, the movement looking like it took a bit of effort and clearly put you in some amount of pain - and she had to suppress the instinctive urge to offer help.

"And here I thought the nurses were joking about a politician coming to the hospital. To be honest, I expected an old white man."

Despite everything, she let out a quiet laugh. It sounded shaky even to her own ears, but she was too focused on watching you to really pay attention to it.

"I always get comments about me being the wrong age and gender for a politician," she replied with a small, easy smile - or at least that was what she tried to portray.

You'd dreamed of this moment. Imagined meeting your soulmate, had probably thought of this moment so many times, over and over. And then it happens, and you meet your damn soulmate — and it turns out to be a fucking politician. To make things even better, one who was famously anti-supe and you were currently in the damn hospital because of a supe attack.

"How... are you feeling?" she asked, her voice softer with the question. "Your injuries, I mean."

There was a sudden feeling of guilt as she looked at you, and she pushed it aside quickly - she could worry about the implications and consequences of her secret identity later when she was alone.

The thread seemed to vibrate as Victoria took another step closer.

You let out a small huff, and shrugged slightly in response, before grimacing in pain. "Like I was hit by a truck," you stated dryly. "But the doctors say I will be fine. And the painkillers helps."

Her eyes darkened at the thought of someone hurting you like this, injuring you so badly that you were in a hospital. Whoever did this was going to face consequences. Not now, of course - she was going to wait.

For now... Victoria took another step forward. Her eyes glanced down at the way you wrapped the thread around your hand, and she almost - almost - reached out to imitate the action herself.

But she didn't - her hands, instead, gripped the metal rail of the bed, her knuckles turning white from the force of the grip. So many questions entered her mind, all at once. She had no idea how long you'd be in hospital, who came to see you, how your recovery process would be going - the list was endless.

"When will you be discharged?"

"Sometime next week, apparently. My injuries are... non-life threatening. Mostly just..." you gestured to the scratches and bruises on your arms and face. "Well. I'm lucky."

You were blushing under her gaze and she noticed, a small part of her preening with satisfaction at the idea that her mere presence was enough to make you blush.

"Do you have family, or someone else who could look after you?"

a partner?

The mere thought that you might be with someone else, with someone other than her, was just wrong. It was just wrong. Victoria had no right to think that way, and she knew it - she'd only just met you, for god’s sake.

But she felt it, she couldn't help it.

Victoria couldn't help but noticed - no flowers, no "get well" balloons, nothing at all that might have indicated visitors.

"No," you shook your head. "My friends are currently in Spain and my family... we don't talk anymore."

Wait.

So who the hell was taking care of you while you were in the hospital? No one? She was your soulmate. You were hers, and it just felt wrong to leave you in your current condition, with no one to take care of you…

Hers. The word echoed through Victoria mind, over and over again, her soulmate, her responsibility, her to protect, to take care of -

"That won't do," She found herself saying before she realized it.

- and Victoria had always held a sense of possessiveness over the things she considered hers. In this case, she would have no compunctions about using her power and influence to guarantee your safety, to make sure you would be looked after.

But you tried to brush it off, of course you did - yet all she could focus on was the fact that no, you weren't going to be alone while you were recovering.

As her hand touched yours, you immediately went silent. The thread wraps around connected hands, and Victoria found herself thinking that the red looked nice on you.

And that's how Victoria was suddenly having a crash course in learning how to be a doting soulmate.

Funny, but she would have never, in a million years assumed she'd be acting so... obsessive over her soulmate, and yet here she was, finding out information that she felt the compulsive need to know.

How were your injuries healing? Had you been prescribed enough painkillers? Were you comfortable? She learned your medical history, for god's sake.

Victoria visited you at every spare moment she had, taking time out of her schedule just to see you. It was pathetic, in a way, how quickly her entire world seemed to revolve around you, the person she'd just met.

She had flowers brought to your room, balloons, even a stupid teddy bear, all while her logical thinking was telling her that this was all just too fast and too much. But the fact that you were alone, without family or friends, drove her to the point of near-aggression, and Victoria wanted to shower you with so much attention you would hardly be able to breathe.

You blushed and stuttered as you told your friends on the phone about all of this. They were surprised, of course, who wouldn't be surprised and a little freaked out, but there was also genuine excitement, and they were happy for you.

You'd always dreamed of having a soulmate, and now you had Victoria. Even her publicity and the fact that she was a politician didn't bother you as much as they probably should.

She was smart, and knew things before you even tried to say them. And once her mind was set on something, she was stubborn as hell, and you soon found that you were completely unable to resist her, especially when she looked at you with those big brown eyes.

You were staying with her when you were discharged. That wasn't up for discussion. She had already had a room cleaned out for you, had set it up to make sure everything was comfortable.

The thought that she'd be looking after you soon wasn't as intimidating as it should have been. Hell, you'd welcomed it.

Once you'd gathered your things from your home, she took you to her apartment, and you weren't surprised. It was definitely the sort of place Victoria would have. All things said that she was incredibly well-off, not shy about how much she spent in any way.

It was funny, the way she was acting right in front of your eyes. The way she doted on you, the way she made sure you were comfortable and happy, that nothing was missing - anything you wanted, she would get it for you.

Unfortunately, the reality was that she needed to work, and that required her to follow a certain schedule.

You adapted quickly, and she began to get used to the routine of having you around, the feeling far more comfortable than she'd expected. You soon learned that she loathed waking up early but did it anyway - and now sometimes you got up with her, even as she protested, cooking breakfast for her while she was in the shower.

Whenever she was at work, at yet another meeting, where she had to deal with the bullshit of idiots and incompetent employees, she would find herself missing you more than she thought she would.

Before, she'd always spent her evenings working, taking her documents home with her and continuing to work when she was in the comfort of her apartment - but now, that routine was changed.

Victoria found herself actually looking forward to coming home, because you were there, always happy to see her.

At first, you slept in the guest bedroom. It didn't take long for that situation to change, though - it was a nightmare that made it necessary. Anxiety and nightmares were hardly surprising - you had been attacked by a supe, after all. Your body recovered fairly well, thankfully, but your mind was another story.

And if that supe that hurt you somehow died in a mysterious, unexplainable accident, it was all just a coincidence.

If she was late coming home from work, claiming that she had suddenly had more important papers to work on, that was just a coincidence as well.

Coincidences happened all the time.

Victoria's bed was soft and comfortable, and it smelled like her. It was probably one of the best decisions she'd made, having you in bed with her. When you had nightmares and woke up sweaty and breathless, she could help you immediately, and she would often wake up to you clinging to her. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she liked seeing that.

You were hers, and even in your sleep, you were subconsciously seeking her out.

Soulmates didn't have to love each other romantically, it was true, and the relationship between soulmates could take a myriad of different forms.

But Victoria wasn't an idiot. She saw the same expression in your eyes, the same look that was most likely mirrored in hers. She wasn't the most romantic person, but some things were not hard to see. This was a romantic soulbond.

A month and then another passed, you were fully recovered now and yet neither of you even bothered to bring up the subject of you moving out. Why would you? You were soulmates, and moving in together was something that would happen anyway at some point - besides, Victoria clearly enjoyed having you there, and you had no objections either.

Not to mention, getting to see her in her suits every day was a pleasure.

Even for a couple that was going a bit fast, you were taking things slow in other aspects. Gentle touches, late-night conversations, the way you talked about the little things, all of it helped you learn each other, figure out habits and personality quirks.

You eventually introduced her to your friends, and Victoria, being the charming woman she was, didn't exactly struggle to win them over. They were quite amused that you moved in with her so quickly, cracking jokes about the lesbian stereotypes that you definitely seemed to be fitting right into.

The most difficult topic was Victoria's career. It was important to her - and unfortunately, that meant that she would have to figure out what she was going to do with you soon.

But you weren't certain whether you wanted people to know about your relationship with her, especially being a public figure and all that came with. And you were also aware that politicians had two options when it came to their soulmates. Politicians either hid their soulmates or they paraded them out like a trophy.

But the main concern on Victoria's mind was your safety.

She had loads of assholes who could be a problem, including those idiotic Hughie's friends, Homelander (she would end him if he dared to even look at you), her adopted father and whoever else decided to add themselves to the metaphorical list.

What you didn't know was that Victoria was protecting you already, using her connections to make sure you had a pair (or sometimes more) of watchful eyes on you when you went somewhere without her.

And while she held you in her arms and watched you sleeping, Victoria decided that it was perhaps time to thin that metaphorical list of threats with a very literal approach.

You had no idea about the violent thoughts that had invaded her mind, and she preferred to keep it that way, for now. To you, Victoria was just your lovely soulmate, who kissed you every morning before work. Someone who wore comfy, stretched-out sweaters around the house and read the newspapers while drinking coffee like a grandma. She was the one who smiled warmly every time you did something nice for her, and she responded by overly spoiling you with expensive gifts.

Part of Victoria felt guilty that she hadn't even considered telling you the truth about her powers. If you found out the truth, would you look at her differently?

Would you see her differently knowing she was a supe too? Knowing that she'd killed more than once? That she would kill again without hesitation, if it meant saving you and her career?

Well, you didn't hate supes, but you were hurt by one of them before, and you were still having nightmares from the goddamn trauma. How would you possibly react when you found out that she was one too?

You were perfect in many ways. You were so considerate and patient, holding her tight while she ranted after a day of dealing with idiots at work, or giving her space when she needed to sort out her own anger.

As the protective one in the relationship, she was well aware that you were also strong in your own way, though not as obvious about it… but would it all be enough?

Victoria shoved those doubts and conflicting thoughts far out of her mind, to be dealt with another time, when she had time to sort through the mess of feelings.

For now, she had a career to build, and a wonderful - if completely oblivious - soulmate at home who she couldn't get enough of.

Coming home after work to find you there, waiting for her, the weekends now filled with you instead of work, laughter in the house and your smile, and...

Victoria would come home after work just to hear your voice and see your smile, feel your touch. Even on the really bad days, when her anger was still bubbling just beneath the surface, even when she was stressed.

This wasn't a life she'd ever thought she would have, but it was one she didn't want to give up for anything in the world.

[poppy-metal]

MARRIAGE COUNSELING W ART PLEASEEEEEEEE GOD THE DEVASTATION THAT TAKES PLACE ON THAT COUCH

i think about it alot. tashi staying with patrick, her injury never happening. your arts college girlfriend and now you're married and it feels fucking stagnant, your relationship. but neither of you wants to give up. neither of you wants to reveal to the other true feelings.

under the cut because this got long and i have a whole au in my hear around this concept

you're only in counseling because of tashi. because shes still in your lives, her and patrick. and she recommended it to art when they were having one of their 'friend' lunches. and now here you are, because of course art took her advice.

he hasn't said anything, though. despite pleading for this. saying he wanted to save your marriage, that he wanted to love you how you should be loved but he didn't know how.

so here you are, on opposite ends of the couch, with the counselor staring at the empty space between you like that in itself is very telling. you suppose it is, in a way. couples who want to stay together should be unified, shouldn't they? you imagine how it would feel, if art had sat next to you. put an arm around you. squeezed you to his side. would you even be able to relax into him? its been so long since you touched eachother that way.

"so im picking up on some distance here," your therapist says. shes a small woman. almost swallowed by her chair. her glasses are perched on her nose as she gazes imperiously at empty space separating you and art. "not just physical either, though thats rather obviously there. but emotional distance. do either of you wanna comment on that?"

you cut a glance at art, expecting him to speak up since this was his idea - well. tashi's. but he just looks down at his lap, quiet. spins his wedding band around his finger.

you feel an anger so intense it pricks your eyes with tears.

"well, i guess you could start with the fact that coming here wasn't even either of our idea. it was his friends."

and now. here art speaks. his head jerks up and she shoots you an annoyed look. "you don't have to say it like that. you always say it like that. her name is tashi and she is my friend. and it was her suggestion, yeah, but it was a good one."

you look at the therapist - janet. raise your eyebrows in arts direction like, get a load of this guy. your legs cross and you start picking at a stray string from the couch.

"first words of the session and its to talk about another woman."

arts inhale is sharp and you can feel his eyes on you but you dont look at him. you can't. you wont. you're right, anyway. he can try to deny it all he wants but you know - you know what you are to him. you know where all your problems stem. you dont need to be here to make any grand discoveries over a fact you've resigned yourself too.

"i see." janet says. "and art having a relationship with this other woman upsets you."

"everything upsets her." art cuts in, sounding tired. his elbow is braced on the arm of the couch and hes chewing on his thumb in one of his nervous gestures. he always did that, as long as you've known him. he was a nail biter, he'd chew his lips raw, he'd nibble on straws, the ends of his pens. he was either lost in thought or agitated. your guess was the latter. "nothing i do makes her happy."

"is this true? are you unhappy with art?"

your skin feels hot. you shift around in your seat. the attention is all on you, and it feels like you've done something wrong, even though you know its literally janets job to ask questions.

"more like i know I'm not what he wants and that makes me...... really fucking sad."

art knees almost knock against yours as he turns his body to face you, giving you his full attention the first time today. you cant meet his eyes still, so you look at the faded spot on his jeans. light blue, like his eyes. you wonder how hes looking at you. cant make yourself look up to see.

"what." he stops. seems to gather some thoughts. tries again, with a steadier tone. "what are you talking about."

you try not to roll your eyes. your arm flings out limply.

"just that this whole thing is a joke, art." and you let out an exasperated laugh, even though nothing is funny. nothing has been funny or light between you two in a long time. "we're only here because the girl you really wanted to marry, told you to get your fucking shit together. you didn't ask us to come here because you wanted to mend something, you're here to please tashi. because if playing a good husband is a role she wants for you - well, you want to play it right, dont you?"

its quiet after that. in the silence you cant help but think about those early days. when you'd been full of love and light and art seemed to be really happy with you. you'd go on dates to the movies, walk through the park together with your hands swinging between you. laugh together and steal kisses whenever you could. you felt high back then.

it didn't even matter that art had a crush on tashi, because hell, you had one too, at the time. but she'd started dating patrick, and they seemed to mesh well together. they were both so intense and passionate. back then, you'd been alot closer to tashi yourself. patrick too. you remember the way she'd rant about how much she fucking hated him, pacing around your room and calling him every name under the sun. and you'd sit there with eager curiosity, and ask her why she didn't end it then. if he makes you so angry, why stay?

and she'd get this faraway look in her eyes. kind of wistful. kind of sad. kind of happy.

"because he makes me feel fucking alive. hes like a - like a drug or something. i cant quit. its addictive, you know?"

that stuck with you. it still sticks with you. you remember being envious of that kind of passion. youe relationship with art had always been so easy. you dont think you'd ever fought by that point. you loved art. you felt safe with art. but were you addicted to him? if you broke up - would you feel withdrawal symptoms?

sometimes you layed awake at night and thought about starting a fight - breaking up for no reason. just to see if he'd fight for you back, if the missing of eachother would be so intense one of you would cave.

but somehow you knew that wouldn't be the case. thats just not how you and art operated. if you got angry, he wouldn't rise to meet you, he'd back down. if you ended things, he wouldn't chase you, he'd let you go.

patrick and tashi were fire and brimstone and you and art was ice and you were....... dirt. solid. walked upon. dependable and not at all exciting.

when art had proposed to you after college graduation it wasn't spur of the moment as it had been with patrick when he'd swept tashi up with a ring and a elopement to vegas. it was talked about and agreed upon and you knew it was coming.

you still said yes.

"you think," and arts voice has a barely concealed tremble to it that makes you look up, finally. you're shocked to see he looks wounded. so many of his expressions you can count on one hand - and this - this wasn't one of them. his eyes are dark, stormy. "you think i dont care about our marriage beyond what someone else has to say about it? you really think that?"

you hate the sliver of guilt you feel, because its not a crazy thing to feel.

"yeah, i really do."

because well, that's the truth of the matter isn't it? you and your husband stare at eachother. and it feels like you're looking at a stranger. not the man who's freckles you used to kiss. who's fears you knew. who's hands you know every callous of, every divot and fingerprint.

"it seems you two have very different views of how the other views this marriage." janet cuts in, sounding curious. she taps her pen against the open notepad on her lap. "art, would you like to chime in on why you wanted to come here? even at the suggestion of someone else?"

art stares at you for a long moment. his face is unreadable to you. his jaw works before his chest expands on an exhale and he looks away.

"i guess i - i just didn't realize how..... stagnant things had gotten until it was pointed out to me. harshly." he winces, and you wonder exactly what tashi had to say to him. you haven't talked to the other woman for some time. contact fizzling out after your marriage to art. he flicks a glance to you, then away again. "im not the best at being aware of shit going on around me." his hand comes up to rub nervously at his neck. "i guess you could say im good at brushing things under the rug. going through the motions. that sort of thing."

janet nods like this makes sense to her. well, great, you think. you know my husband more than i do.

"you're not a fan of confrontation, are you?"

art actually laughs. a genuine one. one that brings a dimple to his cheek and flashes his teeth. you stare at it, like its an exotic animal, and you wont see it again. quickly you catalog the expression in your memory, so you dont forget what he looks like when hes happy.

"yeah, no." he shakes his head. "but I think thats part of the problem. I've obviously let too much shit get put under the rug and now its so full other people are noticing."

you look down at your hands, lips pressed together. your face burns at the knowledge that tashi and by extension - patrick - know your marriage is in shambles. how embarrassing, to be caught lacking in such a momentous way. to come up short and have your husbands friends know about it. you wonder - does he talk about all the ways you make him miserable with them? does patrick shake his head, say, "she's sucking the life out of you, man." does tashi look at him with pity? like hes some poor abused cat that needs to be let in from the rain?

the rain of your marriage.

the rain of you.

you're the storm. you're the problem. you're not enough. art needs fire. you're not even dirt, you're glass. and you can feel yourself breaking.

"that clearly hit a nerve, my dear." janets voice is soft. soothing. she hands you a tissue and you realize you'd begun to cry. "do you want to explain what you're feeling about what art said?"

"i...."

you dab dab dab at your eyes. sniffle. look around the room, trying to collect your thoughts. they feel like flyaway dandelions. you dont know which of them to grasp.

a warm hand settles over yours in your lap and you startle. its arts hand. warm and calloused and tan, covering yours. the gold glint of his wedding ring winks at you, the engraved words etched into them, "my soft epilogue". a shortened version of your favorite qoute i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

at the time, that's what art was to you. your life before him hadn't been easy. being with art had felt like coming home from a long day and falling into a soft bed. it had felt like being able to land after weeks of being made to fly.

you turned your palm up, so he could slide his fingers between yours. he squeezed your hand.

"i think, i. i think i just think - I'm a failure." your bottom lip wobbles. you look at your enterwoven fingers and it makes you so sad that you haven't done the simple gesture of holding your husbands hand in months. "the two most important people in your life are. are so passionate and loud. and i see. i see how happy they make you - and i cant - i cant b-be that for you. we aren't - im not - you dont need me. im not a limb for you how they are. you could extract yourself from me and be. be happier."

your breath shudders out of you.

"you don't need me." you echo.

you wait for him to pull his hand away. this is more than you thought you'd share. some of it you weren't even aware of till the words were spilling from your lips. but they ring true.

without patrick and tashi art would drown. without you..... he'd float just fine.

"and that's important to you." janet says. a statement not a question. "you want to feel needed by art, and you feel as though you aren't. that his needs are met better with his friends than with you."

you nod slowly.

"baby." the word sends a shock through you. not the word itself but how its said. art calls you baby all the time, in a monotonous kind of way. routine. now he says it softly. with feeling. he lets go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheek, still damp with tears, turning your face to his. he looks pained. "of course i need you. i know i haven't been good at showing it. i just - you shut down - after we got married. you've been like a fucking ghost. like you dont want me to touch you. like i could dissappear for all you care and you'd just carry on. i don't know. but i need you, okay? i. need. you."

both hands cup your face, he makes you stare right into him. the conviction in his voice takes your breath away. theres a fire burning there you've thought long put out.

"obviously we have shit to sort out, and we will. but you've got to. you've got to know that. tashi only pushed me to do this because she how - how desperate i was. that's all."

you inhale deeply. exhale. swallow hard. tears cling to your lashes. you reach a hand up to clutch at one of arts wrists. eyes fluttering automatically when you do. you feel grounded again. less like you might float away.

"okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah...." and you smile. it trembles across your lips. but its there. "we'll sort our shit."

art lets out a relieved breath. kisses your forehead, lingering there. the gesture so tender you get emotional again. you want to crawl into his lap, have him wrap you in his arms. you want to feel held by him, like you used to.

"our time is up." janet sets her pen down. smiles. "but i think that was a wonderful first session. i can see the love between you hasn't faded, and that's more i can say for alot of couples who come to see me. keep your chin up."

[atomicami]

comfort crowd

boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍

You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.

A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.

The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.

Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.

You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.

“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.

She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.

“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“

“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”

You simply nod at her in response.

“Alright then, Abby.”

After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:

“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”

Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?

Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.

That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.

And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.

You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”

You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.

“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.

Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”

Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.

Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.

Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.

She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.

You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”

As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.

You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”

“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.

“Right, thank you, Abby.”

You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.

Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.

But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.

The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.

Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.

And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.

The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.

You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.

Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.

As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.

Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.

All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.

Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.

You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.

It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.

Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?

Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.

At that moment, she wanted to make things right.

Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.

Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”

Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.

She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:

“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”

Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.

Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”

You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.

You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.

“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”

The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”

It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…

Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”

You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.

“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”

Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.

Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”

You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.

Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.

“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”

Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”

You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”

She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.

“…you.”

A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”

You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.

“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.

And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.

But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?

You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.

Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.

Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”

With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.

However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.

Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.

You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.

“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“

“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”

You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“

“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.

“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”

Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.

Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.

“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”

The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”

You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.

So you give in this time.

“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”

And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.

Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”

You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.

“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.

You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.

“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.

Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.

That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.

So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.

“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.

You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”

You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”

“Better than him, right?”

“Yeah. Better than him.”

A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”

You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.

Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.

The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.

Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”

“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”

You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.

She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.

“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”

Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.

“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.

“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”

All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.

The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.

Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.

At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.

Abby was waiting for you to cum first.

You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.

“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.

“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”

At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.

“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.

Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.

Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.

Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.

Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.

You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.

Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”

You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.

And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[nanaslutt]

gojo's first time meeting you and instantly noticing your freckles. like nothing other than your freckles, not even the clothes you're wearing rn or your hair or eyes.

freckles.

and im absolutely sure geto would be so fed up with gojo ranting about how he wants to kiss every single one of them.

oh my god this is so cute???????? this reminds me of gojos cannon reaction to seeing geto for the first time and thinking “bangs” lol

contains: fem transfer student!reader, 3rd year satosugu, geto choosing to stay at jujutsu tech au, the boys are both 19 here, Geto has morals, gojo uhhhhhh, crackkk, fluff, perv!gojo, masturbation, caught masturbating, fantasizing

note: the toji fic will b posted later tonight or tmrw morn :p

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Freckles………

If you looked close enough you might be able to see the white orbs floating around Gojo’s head,

“Uhhh, sorry is there something on my face” you spoke up when he didn’t say anything after you introduced yourself.

Satoru getting jolted out of his trance when suguru landed a mean smack on the back of his head, pouting at his dark haired bestfriend.

“Sorry about him,” geto apologized on his behalf, “he can be quite oblivious to how his actions affect other people.” suguru grit behind his teeth, looking out the corner of his eye to see satoru shooting daggers at him.

“Asshole…” the white haired man mumbled under his breath, looking up from under his white lashes, gaze set back on your face, watching you rub the back of your neck, saying something to geto.

Words leaving your mouth sounding muffled as his gaze dropped to your neck, noticing that the brown spots trailed further and further down the length of your neck, even traveling under the collar of your shirt, where the cloth obstructed his view.

Lip twitching up breifly at his annoyance, wanting to see just how far the freckles really went.

“Right satoru?” Suguru laughed, both of you directing your attention to the albino, “god da-“ smacking him harder once more on the back of his head, sending him his body curling in on himself on the ground and groaning, “manners satoru jesus christ.” suguru smacks a heavy hand over his face at gojos antics.

—

Gojo let his head fall of the edge of sugurus bed, silky hair falling around his ears, suguru laying against the headboard, flipping through some magazine, sugurus low-fi playlist playing softly in the backround.

“God….did you see how her frek-“ Geto swiftly cutting him off by kicking his foot into his shin, “satoru i swear to god if you say one more thing about her fucking freckles i’m going to cut out your tongue.” he spat, not looking up from his magazine.

For days after your first meeting he would not shut up about how cute he found your freckles.

Learning when you wore a skimpy tank top when sparing with shoko, that the cute spots not only covered your pretty face, but your arms and hands too.

Watching the light hit your skin as your body moved swiftly, shirt lifting when you flipped and twisted yourself, seeing the freckles and moles scattered across your tummy.

Shirt barely having lifted for a couple milliseconds, but he didn’t have good eyesight for nothing. Gojo quickly memorizing the placement of the dots and engraving it in his brain.

Brain practically short circuiting when the sun was beating down on the school a little too how one day, meaning he got to see you in shorts.

short, skimpy, tight, shorts.

It was like you wanted him to look, leaning over the counter, knees perched on the stool and elbows on the counter, cradling your soft cheeks in your hands as you spoke to shoko over the table.

Twisting your hips on the swivel stool, making the fabric of your shorts raise, letting him see even more brown spots on the insides of your thighs from his place on the couch behind you.

“torruuu,” geto caught him off gaurd, whispering into the shell of his ear, “quit bein a fucking perv.” turning to look at the not so friendly looking smile plastered on the dark haired mans face. ugh. buzzkill.

Taking them back to the present, “I know I knowww, you hate beauty we get it..” gojo drawled, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes. Lucky the bed blocked geto’s view of gojo’s face from here, as he probably would’ve hit him.

“I just cannot stop thinking about kissing her cute little face, maybe her neck..” pausing for a second, getting too absolved in his words, “below her neck…” he whispered.

“Satoru, stop telling me about your perverted fantasies about our new classmate, please.” letting the magazine drop into his lap as he finally let himself look down at the man.

Geto quickly noticing the extremely obvious tent in his pants. “You have 2 seconds to get you and your boner off my bed or your not gonna like it.” geto growled.

Gojo let his body slide of the bed backwards headfirst into the hardwood floor. “You hate meeeee,” he dragged out his words dramatically, “You hate my happinesssss” he continued, geto closing his eyes and shook his head, feeling a headache come on at his antics.

“I hate your penis.” Geto corrected. “She has a mind of her own, it’s not my faul,” gojo defended, sprawling his limbs out on the floor.

“Did you just refer to your dick as ‘she’?” Geto asked, needing to clarify the insanity gojo was spouting, leaning over the end of his bed to get a better look at the white haired freak.

“Well yeah,” he stated like it was obvious, “cant be a ‘him’, that would be gay.”

Geto blinked at him, glancing at the ceiling to center himself before he looked back at the man on the floor. Leaning back out of view, he picked up the magazine, throwing it straight at gojos crotch. Of course now of all times when geto decided to assault him, he had his infinity on.

“Oh that would’ve hurt so bad,” gojo closed his lanky legs together, covering his crotch with his hands. “I cant believe you really went for my nads.” gojo bit his lip in offense, faux crying at getos meaness.

Geto just rolled his eyes in response, flopping back into the bed, folding his hands over his chest as he was left entertain-less.

—

When the two of you finally exchanged numbers, he used the opportunity to ask to take a picture together; for your profile picture of course!

Definitely not because he wanted to stare at the picture by himself for hours; pinching the screen between his fingers, zooming in and out of on the photo as he now could really map out each and every one of your freckles.

Blushing when his brain compared them to the constellations, how romantic he thought.

What happened next was… less romantic.

Phone laid out on the bed underneath him while his hand laid next to it, bracing himself as he hovered above it, other hand rapidly stroking his cock.

Staring into your eyes unabashedly, no geto around to tell him off as he engraved whatever piece of your face he wanted into his brain permanently.

Squeezing over the tip when he looked at how big his hand looked compared to your shoulder, palm resting on it in the photo.

Twitching at the mole placed perfectly on your cleavage, getting a great view of the crack between your breasts from the high angle he held the phone at. Mentally patting himself on the back for that.

He had zoomed in onto your half of the photo, not wanting to look at himself while he masturbated.

Mouth watering with the urge to press his lips against every single one of your freckles. Imagining you giggling and blushing while he tickled your face with his soft lips making him dizzy.

Gojo imagined your hand instead of his, wrapped tightly around his cock. He imagined pressing his length against your plush lips, rubbing the tip over them, feeling your tongue dart out and lick his tip.

Groaning out your name when he came, abs clenching when ropes of cum spurted out of his dick, and all over the sheets underneath him.

Grimacing when he watched some of it land on his phone screen; disgust being slightly overpowered by how erotic your pixelated face looked with his cum decorating it.

“Satoru did you take my charger again? Swear i’m gonna kill you-“ Suguru cut himself short when he slid satoru’s door open, taking in the scene in front of him.

Geto wasn’t able to fully see his phone, but he knew full well what his jerk off material was.

Satoru gave him a dopey grin, practically seeing smoke emit from atop getos head as he slammed the door shut, kicking his foot against the wood and yelling out, “cant believe i’m best friends with such a pervert!” down the hallway, voice getting quieter the further he got away from gojos room.

Satoru didn’t care though, gazing back at his phone, picking it up in his palm before using his thumb to smear the cum over your smiling lips lewdly.

He absolutely needed to get his hands on you, and he would make sure he did.

[r0-boat]

Mirror Mirror

Whb!Lucifer X Gm!Reader X Obeyme!Lucifer

AU where MC somehow as access to both dimensions... I don't know some ch16 Barbatos bullshit

Porn with plot... So this is part one

Part two

You wander around hell a lot...

It is common knowledge that despite the danger of you wandering around with dangerous devils and even more dangerous angels, it is very difficult to get you to stay in one place.

But they didn't know that sometimes you won't even be in their game of existence.

You had no idea how or when you got this power... You were suddenly summoned to an unknown place at an unknown time.

The refined gentleman before you who shared the name of the familiar devil from Hades profusely apologized but explained where you are and why you're here. His handsome face, horns, and split tails were all too familiar to you, So when his silver-tongued, refined voice told you that his world needed your help, You blindly listened to him.

After all, devils don't lie, right?

So there you were, balancing the existence of two worlds on your shoulders, spending time with the kings and going to meetings at the same time, rushing into the world of The Devildom to make it in time for class.

It was hard yet fun... Time moved a lot slower in Hell than in The Devildom. The seven in this world are much different yet somehow similar to the Seven you know of. It was so hard not to get attached. And they seem to like you too!

But over time, certain devils started to notice little things.

The sharpest devil in the Devildom Lucifer.

Your late arrivals have begun to increase lately. What was more confusing is that Mammon or any of his brothers didn't seem to know where you were, and then it was the strange scent he picked up when he held you close.

It was a late night, and you would come in with a cup of coffee and place it on his study table. He smiles, his eyes asking you for a hug, and you know exactly what he wants. He buried his nose into your neck, and that's when an unfamiliar scent shot through him. It was about a couple hours old and mingling with your natural human scent and the shampoo body wash you use. But he'd memorized your sense to know this one was alien; even more strange was the way you reacted when he pointed it out, and all he said was. "Are you trying new colognes with Asmodeus?"

He saw your face turn white, or you stumble over your words for an excuse... Odd... Very odd.

On the other side, Lucifer's wisdom and intelligence are almost unrivaled. He is a doctor, after all. He knows your body in and out. However, you tried concealing your packed marks with magic during an exam. You don't know how, but Lucifer could still sense something on your skin. Angels could sense when a human is connected to a devil. It is not only weaker now that he is no longer an angel but also quite useless since he has not been with humans since the Garden of Eden. But somehow, he could feel that you had pact marks...

They felt different. They were not like Solomon's... They were yours... At first, he thought he was feeling things, So he said nothing. But He noticed you're strange need to be alone and be gone for hours.

As much as he was more relaxed than the other kings, Lucifer took your safety more seriously than any king could be , But if you were doing something dangerous, he had to know... You are not only important to all of hell but to him as well.

It was night on both sides. Everyone went to sleep in the house of lamitation, and Lucifer retired from his studies. You were still awake, stepping quietly to reach the back garden so you could disappear to Hell. You are so caught up on making yourself quiet You had no idea a demon followed you using a spell to make himself unseen.

His eyes went wide as you stepped through a portal... He knew that magic...

Barbatos

And it was coming from something around your neck.

Whatever it was, You were going somewhere that he did not know or approve of, And he had to follow you to drag your ass back and demand an explanation. You jumped when he felt a gloved hand on your shoulder the moment you traveled through.

"Lucifer!"

Startling you so much, you stumbled backward into the chest of another. His red eyes widen, and he stares into the shining gaze of his mirror self.

You looked up to see those eyes looking down at your platinum blonde hair, which made your heart go into cardiac arrest as you started to breathe heavily, which was not good when you were in a place where the air was like poison!

Lucifer had no idea where the two of you were seeing the unfamiliar demon. He could feel his power rivaling that of himself, so his first instinct was to cradle you in his chest to protect you, but when this mysterious demon spoke your name and came to your aid. He said as if he knew you; he spoke as if he was close to you.

His heart squeezed. A possessiveness overcame him as he growled, an arm holding your shoulder, pulling you to him. "Don't touch them! Who are you?"

The usually calm and collected Lucifer's eyebrow twitched. This black hair devil's hold seemed protective; He was not just any devil. He could feel the power radiating from him, rivaling that of himself. His wings were feathered like an angel's; instead of white, they were pitch black...

Whatever he was, He was an unknown devil with his hand on you, and if he were a threat, then he would be eliminated.

The two Lucifers glared each other down, and your hands shook. Your vision was practically spinning. The fear of this situation, the stress of days before, and the feeling of your lungs squeezing and your body growing weak. You didn't know who you grabbed, but you grabbed someone's shirt as you called out, "Lucifer, please!"

[shina913]

Code Blue | KMG

Code Blue

Pairing: PFWeek!Mingyu x Stylist!Fem Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Idol au; hints of FWB; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: porn with a hint of plot; cussing; fingering; clit play; breast play; oral (F-rcvng); penetrative, unprotected sex; creampie; soft aftercare

Word count: 3.8K words

Summary: Mingyu doesn't want any other stylist--he only wants you.

A/N: The story was prompted by this video clip and title is from The-Dream's song of the same title. I only meant for this to be something quick but the clown car stopped by my house--it was headed to Deluluville so I just got on, ofc. Nothing but horny word vomit featuring Dior/PFW Mingyu. Tiny bit of angst brought on by the song, and also because I'm me, and why the hell not? Enjoy!

It’s fashion week and by some wild coincidence, many of your A-list celebrities are in town and they all have scheduled appearances at the big-ticket shows. Unfortunately, due to the location of a few shows and heavy traffic, you can't personally manage everyone's looks. So, you rely on your trusted assistants to cater to everyone's preferences, under your guidance, of course.

One of the clients you couldn't personally attend to was Mingyu. He called you, disappointed, when he saw your assistant, Monica, standing at his hotel room door with a clothing rack to present him with outfit options for tomorrow's show.

“Why did you send your minion here? I thought you were coming?” You hear the pout in his lowered voice.

“I'm at a fitting with another client at their hotel, and it's running late,” you whisper into the phone, then motion to an intern to approve your client's accessories. “Also, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call her that. She's my second-in-command, and I trust her judgment. I can't be everywhere at once, so some compromises had to be made.”

Mingyu’s debut appearance at a major fashion show was a big deal for him and his career. Since his appearance was announced, you prepared accordingly, discussing options based on the fashion house's lookbook. Having worked closely with Mingyu for over a year, you're well-versed in his style preferences. Before he left for Paris, you had shortlisted two outfit options, which is why you felt confident leaving Monica in charge.

“So, I’m the one compromised? I heard you’re dressing a couple of people for Chanel and another one for Saint Laurent. You can’t do that for me?” He huffs out.

You hiss through gritted teeth and excuse yourself to take the rest of your call in the bathroom. “There’s no need to be childish! Those two shows are right next to each other, while yours is across town. I can’t reach you in that short timeframe. Have you seen the traffic?”

He eventually concedes, softening his tone. “I’m sorry. I was just…hoping to see you since we're both in town. I thought that maybe we could grab dinner tonight at that restaurant we went to last time?”

You sigh, wishing it could be that simple. Instead of responding to his invitation, you run through tomorrow’s schedule. “I have another fitting tomorrow afternoon and a meeting after that. Olivier is also hosting a party tomorrow night after the Balmain show, so I don’t know—”

“I can meet you after your last event, just tell me where.”

“You can’t just show up randomly. There’s going to be other designers and stylists. You might feel out of place since you won’t know anybody,” you reason.

“You can always introduce me,” he suggests.

“As what?”

He’s silent for a few beats then says, “Your client?”

You chuckle, feeling a hint of embarrassment due to your presumptions. You've never clarified the nature of your relationship. Since you’re part of his team’s regular stylists, you have to stay professional, especially around staff and his other teammates. Occasionally, when he can steal a quiet moment, he whispers what he'd like to do when he gets you alone.

“Gyu—”

“Please? I miss you,” he pleads quietly.

Apart from the occasional sexy video calls, you haven't seen each other in over a month due to your busy work schedules. As much as you try to convince yourself that you don’t feel the same, hearing the need in his voice makes your chest twinge.

You open your mouth to answer but a knock on the bathroom door startles you. It’s the intern, telling you that your client needs your opinion on shoes.

You sigh, cursing under your breath. “I have to go. Just trust Monica, okay?”

You didn't wait for him to respond before you hung up. You didn't want to hear the disappointment in his voice. You wished you could leave all the work to your staff and head off to dinner with Mingyu, then go to bed with him. But there were too many eyes on Paris this week, especially on him.

This wasn’t like one of your clandestine meetings. He was more recognizable now, which meant photos could be snapped of you and him anywhere. When that happens, it’ll be all over.

After that call, you didn't hear from him for the rest of the night.

********

“So, how did you pick your outfit today?”

The question, posed by one of many journalists in the bustling press line of the fashion show’s venue, brings a warm smile to Mingyu's face.

“This outfit?” He took a moment before responding, his eyes had a hint of nostalgia as he revisited the process that eventually led up to the ensemble he was dressed in.

“Ah, well. My team put it together!” His response elicits laughter from both the photographers and the journalist.

“No, but seriously, I like clean, timeless looks with hints of detail and different textures to keep it interesting. My stylist knows me very well, and she has a great eye.” He finishes with that million-dollar smile of his, leaving the journalist flustered.

“Well,” the journalist says, “Sounds like someone out there deserves a nice bonus.”

“Oh, I agree!” He looks straight into the camera and gives a subtle wink at it right before the clip ends.

You chuckle and shake your head at your phone, swiping away to close out of full-screen mode.

Earlier this morning, he texted you a photo of his final look. He had chosen the blue suit and bejeweled button-down shirt, the ensemble you put together, and hoped he would go for. His choice delighted you, despite how sour your phone call ended last night.

You sent a text to Monica, thanking her for the link to Mingyu's interview clip and complimenting her on her first solo styling job.

She responded, saying that you did 90% of the work. She merely pulled together what made sense, and you approved.

You laugh. She's right, but she would at least get credit in the magazines and fashion blogs where Mingyu's photos would appear.

********

It was well past midnight when you got out of the limo with a couple of colleagues and walked into the hotel lobby, coming back from an after-party when your phone rang. You fish it out of your pocket and drunkenly squint your eyes at the caller ID.

It was Mingyu. You slide across your screen to answer it.

“Hey. Where are you?” His voice was gruff, like he had just woken up or maybe had a few drinks.

“I just got in from Olivier’s party.”

“Mm, how was that?”

“Good. We had fun. Nice way to cap off fashion week.”

He hums in response. “Are you back in your room?”

“Not yet but I’m heading up there soon. What’s up?” You step into the elevator and punch your floor number.

He sighs softly on the other line. “Nothing. Just wanted to make sure that you were back safe.”

“Uh-huh,” you say skeptically.

The elevator dings and stops at your floor. You step out and follow the hallway toward your room. “Why don't you tell me what's really going on?”

As you look ahead, you slow down upon seeing someone leaning against your doorway. How did he even… you stop that thought right away, not wanting to know all the details.

“I was hoping to say goodnight to you,” he says into the phone as you stop in front of him.

You glance at your watch and tell him, “But it’s already 2 in the morning.”

“So, good morning then?” he smirked. Then, his eyes rake you from head to toe. “You look nice.”

Judging by what you recall from your reflection in the elevator's mirror, you knew you were anything but. “Thanks. You look…clean.”

He was showered, barefaced, and dressed in sweats, his hair sticking out in every direction. Now this was the version of Mingyu you were used to seeing in private.

“Can I put you to bed?”

You bit your lip as he moved in closer. The thought was tempting, but you were aware that other staff members were staying on the same floor. But it was also late, and they were likely asleep. Perhaps a little nightcap wouldn't be too bad.

Before you can answer, you freeze when the door across the hall opens. Monica pops her head out, her sleep mask perched atop her head. “Oh, hey guys! I thought I heard voices. What are you doing here?” She directs her question at Mingyu.

“We were just talking,” he tells her with an innocent smile, relieved she didn't see him enter your room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?” She looks worried, assuming that Mingyu is there to tell you that she did an awful job, despite reassuring her that she did great filling in for you.

“All good! He and I just ran into each other in the lobby and started discussing an upcoming shoot,” you say apologetically.

“We'll try to keep it down,” Mingyu adds.

“No worries. I have a white noise machine,” Monica replies with a knowing smile. “You can be as loud as you want.”

Your mouth falls open as she casually turns back into her room and closes the door. 

Mingyu suppresses a laugh. “You think she knows?”

You smack him on the chest and roll your eyes, making him giggle some more.

“You're lucky I pay her well,” you say, reaching into your purse for your key card. You swipe it on the door sensor and step inside while he's still laughing. “Are you coming in or not?”

He laughs even harder, but he follows you right in.

********

“Did you like Monica’s picks?” you call out from the bathroom, as you finish up your skincare routine.

“You mean what you picked?” he retorts.

“I wasn't even there! That was all her.”

“He snorts at your comment. “You think she pulled those pieces all on her own without your sign-off?” He snacks on a few pomme frites that he ordered from room service during your quick shower.

“I've been training her for a couple of years. She deserves some credit,” you reply as you reenter the room in an oversized shirt, walking towards him on the couch, and taking some fries. 

“I mean, she's good, but she doesn't know me that well.” He pauses to watch you settle next to him. “You do, though.”

“Then let her get to know you! Help her out a little.” You suggest, barely looking up from your phone.

“You mean the way I got to know you? Is that what you want?” 

You tense up and purse your lips. However, considering you have no claim on Mingyu, you have no right to feel upset.

“I'm just saying—I can't always be where you need me to be and…you’re free to do what you want.” You clear your throat, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He lets out a sigh, pulling your phone down to get your attention. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want anybody else to get to know me.”

You could hear the yearning in his voice, something you didn’t quite expect.

After years in the industry, you told yourself you’d never get involved with a client. And then Mingyu came along. People were naturally drawn to him, and even you weren’t immune to his charms. He was always sweet, and you assumed he treated everyone who worked for him the same way. It wasn’t until after an overseas photoshoot followed by celebratory drinks with him and his staff, that you let your guard down.

What you initially saw as a one-time slip-up gradually became a series of encounters, each growing more intimate than the last. But you couldn’t stay in that mindset. You couldn’t get your hopes up, especially with someone as famous as he was. Not only was it bad for business but it was bad for you.

“I’m not playing games.”

“Neither am I.” He says evenly. “The fact is, I want you and I’m tired of sharing you with other people.”

You scoff at his audacious remark. “Look, it’s my job—”

He shakes his head and interjects. “You know what I mean. I want to make things official…with you. Just you.”

You sigh. “You know that we can’t.” Even though everything in you wants to scream yes.

“You can’t or won’t?”

“I know that you can't,” you counter. He's just too... public. Not only are you concerned about your reputation, but you're mostly worried about the backlash if his fans ever find out about you and him. The stakes are higher for him.

“That’s not true. It’s not like I’m a prisoner.” 

You chuckle humorlessly, as if he doesn’t see how this won’t end well for either of you. “I know how this business works, okay?”

“You think I don’t know that either? I just want us to try. I feel that there’s something more between us. And I know you feel it, too.” He reaches out and rests his hand on your bare knee.

Your skin tingles with the warmth of his touch. It’s been too long since you last felt it, and you’re ashamed to admit how much you missed it. Craved it, even.

You stare at his hand, now snaking past the hem of your shirt. “There are a million reasons why we shouldn’t do this.”

“Then let’s do it for the reasons that we should,” he retorts, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. You quickly realize that was a big mistake.

His eyes quietly pleaded, causing the knot in your stomach to tighten. Things weren't going to be easy. A million questions swirled in your head, but he quieted all except one as his face drew closer.

“How would we even do this?” You ask softly.

“Let me worry about that. I just need you to tell me that you want the same thing.”

Your hand lifts to his neck, fingers grazing his jawline, then up his cheek. He sighs softly, melting under your touch.

After a few beats, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You know, part of me feels like I’m letting you off easy. Maybe I should let you work for it a little?”

A smile ghosted his lips. He lowered his head, his voice deep and sexy. “I’ll work for it now.”

Even though you see the kiss coming, it still knocks you out. Mingyu’s lips meet yours, his tongue stroking greedily into your mouth. “C’mere,” he says roughly before urging you onto his lap.

Your phone rings, but you silence it quickly before chucking it, not caring where it lands. You tangle your fingers in Mingyu's hair, holding his head while you kiss him ardently. God, you love kissing him. The feel of his lips and the rough sounds of pleasure he makes are music to your ears. He’s ravenous for you, just as you are for him. He catches one of your wrists and pulls your hand over his chest, pressing it flat so you can feel his heart pounding.

“This all you,” he breathes against your mouth.

And with that, your walls come down. You’re done for.

You tear at each other’s clothing, yanking off each other’s shirts. You’re desperate to feel him, your lips and teeth catching every inch of his golden skin. At this point, you don’t care if other staff hear you throughout this floor.

He urges you backward until you feel the armrest of the couch behind you. Kissing you deeply, he cups one of your breasts in his hand, kneading it before pushing the bra cup down to touch your bare skin.

You fumble with the drawstring of his pants, whilst palming him through the material, feeling how hard he already is. You growl in frustration when he pulls your hands away.

He shakes his head and tuts. “You first.” Clever fingers circle your nipple and roll it, sending shocks of delight straight to your core.

The next moment, that mouth you love to kiss is on your breast, surrounding your tender nipple. His tongue flicks at the tip, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks. His other hand is between your legs, rubbing your aching cleft through your panties, teasing you even more by grinding his length against your thigh.

His scent surrounds you, just as his hands and mouth are all over you. You want some control, but he’s too strong, too quick, sliding lower before you can catch him.

He keeps his gaze on you as he tugs your panties down your legs. Your center clenches at how much that turns you on.

You sit up slightly to unclasp your bra, tossing it while Mingyu scoots back, lifting his hips to shove his sweats and boxer briefs out of the way. 

In an instant, he’s on you again–too impatient to strip all the way naked. He pins your hips down, urging your thighs further apart while he lines himself up to your center, and slowly pushes in. Lowering his head, he groans right in your ear, feeling how tight you are for him. 

You pant as he burrows deeper. Your nails dig into his back and your legs tighten around his waist. You’re wetter by the moment, rendered helpless by the way his hips move, his body mindlessly seeking a deeper connection to yours.

You gasp when he slides in deeper, your hips fighting his hold, needing to arch upward.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, pulling back an inch and thrusting again.

He pulls out abruptly, leaving you empty and aching, but not for long. His mouth is there between your legs, licking, sucking on your clit, and fluttering over the bundle of nerves. Your hands fist at the cushions, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You went from zero to sixty so fast that your orgasm takes you by surprise.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out.

Shivers of pleasure course through you as you suck in air. He keeps your legs spread wide with his shoulders, holding you in place, as he slips two fingers inside.  He moves them in and out slowly, circling your clit in between. He teases you a few more times, edging you, making you desperate for his cock.

The instant he shifts to slide over you again, you seize the moment to push him to the other end of the couch. He doesn’t put up a fight as you move to straddle his hips. He simply leans back, his eyes wide, cheeks flushed from arousal, waiting for your next move.

You reach for his cock under you, fisting it slowly. He fights to keep his eyes open but the pleasure you give him feels too good. His chest heaves and he lets out a drawn-out groan. 

Fuck, he was hot. And the way his hands grip your hips tightly as you position him to your center drives you insane with the need to ride him hard.

You slide the tip between your folds, coating him with your slick before your hips sink in one swift move. Your mouths fall open when your ass hits the tops of his thighs, both of you relishing in the sensation. You rest your hands on his shoulders for leverage and roll your hips toward him slowly. His neck arches, letting out a groan of pleasure between clenched teeth.

His hands reach up to cup your breasts, palming them, and pinching your nipples, making you hiss at the perfect combination of pain and pleasure. “Ah…Mingyu...fuck, yes…”

Once you find your rhythm, he thrusts upward, meeting your hips. You push your fingers into his hair, cupping the back of his head to hold him close.

He nuzzles against your temple. “You want this?”

Your nodding wasn’t enough for him.

“Say it.”

So you say it loud and clear for him. “Yes, I want this. I want you.” 

With a shift of his hips, the tip of his cock notches into your opening. Pressure builds as he fucks into you. Slow, easy thrusts that work him into you with every lunge. Your entire body tenses, as he sinks deep into your core. You feel yourself inch closer and closer to your climax.

Your grip on him tightens, and you grind your hips, matching his every move to direct him into where it feels good.

“Kiss me,” you gasp.

Soon after his mouth makes contact with yours, your body surrenders to him. Tears sting your eyes when the tension in you breaks, and you come harder than you did the first time.

The pulsing only deepens as Mingyu continues to pound into you, chasing his own climax. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he finally reaches it, tethering his orgasm to yours.

It's one of the most intense sensations you've ever felt. Despite your body's natural instinct to pull away, your mind resists. The steady thrum of your heartbeat soothes you, and you stay there, quietly relishing the comfort in each other's arms.

********

Reluctantly, you take a second shower, with him doing most of the work cleaning you up. Afterwards, you crawl into bed. You watch him, carefully tucking you in, mildly annoyed that he can move and think clearly while you're still stuck in a post-orgasmic haze.

When he finally flops into bed beside you, you turn to face him. “How are you still moving around?”

He props his head in his hand and grins, his fingers running lightly down your cleavage. “Did you forget the ten minutes it took me to get up?”

“I’m making sure you’re down for the count next time,” you pout playfully.

“Hmm...” Leaning over you, he presses his lips to yours. “I’m just happy there’s a next time.”

You nod, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Lots of next times.”

Reaching up, you brush his hair back from his forehead. His post-sex look is even more breathtaking. His face is softer, his eyes are brighter, and that smile… you sigh deeply. He looks so happy that it twists your heart to think that you had a hand in that without even really trying. Yet, this also worries you, knowing it would be devastating if that smile ever faded.

“I’m scared, you know,” you confess.

He lifts your hand and presses his lips to it. A few moments of silence pass before he replies, “Yeah. Me too.” You don’t even want to think about how the staff will react when they see him walk out of your room in a few hours.

His facial expression tenses, and you immediately regret bringing it up. You pull him closer, holding him tightly as a silent apology.

“Can we agree not to bring anything but us into bed?” he murmurs, running his nose along your cheek before pulling away slightly to look at you. “I just want us to have some place where nothing else matters but you and me.”

“Okay.” You nod, your hands stroking up and down his back. Burying your face in his chest, you breathe in, letting the familiar scent of his skin ground you in the moment.

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you so much for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

[devotedfem]

→ Control

Synopsis: Taehyung was from the SWAT team special force, and you were a russian spy holding him hostage to use him as a bait. But... were you really in control? He doesn't think so.

K. Taehyung x f.reader

Genre: detective au | yander-ish.

Tags: militar Taehyung, spy reader, kind of enemies to lovers, strong reader, yander-ish, kidnapping, mention of torture, obsessive Taehyung, hidden identity, spies, cocky Taehyung, sexual tension, blood, violence.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Taehyung’s forehead wound was dripping blood to the ground, the sound of it made something inside of you recoil, but you ignored the feeling.

You kidnapped him by orders of your boss. The man in front of you was from the swat team, and you have the task of getting information out of him. If it’s in a nice or violent way was up to him.

You dragged him to a basement with a blow to his head, and now he was unconscious with his head tilted to the side, dripping blood out of his wound.

You were sitting in front of him, realizing he was quite handsome.

After a couple of minutes, he blinked his eyes open. At first, he looked lost and confused, but then his gaze fell upon you, and to your bitter surprise he smirked.

You snorted incredulous, you expected anything but a smirk from him after he literally got a blow to his forehead.

“What the fuck are you smirking at?” Your thick accent made him smirk wider, and you lift a brow feeling rage running your veins. He was not in control here.

“There’s no need to be so riled up, y/n,” he said with a hoarse voice, lifting the corner of his lips with a drop of blood running to his chin.

Your breath hitched but you tried to hide your surprise with an expressionless facade. Your heart was beating fast against your ribcage, he wasn’t supposed to know your real identity, you were a spy for god’s sake. No one in this country knew your real name, so it was very frightening that he just said your name like if it’s nothing.

“Looks like the prey knows my name, so what? We’re not here for a friendly meeting, you’re here to tell me where’s your boss hideout. Just spill everything you know, a long torture session will be exhausting for the both of us.”

You were nonchalant and cold, it wasn’t the first time you torture someone to get information out of them, but it was the first time your target seemed to enjoy being in this position.

It was unnerving to see Taehyung’s grin.

“My, my, are you sure I am the prey here?” he asked lowly, with a dangerous glint in his eyes. The piercing and dark gaze that was fixed on you made you feel intimidated.

And you never, ever, felt intimidated in your life.

“Shut the fuck up Taehyung, or I’ll fucking break your legs, don’t test my patience,” you warned, but your tone tremble just a little, and he noticed.

He pouted, and it was an alarming but endearing sight to witness. You felt confused, as if you were in a stranger territory.

“Well, as you said, let’s finish this quickly. A long session will be exhausting indeed.”

You frowned confused, ready to bark him to shut up or punch him in the face, but nothing of that happened, because the next second Taehyung freed himself from his restrains, and you realized with horror that he was just distracting you all this time. You failed on something so basic as not letting your target to distract you, but that is a hard thing to do when it comes to Taehyung.

He grabbed your jaw forcibly making you whimper with pain, the sound only made him grin wider. The glint of his crazed eyes shining with darkness.

Despite your screams, struggles and threats, he bounded your wrists and ankles, making you kneel in front of him.

He grabbed your chin to make you look up at him, and he looked dangerous like this. With his other hand he cleaned his forehead, and a mischievous smirk was your only warn before he stained your lips with his blood. You freeze, you wanted to gag so bad but you were genuinely afraid of his reaction, so you did nothing but to stare up at him.

“Lick it,” he ordered with a dark voice.

And you did it, licking your lips with your tongue, feeling Taehyung’s heavy gaze on you.

“I changed my mind, I will prolong this torture session,” he said wrapping his hand on your neck, with a mischievous smirk and a darkened gaze pierced on you.

You couldn’t help but shed tears, you were so, so fucked up.

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[itsonlydana]

hello! I see you have requests open...(?) for the hobbit/lotr, and I was wondering if I could request a modern!thranduil x reader fanfiction? the reader is some sort of barista/baker/other thing, and Thranduil is obviously all rich and shit and comes in once, is enamoured by shy, flustered reader and then becomes a regular? obviously, they end up together in the end. thank you!

Lattes and Love | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

it's a rainy monday, perfect for a meet-cute with the new, handsome and rich customer that you totally don't embaress yourself in front of

tags/warnings: coffeeshop!au, fluff

word count: 2,7k

an: oh, this was such a good request! Thoroughly loved writing it :)

+ masterlist + rules + 🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"Falling for customers strictly forbidden!" was the non-negotiable rule for anyone who found themselves working at the loveliest café in Laketown; 'Beans & Leafs'.

Despite being written out on a wooden board behind the counter and in the kitchen, this rule was obviously ignored by more than half of the employees; the others were either happily coupled up, had no interest in romance, or had such an unhealthy work-life balance that this didn't matter anyway.

You, on the other hand, a longtime single and die-hard lover of romance novels, were one of the employees who couldn't go a month without an over-the-counter crush, serving coffees and teas as well as heart eyes and shy blushes.

You had perfected your craft of pouring coffee while thinking of scenarios where, instead of getting a tip, the handsome brunette with the gentle smile would wait until the end of your shift and invite you out for not coffee, but a drink, perhaps.

These fantasies did no one any harm; you would even go as far as to debate that the love you pledged for the customers was an ingredient that fitted exquisitely into the crushed beans and steamed milk.

There had never been any complaints, so there was no reason whatsoever why your boss, Bard, flung his arm out and pointed at the sign when the doorbell chimed one rainy Monday morning.

The weather had been particularly awful the entire weekend, clouds hanging low and leaving you to barricade yourself into your apartment, and when you'd left the house this morning, paddling away on your bike and avoiding muddy puddles as well as you could, the skies were still gray and gloomy. Inside the café the warm lamps tried their best to fight against the pale sunlight that fell through rain-streaked windows, coloring everything in washed-out watercolors.

When you followed the length of Bard's hand however it was as if the sun broke through, even if it was only for the few seconds you stared at the man who just entered the shop and stepped into the small line of customers.

He was breathtakingly gorgeous, right up the alley of models you saw in fashion magazines with his sharp cheekbones and the pair of high-waisted jeans that hugged his waist perfectly. Even his long black coat seemed like it was tailored for his broad shoulders and he looked, by all means, expensive.

"Eyes, Darlin', eyes."

It was only when Bard gently nudged his hip against yours as he passed you from behind and tapped one finger against the sign again, that you bewilderedly realized that hadn't been a direction to the customer's eyes – oh boy, they were twinkling like starlight – but rather a command to advert yours.

"Stop bossing me around," you groaned quietly, glad for the jazz music that played from speakers over your head and the chatter of the few other customers that had found their way into the 'Beans & Leafs'.

"I am your boss. I have every right to command you 'round," Bard said, knocking his knuckles against the sign, "And a rule 's a rule. Doesn't matter if you're the best worker I've got 'round here."

You stuck your tongue out at him of the corner of your mouth under the pretense that it was nothing but concentration over the milk you were pouring into a cup for the customer in front of you.

"You're so annoying," you said as you turned your back on the counter to grab a new cup. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

The question was directed at Bard but it's not his warm voice that answers your teasingly snappy question, but a deeper one without the familiar drip of Bard's accent:

"Yes, actually, so I would appreciate my latte with three shots of espresso for takeaway please."

You immediately flew around, hot shame bubbling up straight into your cheeks as you squealed, "Oh shit– I mean, shit, sorry!"

Of course. Of course, the 6ft beauty was the next in line, casually resting one arm on the counter and scrutinizing you with those captivating bright eyes that, now that he stared at you and there wasn't anything between you except the bar and miles of shame, did look exactly like starlight. This was so unprofessional and it didn't help that you were frozen on the spot.

You heard Bard's rough laughter, saw him shaking his head in not-so-quiet disbelief out of your peripheral vision and it only fueled the blush that took over your whole face. "I'm so sorry," you apologized and lowered your chin to look away from the customer and down to the coffee machine instead.

Flaming red cheeks reflected in the silver metal greeted you as you let the machine take over for the espresso – arabica beans from Brasille, rich, sweet and slightly nutty, and, if brewed correctly, which you always managed, would leave a lingering taste reminiscent of dark chocolate. "Whole milk, oat, almond, or soy?" you asked, swallowing the lump of embarrassment that was lodged in your throat.

"Oat, please."

You nodded and fell into the rhythm that you were used to, that, despite the hope the ground would tear up and swallow you completly, comes like second nature. "I just want to let you know that I truly wasn't talking to you," you started and foamed up the milk, hiding behind the steam.

The customer huffed out an amused laugh. "No? You're only that cheeky to your employer?"

Great, now he thought you were an employee who didn't respect her higher-ups. "No no! It's a joke," you cringed at the nervous chuckle you laughed, "Nothing serious, just joking. He knows I would never disrespect him, he's a good boss, one of the best actually! And–" you heard your rambling and wanted to close your eyes at the next blink and never open them again, "– and I should probably stop talking now."

Bard passed you again, patting one hand fatherly on your shoulder though this helped barely because the slight touch immediately zipped straight through your spine. In what could only be described as unfortunate timing your arm flinched forward, breaking the carefully concentrated pouring of steamed milk into the paper cup, and to your horror you watched as the foam parted through the coffee.

And created the perfect heart.

You gave yourself a second to breathe, to stare down into the paper cup and this was totally fine; you made latte art all the time and most of your favorite customers got a heart one day or another. And even if you didn't know the man at all and already made a fool out of yourself, other coffee places did this as well.

It's just coffee.

But it was never just coffee with all the love you poured into it, wasn't it?

So you steeled yourself, ignored the churning of your stomach, and plastered on a flustered smile. "Here's your coffee, Sir." The heart cheekily smiled right back, foam bobbing on top and this was definitely a moment you would be thinking about, maybe even use as an opportunity to reevaluate the importance of Bard's stupid sign. "Cash or card?"

He already pulled out a sleek wallet, manicured nails and long fingers pushed a neat $20 over to you. He wore a smirk, the corners of his mouth turned so far up that white teeth showed and dimples buried themselves into his cheeks. "Cash. I suspect the tips go straight to–" one finger lifted and pointed straight forward, "you?"

"Me," you repeated and quickly shook your head, "I mean yes, they go to me."

"Good," he chuckled, "wouldn't want anyone else to share what you earned rightfully, don't we? Keep the change."

"But Sir!" you protested because this tip was ludicrously big for a latte; more than double the amount of what he had paid for the drink on its own without the free show of you being a complete fool.

The man arched an eyebrow though it carried nothing but curiosity instead of the superiority that it would communicate by an older, more stuffy guy.

You busied your hands, cleaned the frother, and emptied the remaining ground coffee into the trash before you ran a rag over the machine, or otherwise, the probability of ruining your nailbeds was much too high. "The coffee's maybe not to your liking – what if you absolutely hate it?"

"Then I will simply order another one another time," he replied and the hope that sprung up inside your chest, another time– another visit, he would come back– bounced around your ribcage and threatened to burst right through.

Your throat clicked as you swallowed, looking up from the dark brown coffee that filled the next mug, coffee black, arabica beans imported from Peru, fruity and perfect for the cappuccino order, up to the man, this stunning beautiful man who tipped like he could throw away money and not notice the amount missing, the epitome of all what you've dreamed about and exceeding those standards the longer he stood around.

You grabbed the opportunity, damned the sign because why the hell should anyone be forbidden to fall in love with him and bit down on your lower lip, smiling softy.

"Could I get your name?"

"I already have my coffee," he said amused and the heat was back in your cheeks. "But it's Thranduil. Nice to meet you," Thranduil's starlight eyes dropped to the name-pin buttoned to your apron and flittered back up, warm and deep voice wrapping around your name in a manner that was close to too overwhelming. "Now, let's try this drink, shall we?"

Completely entranced by his soft-looking lips that twitched back into a smile at the sight of the heart, eyes locking on yours again as he lifted the cup, you watched him take a sip.

A soft hum.

Long lashes fluttering shut against the apple of his cheek.

Yep, there was no way back from this. By the end of your shift, you would probably bike home and dream about this moment, when Thranduil opened his eyes again and you were still staring, caught despite the line forming behind him, other customers held up by Bard, this wonderful man you would never ask anything of him ever again, and Thranduil competed in the new game of who would look away first.

"Sweet," his voice was still deep, coated by a warmness that only satisfactory coffee would bring, and you swore you tasted the chocolate on your tongue as you bit down on it.

The way your eyes scanned the work area to check if you had accidentally poured sugar into his coffee, he didn't order any, right? – and while the oak milk carried some sweetness with it, it wasn't much but what if– were a clear message of slight panic, nervousness of having gotten his order wrong and Thranduil quickly deescalated the deep frown forming in your eyebrows.

"Ah, don't worry. I wasn't talking about the coffee," Thranduil said, and, lifting the cup to his lips, he winked at you over the rim.

He left you like that, mouth hanging slightly open while your mind ran the calculation of whether or not he had flirted with you.

You spent the rest of the day in a haze, only managing the midday and afternoon rush with the memory of Thranduil whom you swore, you saw rushing past the window of the shop in the evening, long hair flying in the wind at his quick steps and if your mind didn't play tricks on you, his head turned when he passed you, eyes finding yours in a second that quietened down all the sounds.

The next day, he came in again, a phone pressed to his ear and an apologetic voiceless: "So sorry," when the call was seemingly important enough for him to take his latte, foam-heart included, and dashed back outside, leaving you another hefty tip but no further interaction.

You sighed.

For good measure, you even glared at the sign.

Thranduil stopped by on his way to work every morning from Monday, Thursday and Friday, ordering his latte until it waited for him at exactly 7:45, the heart inside the coffee wandering onto the takeaway cup when you started scribbling his name onto it, first on the dot of the 'i' and then, later, when you were brave enough, next to the name.

It was a hurdle, more than often you had the sharpie pressed into the paper, blacking out from sheer panic that seeped through you like the dark ink that ended up either a smiley or a flower or full stop.

Thranduil would come in, sweep you off your feet by simply smiling or smirking at the new doodle on his coffee, steaming hot as soon as the bell announced his arrival, and leave. Never without tipping you enough for you to buy a new bike at the end of the first month of him visiting the 'Beans & Leafs'.

On Saturdays, Thranduil came in and settled his tall body into one of the window tables, entirely oblivious to all the ogling he got from passersby as well as customers, they stared all the same at his beauty and the weekend always got better because his sole focus was on you.

On Saturdays, he got his coffee, a Cappuccino served in dark blue mugs that complimented his white-blond hair and the rosé of his lips that savored every last drop, and he started asking you for your opinions on the breakfast options.

The first time he did it, long legs crossed over each other and his head propped up on his hands listening intently, you rambled on the entirety of the menu, babbling on and on and on:

"We got wonderful apple rose tarts, that truly look like roses, and rhubarb pie or a lemon shortcake – that one goes perfectly with the chocolaty taste of the coffee beans! And we have croissants, banana bread, and a cheese Danish!"

"Mhmm, all of those sound ama–" Thranduil started but was interrupted by your nervous continuing chatter:

"And of course, you could have a chicken and avocado sandwich, if you want something more savory. Or our chefs make a mean bacon and egg one with arugula and a blueberry vinaigrette?" you asked and threw a quick look to Thranduil who hid his amused smile that lit up his whole face behind his fingers. "Oh, or are you a vegetarian? Then I would recommend the olive, tomato and hummus bagel, but maybe you don't like olives. For that, we have a walnut quiche–"

"Yes, I am vegetarian–"

The smile bloomed past the, noticeably large, hands, the corner of his mouth curling up while his eyebrows furrowed in the concentration of keeping still, watching you in awe as your breath held on far longer than his ability to remain calm and it was only a matter of time until you were done.

Your eyes landed on the dimples, the soft crow feet next to his eyes, and low on oxygen you finally managed to detangle yourself from the menu that you had previously, in preparation for this moment, had carefully written down on your notesblock, the page now crinkled at the edges and most of the ink smeared under the hard press of your thumbs.

"Great! Do you want me to repeat the vegetarian options?"

Thranduil ordered all of your recommendations.

Not all at once, it wasn't past you to bring out dozens of plates at his request but Thranduil kept to two cups of coffee and worked his way through the display of cakes, pies, breads, rolls and sandwiches, always prepared by you.

You served him his first coffee with a heart in his mug and a plate for him to eat and after rushing through the next hour, eyes locking across the room now and again whenever you looked up from the coffee machine and he from his plate, you would bring him his second cup, carrying the heart-coffee and another one for you to sip on during your break, legs brushing against each other under the small table.

It was there, at this table, that Thranduil asked you out, not two months after the first interaction.

It was also at this table that he kissed you for the first time, tasting like love, lattes and a bit of chocolate.

©itsonlydana 2024, character art by MiracleAna on Devianart

[bellaveux]

uhm uhm college!wanda rq where her and r go to their first party and r accidentally gets really drunk cus shes a lightweight n nat makes a move on r cus she is sorta out of it and wanda gets jelly finally makes it known that they're together ( happy ending and fluff pls, wanda deserves it <3)

MY GIRLFRIEND | w. maximoff x fem!reader

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: when someone makes a move on you while you are drunk out of your mind, wanda has no problem showing them who you belong to.

content warnings: not much! college au, wanda being touchy is all, possessive! wanda, alcohol consumption (reader is drunk), very minor natasha romanoff x reader, wanda calls you baby a lot ;)

word count: 1.2k

notes: short fic for today while i complete the other requests! i hope u like it !!

She had never seen you so drunk before. It was a surprise, really, finding out you were such a lightweight. You were cocky, despite the fact that you always seemed to be composed, but tonight, you were taking shots left and right until Wanda had to tell you to slow down. In truth, a part of her was worried and the other part of her was amused. Giggles fell from your lips underneath the pulsating music, the vibrant chatter, and the soft glow of neon lights highlighting your every curve. You were truly beautiful tonight, and before the two of you arrived to this party, she almost considered abandoning it all together, just to have you to herself for the rest of the night.

It was your first time out together in public as a couple. No one really knew–you hadn’t gotten around to telling anybody yet. It had only been less than two weeks since she asked you to be her girlfriend. And it was heaven. It was the beginning of a love that you couldn’t wait to grow. She was so sweet. Always took care of you. Always there for you. She’d do anything for you if you asked. And, right now, seeing you so out of it, drunk off of the endless alcohol that seemed to find its way into your red cup, had her feeling protective over you. Like she had to take you away.

“I’m gonna get the car, baby,” she said, leaning close into you ear so you could hear her properly.

You hummed out an incoherent response, your arms making their way slowly around her neck as you leaned into her, wanting nothing more than to be in the arms of your beautiful girlfriend.

“Stay here and don’t move,” Wanda kissed your forehead before carefully slipping from your hold. “I’ll come get you. Just wait for me.”

Then, she left.

She didn’t drink at all tonight, especially when she saw you take your first shot, knowing she’d be the one responsible to take you home. She had to be quick about it, not wasting any time jogging over to where she parked her car near the end of the road. Loads of people were here, wanting to get a taste of being inside this rich kid’s mansion just for some stupid frat party–rich kid being none other than her friend Tony.

After pulling her car up closer, Wanda ran back in to search for you. Surprisingly, you didn’t move from your spot at all, staying in place just like she told you to. But as she got closer, another figure came into view and Wanda’s eyes darkened at the sight. A redhead. Red lipstick. With leather on her shoulders. Natasha Romanoff. Your girlfriend’s smile fell at the sight.

“Wanda!” You immediately pulled away from the redhead, rushing right over to her as she walked closer.

Your girlfriend kept her eyes on Natasha’s, staring at her with a dangerous and jealous glare. Her arms wrapped around your waist slowly, her hands slipping underneath the hem of your shirt with the pads of her fingers meeting the soft skin of your back, all while she continued to stare at the redhead. You honestly were too drunk to notice the unbreakable tension between the two of them, completely unaware of the internal battle within their eyes. It was never a secret. Wanda had always known about Natasha’s interest in you, and not once did she ever take a liking to it–especially now.

“You need something, Nat?” Wanda asked slyly as her hand traveled up your back, not breaking eye contact with her for even a second.

“We were talking,” she replied, holding her stare as well, just as strong as she was. “Is it wrong for me to talk to a pretty lady?”

“Not at all.” Wanda shook her head and smiled bitterly, “But, touching my girlfriend is.”

You leaned in closer, nuzzling your face against Wanda’s neck as she spoke. A breathy but quiet moan falls from your mouth as you began to feel lightheaded. You couldn’t really tell whether it was the alcohol or the way Wanda’s hands dragged themselves along your back sensually. It was probably both. Probably just Wanda. She had a knack for that sort of thing anyway.

“Girlfriend?” Natasha’s eyes widen as she eyed the way Wanda touched you.

Wanda smirked again and moved her head to place a tender kiss behind your ear, still staring at Natasha as she did so. She whispered in your ear, making sure the redhead heard her as well. “Right, baby?”

“Mhmmm,” you nod against her neck.

Natasha’s eyebrow twitched up in annoyance. A subtle scowl crossed her face, realizing she’d have to abandon her attempts in getting your attention. Wanda pulled you even closer to her body.

“If you’ll excuse us…”

After giving Natasha another glare, your girlfriend carefully guided you out of the mansion and straight into her car. With tiny grunts and whimpers slipping past your lips, you sat in her car waiting patiently for her to get in. As soon as she did, you attempted to move close to her, trying to get into her warm embrace once again. Wanda chuckled and gently pushed you back into your seat, muttering something along the lines of “later, baby.” You couldn’t really tell.

The rest of the car ride back to the dorms were just a blurry stream of lights and laughter to you. As Wanda’s car rolled toward your dorm, the effects of the alcohol rendered the journey a hazy backdrop, and you, lost in your own tipsy reverie, barely registered Wanda's gentle assistance when they arrived—unaware of the caring support that guided you through the door.

You were touchy, she noticed. Clingy. Oh, so clingy. It was adorable–even with how you mumbled out her name when she’d walk away for just a couple of seconds to grab some wipes to help you get your makeup off. All you did was look for her, all drowsy and dizzy. She’d gently help you get out of your dress and your heels and into something more comfortable for you to sleep in.

“Mm… ‘m tired…” You’d mumble, reaching out to your girlfriend, who seemed to be so far away when she was just on the other side of the room, getting ready to get in bed with you. “You’re so… far…”

“I’m coming, baby, one second,” Wanda smiled softly at you as she took her earrings off and placed it neatly on your dresser.

“My girlfriend is so pretty…” You mumbled, eyes fluttering closed soon after.

“You should see mine,” she replied as her smile grew wider at the sound of your voice.

Wanda watched as you groaned into your pillow, “Of course, you have a girlfriend.”

“It’s you, baby,” but her words fell on deaf ears.

You laid in your bed, a picture of adorable weariness. The effects of the alcohol painted your features with a sleepy charm, creating an endearing tableau of vulnerability that tugged at Wanda’s heartstrings. After a few moments, she slipped into under the blankets and you immediately scooted over to nuzzle into her warm body. Wanda wraps her arms around you and holds you close.

Long gone were her jealous thoughts of Natasha being so close to you. When the love of her life is laying in her arms, tired and drunk off of alcohol, sleepiness, and love, Wanda had nothing else to worry about.

— navigation!

[gojo-mochi]

Softy I see you’re doing requests and I thought about it long and hard but the only thing I can think of would be sending Sabo a spicy text at a meeting >.> idk if you can do anything with that but the gloved man came to my mind

<33333

OMG I imagine it's a Meeting with Dragon too, a serious meeting at least. That requires all of his attention and focus…You can read this as a modern AU or in canon where they have cell(snail)phone that can text and send pictures etc

TW: Slight Voyuerism, Sexting

Usually at these sorts of meetings, no one is supposed to be on their phones, but Sabo tends to get bored when the older people go on long tangents during their spiel. So during the slow times of meetings, Sabo would secretly go on his phone under the desk. 

Pretending to keep all eyes on the speaker while actually just scrolling through Twitter or messaging you about how boring this meeting is. Dragon is the only one who notices when Sabo isn’t paying attention, but he doesn’t mind it since Sabo can pull his own weight when push comes to shove. 

You and Sabo were texting back and forth for a bit about mundane things when an idea popped into your head. You were getting bored waiting for him to come back home, so you decided to be a little cheeky today and send him a little bit of motivation~

You had to prepare your treat, so you left Sabo on hold for a bit, which he did not like. Sending you sad pictures of cats, increasing in volume with every minute you were gone. The latest sent picture is somehow sadder than the last cat. 

You come back to your phone notification going off, rolling your eyes at his antics. You text him to calm down and that you needed to go do something, while Sabo retorts back with that nothing is more important than alleviating his boredom. Then he quickly adds that unless you got hurt, someone broke in, or the house is on fire, then please feel free to ignore me until you are safe and healthy again. 

You smile at his message, sending him a quick “<3” and then posing on the bed to take a selfie. It took a couple of tries, but you finally got the right angle, lighting, and pose all in one. You quickly sent it over to Sabo before he sent another barrage of sad cat memes. 

Sabo, at the time of receiving that picture, had been called on by one of the other members at the meeting. They sought his opinion on the topics they had just discussed. Luckily for him, Sabo was good at lying and manipulating; he just sprouted out some fancy nonsense with enough charm, and mostly everyone would believe him. 

The other members all nod their heads and murmur agreements before moving on to the next topic. Sabo sighs under his breath and checks his phone, noticing that you sent a picture. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he opens it up without a second thought. Finding you posed on the bed, sitting on your knees with your legs spread, wearing only his dress shirt. Which was opened, revealing everything underneath in a tasteful manner, of course, a tease if you will. 

You were giving the camera a bashful look, making straight eye contact with the lens, so it would look like you were looking directly at Sabo when he opened up the picture. All your hard work paid off handsomely, as Sabo immediately felt his pants tighten. He curls his fist in as he breathes in heavily, trying not to show on his face that he has a hard on right now. 

Dragon silently quirks an eyebrow his way, but Sabo ignores him as he sees another text coming from you.  

“Miss you so much… could you please send me something back too, love?” 

The message was followed by a sad cat meme, almost causing Sabo to laugh out loud, but he quickly caught himself. Should he send something back? He can’t ask to excuse himself to go to the bathroom since this is somewhat of an appointment meeting. 

His heart started to pound a bit faster as an idea popped into his head: he could just take the pictures right now, under the desk, where no one would be the wiser.

So he does just that, slowly straightening out his back and flexing his fingers as he tries to focus on whoever is speaking. Sabo begins to slowly undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants, suppressing a groan as he shimmers down his pants to expose more of his boxer. He could feel the wet spot forming on his tip as he pulled down his boxer just slightly to expose some curly blonde pubes. 

He takes a few photos as best he can, just giving you a little tease of what's to come. He sends them over, and soon after, you reply with another set of your own photos. A shot of your chest, a shot of your dripping cunt, and one last shot of you playing with yourself. 

Sabo bit his lips hard upon seeing them, deciding to go even further as excitement and arousal started to heat up inside of him. He slips his gloved hands under his boxers and fully pulls out his throbbing cock. The cold office air hits his leaking tip, instantly causing Sabo to shiver. 

A member notices this and asks Sabo if he is alright. Sabo replies back smoothly. 

“Ah, don’t worry, it's just colder here than I expected.” He smiles at everyone and adjusts his coat. The members resume their chatter. 

Sabo softly sighs to himself and avoids looking at Dragon for the rest of the meeting. Still, he was determined to get one last set of pictures to you, if it was the last thing he did. He lets a few more minutes pass before going right back to his cock once more, wrapping his glove around his length. His hands were too shaky to get a stable photo, so instead he decided to take a video instead. 

The video starts off staring at the floor, slowly panning up Sabo’s leg until he finds the right angle to perfectly capture the full view of his cock. His other hand still on it, pristine leather now covered in precum, as he rubs his thumb on his tip. The precum almost seems to make the leather glove shine in the video, as he uses it as a makeshift lube. 

Stroking up and down on his length, his hands were trembling more and more with each stroke. Causing the video to shake heavily as he almost reached his climax, stopping himself by squeezing his shaft almost painfully tight so he doesn’t paint the underside of this table white. He cuts off the video there and sends it off, quietly shimmering his pants back up and zipping it close, not bothering to redo his belt though. 

The meeting ends soon after, and Sabo stays behind to wait until everyone else leaves first before he gets up. Dragon is the last one to get up before Sabo, as he gives Sabo a heavy look and shakes his head, murmuring to himself about how the youths of today are getting crazier with each generation. 

Sabo ignores all that, hurrying home to you, as he needs help cleaning off his gloves after today. And he knows what your tongue can do to help with that.

[chronosdawn]

Zhongli x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU Part 2

Link to Part 1

Word count: ~2.5k

He was waiting for you at the Stone Gate.

You hadn't known it was him at first, having taken to pointedly ignoring the sensations crawling up your arm from your soulmate mark once the phantom hand tugging you back to the harbor had turned clawed when you refused to listen to it. 

Of course you could hardly be blamed for overlooking a lone tall man standing just at the edge of the border, his back to you as he looked out over Mondstadt's grassy plains. There was nothing particularly remarkable about him at first glance, save perhaps for his height and fine clothes. The way he stood—perfectly still with his hands clasped behind his back—made him seem more like part of the landscape than a living thing. It was only when you got close to him, just barely out of arm's reach as you made to walk past and he turned to face you, amber eyes meeting yours, that you realized who he was.

Your legs refused to move as though they'd been turned to stone, torn between hurtling back the way you'd come—as though attempting to run from a god a second time might somehow prove more successful—and throwing yourself the last precious distance between you and the border, like the invisible line of it would somehow protect you from whatever was to come. 

Before you could commit to either however, your soulmate spoke.

"I apologize if the suddenness of our connection startled you, but it is very good to meet you at last." His voice was rich and smoother somehow than it had been during the rite, his expression one you could only describe as soft as he looked at you.

You'd thought gazing into the face of the dragon-qilin version of Rex Lapis was bad—somehow this was worse.

Words failed you as you stared at him. What were you even supposed to say? Your head felt like a hornets nest, thoughts flicking from excuses to questions to apologies until it turned into a garbled mess that made your temples throb. 

"I don't…" you stammered out before petering off. Your chest felt funny, like it was trying to cave in on itself.

Rex Lapis looked you over from head to toe and whatever he saw caused his lips to press together slightly. 

"You must be tired after the long journey here from the harbor. Come, you should rest for a moment." He moved to your side, a hand resting gently against the small of your back as he steered you away from the boundary of the nation of freedom and towards what appeared to be a modest tea stand nestled against the stone of one of the large cliffs making up the gate. You tried to protest, you really did, but your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, your skin prickling from how close you were to a literal god. Before you knew where you were, you'd been ushered to a table in the cornerーthe Archon only leaving your side to pull your chair out for you and then take the seat opposite. 

The elderly man running the stand came over and Rex Lapis ordered for the pair of you while you watched mutely, noting that he’d seated you in a corner, placing himself between you and any route of escape. Your hands shook faintly where they rested against the chipped wood of the table.

Silence descended as the old man left to brew your tea, interrupted only by the faint howl of the wind against the cliffs. You fought not to fidget in the face of such blatant awkwardness, turning your attention instead to the other patrons scattered nearby. The young woman closest to you was dressed in a signature Adventurer’s Guild uniform, likely on her way to a commission judging by the heavy backpack rammed with supplies at her feet. Sitting a little further away were a couple with obviously graying hair, twin soulmate marks visible on their joined hands as they quietly enjoyed the view. A lump formed in your throat at the sight.

“You hail from Snezhnaya.” Your gaze snapped back at the sound of Rex Lapis’s voice. It wasn’t a question, but the tone left the statement open-ended, an offering of idle conversation in place of the one you should be having but obviously weren’t ready for.

Nodding, you mustered your courage and said quietly, “I came to Liyue three months ago.”

“May I ask what brought you here? It’s rather a long way to travel.”

“My grandmother. She… She was from Liyue, she used to tell me stories about the harbor and the er— the Adepti growing up. After she passed, I decided I wanted to see it for myself.” You stammerred your way through your explanation, all too aware that it was only a half truth—the rest being the obviously Liyuean symbols swirled into the soulmate mark inked starkly upon your skin. 

“I am very sorry to hear of your loss," he said with a sincerity that put all the others you'd had this particular line of conversation with to shame. "Has it been all you expected, your time in Liyue?” 

"That's…" You trailed off, dropping your gaze to the table. How were you supposed to comment on a nation when the god who'd presided over it for thousands of years was sitting right across from you?

Obviously picking up on your inner turmoil, Rex Lapis spoke again, "There's no need to be anxious, I would not ask if I did not want to hear an honest answer. Though I have played a part in shaping Liyue into what it is today, it is but one of the seven nations and I would not expect it to appeal to all." 

Your drinks appeared just after he finished, providing a short but welcome reprieve as a warm cup was pressed into your hands. You inhaled deeply, the rich scent of expertly brewed green tea filling your nose as you did so. It was not until the old man had left that you gave your answer.

“It’s… prettier than I’d thought it would be. My grandmother always said the harbor was beautiful but it’s been another thing to see it in person.”

You glanced up quickly, meeting amber eyes through the faint trickle of steam rising from the cup in his hands. The Archon poised to take a sip, waiting for you to continue.

“Fitting in has been harder than I’d thought it would be. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, moving so far away from home, but I thought I’d done enough research that I’d be ready for it. I guess there’s nothing you can do to really prepare yourself for living somewhere completely new though.”

“Indeed, it’s true such adjustments can take time. Has it grown easier over the months you’ve been here at least?” 

Not really, you thought. You’d been hoping that something would click upon meeting your soulmate, that you’d feel like you’d finally found your place in the world. Instead you now felt like you wanted to be anywhere but the land of contracts and stone. 

It was that thought and the warmth seeping into your fingers that finally gave you the courage to stop dancing around the issue at hand. You shifted in your seat, straightening your back and lowering your shoulders so you looked at least a little more sure of yourself than you felt.

“Look, I think… I think there must have been some sort of mistake.”

Rex Lapis returned his cup to the table, the cor lapis gem on the back of his glove gleaming in the evening light.

“Mistake?”

“Yes, this—” you gestured between the two of you “—this can’t be right. I mean you’re a god and I’m just some human from a small village in Scheznaya—I don’t even have a vision. I don’t know that much about soulmate marks honestly,” you instinctively placed your hand over your left forearm, missing the way your conversation partner’s eyes zeroed in on the gesture, “but this has to be a false alarm or something.”

Rex Lapis’s expression remained neutral as he let out a deep exhale—it wasn’t quite a sigh but reminded you of the controlled breath someone might take before they had to explain something to a child. 

“Over the many years I have watched over Liyue, I have been witness to numerous soulmate connections. While the reason behind a pairing is not always immediately obvious, not once have I observed a soulmark responding to anyone but the person’s intended. It’s true that differences in personal status between soulmates can act as a source of friction, though that is usually between families rather than the individuals themselves, something that will not prove to be an issue in our case.” He paused to take a sip of his tea, his movements measured and steady, a stark contrast to your white-knuckled grip on your own cup.

You were painfully aware of the sun slipping lower in the sky, the cliffs slowly being stained amber in the fading late. You’d hoped to be safely in Mondstadt before nightfall.

“And though it is not common knowledge,” Rex Lapis continued, returning his cup to the table, “ours is not the first case of an archon having a human for a soulmate.” Though the words were perhaps meant to serve as some sort of reassurance, his voice held a somewhat wistful tone, as though lost in a memory from long ago..

“I just—” you sucked in a breath, the words ‘never wanted something like this’ caught in the back of your throat. It was true, of course, you didn’t want the pressure of being soulmates with Liyue’s exalted archon; of being the supposed other half of a being you likely would never be able to truly understand, let alone measure up to. It felt unfair, however, to throw that in his face. There were tales up north of various ways the story could play out when one soulmate rejected the other, none of which ended well. 

And it wasn’t as though he’d actually done anything to deserve your rejection either—you wanted to cast your connection aside because of what he was rather than anything he’d actually done. You weren’t sure you were really capable of that kind of cruelty, no matter how badly you might wish to vanish with the setting sun. 

“This wasn’t what I expected,” you said finally, after a long period of uncomfortable quiet.

“And that is not something anyone would fault you for.” If Rex Lapis was upset by your lack of enthusiasm for the bond that existed between you, he made no show of it. “I doubt many who were not intimately familiar with the gods would dare to even dream of the possibility. I hope however,” he continued, his gaze falling to the mark hidden away underneath your sleeve, “that with time it will become easier to accept.”

You swallowed uncomfortably. It wasn’t the words themselves that made something in your guts twist—if anything you should probably be grateful that a deity referred to in some stories as the Warrior God was granting you so much grace—but there was a certainty in his voice as he said them that didn’t sit well with you. 

Rex Lapis lifted his eyes from where your arms rested on the table, looking up at the slowly darkening sky. Taking a final sip of his tea he said, “It’s rather late for the return journey to the harbor, but there is an inn on the way that I believe we should be able to reach before nightfall.”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean we?” you asked in a small voice, casting a furtive glance towards the path to Mondstadt.

“Ah.” For the first time since you’d met the Archon, the slightest crack appeared in his composure, a minute shift in expression that you’d almost call bashful. The look was gone as quickly as it had appeared and you found yourself meeting the deep amber of his eyes.  “Please forgive my forwardness but I’m afraid it would be remiss of me to allow you to be exposed to the dangers that come with traveling alone at night, especially with… so few preparations.” A polite way of remarking on the fact you’d basically legged it with no supplies to your name.

“That’s…” You trail off, no good defense coming to mind as to why you should continue your journey alone with only the clothes on your back and scarcely a pocketful of mora. 

As if sensing your desperate fumble for an excuse to not go with him, he continued, “If your business in Mondstadt is urgent then I will escort you come morning, once you have had adequate rest. Otherwise, perhaps it may be best to return after you’ve had a chance to recover from the shock of recent events. It has been some time since I last had reason to visit but I would be more than happy to share the sights with you after ensuring matters will run smoothly in Liyue for the course of my absence.”

“I—” The sun was only half visible at the horizon now and as it sank further you felt your hopes of slipping away go with it. “I barely have any mora on me, I’m not sure I can afford a night at an inn.”

“That will not be an issue, I am more than willing and able to cover any of your expenses. Speaking of which,” Rex Lapis placed a large pile of mora on the table and you felt your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull at the amount—it had to be many, many times however much your tea had actually cost. You were suddenly struck with the utter stupidity of trying to use a lack of mora as an excuse to the very being who was responsible for creating it. That and the fact you were completely out of ideas on how to get out of this situation short of simply making a run for it—a tactic which had failed to provide much success thus far.

“If you are feeling up to it, we should begin our journey to the inn now before it gets much darker.” He stood and rounded the table, extending a gloved hand out to you. 

You were backed into a corner in every way that mattered, the stone of the cliffs at your back as unyielding as you suspected the god of this land was. With nowhere else left to go, you place your hand in his, the leather of his gloves cool against your skin as his fingers curl around your own. You could only hope you wouldn’t regret not trying to run when you had the chance.

Taglist: @tanspostsblog, @esthelily, @alice4wonderland2812, @kalinka9999999999, @lacunaanonymoused

A/N: I have no excuses for how long this took me but here we finally are OTL. I make no promises as to whether or not there will be a part 3 but I am trying to get into the habit of writing more regularly again so I hope to at least start posting more stuff on this blog.

[seungkw1]

halloween night — ksy

⛧ pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader ⛧ theme: strangers to lovers, nonidol!au ⛧ word count: ~2.5k ⛧ warnings: smut, swearing, praise kink, oral (m. & f. receiving), softdom!hoshi, petnames (f. receiving - baby, pretty girl, etc.), unprotected penetration (stay safe kids), tiny bit of fluff at the end

your halloween night is going pretty lousy — that is, until you meet a handsome, tiger-print-wearing stranger at a party

♡ moodboard by @myhimbomingi ♡

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“You look fine. Stop worrying, you’re gonna have a good time tonight!”

You stop fiddling with your skirt and look up at your best friend with a sigh. ”I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this stupid thing.”

Halloween is, in your humble opinion, the greatest holiday ever invented. You always love putting together your costume, something unique and creative each year – which is why you feel like a fucking idiot standing here dressed in a cliché sexy nurse costume. But, you needed to get your shitty ex off your mind – it had been two weeks since you found out he was cheating on you – and what better distraction than alcohol. Hell, you might even find someone to make out with if you drink enough. Not your usual M.O., but fuck it.

Now that you’re here though, you’re starting to have second thoughts. Your best friend Mina is bubbly and sociable, so she thrives naturally in a party environment – you, not so much. To make matters worse she’s the only person you’ll know here, so you’re now realizing how awkward this whole thing is going to be. Wishing now that you had worn something more comfortable, you slap on a fake smile as you step inside. Here goes nothing, I guess.

—

Mina spent about 15 minutes introducing you to everybody as you did your best to engage in polite small talk, but she eventually got absorbed in chatting with some old friends while you inadvertently joined a very boring conversation with some cryptocurrency bros where some guy named Chad or something was going on about bitcoin. You pretended to be interested in whatever Brad was saying, but you kept zoning out. Stifling a sigh, you went to make your escape. 

“I’m gonna use the restroom, I'll be right…”

Nobody even looked at you. Brent had moved on talking about stocks or some shit. You rolled your eyes as you walked away. Assholes.

The other room was too crowded for your liking, and so was the kitchen. Spotting the back door, you quickly made your way outside before anyone else could talk to you. 

—

The cool October breeze hits you as you practically burst through the door and out onto the patio. You know you’ll probably get chilled before too long, especially in this dumb miniskirt, but the crisp air feels delightful. The relative quietness is a relief too. Taking a few moments to breathe, you start to relax, but soon enough your mind drifts back to your ex against your will. It’s not like you miss him – you’re definitely over that jerk – but you’re still extremely pissed off about the whole thing. You feel tears starting to form as the anger wells up inside you – you hate that you cry when you get mad, which only makes you even more upset. 

“God fucking dammit,” you mutter under your breath as you go to wipe your tears away before you start full-on crying. You know bottling up your emotions isn’t ideal, but neither is having a breakdown at some stranger’s house.

You can have your breakdown later, you tell yourself firmly. Just not right now. Don’t make a fool of yourself, just hold on out for a couple more hours and then-

“Are you okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice coming from behind you. Quickly turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with a ridiculously handsome stranger. The man is so striking it takes you a few seconds to process the horribly tacky, bright orange tiger-print shirt he’s wearing.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” you say as you collect yourself.

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he says, his sentence trailing off.

You both stand there for a moment in silence. You find yourself trying not to blush at how good-looking he is, but you notice him noticing your low-cut top but trying to act like he didn’t notice it. Yeah, that is not helping…

The man clears his throat. “You just seemed like you were crying or something and uh… sorry, I guess that’s not really any of my business…” he apologizes, turning red. “Sorry,” he repeats, “I’ll leave you be…”

“No no it’s okay!!” you blurt out, perhaps a bit too fast. “I mean, you can stay, I don't mind.”

“Are you sure? If you want to be alon-”

“No, I don’t,” you interrupt before he goes to turn away again. “I mean, I did originally, but uh…”

What are you doing?? You literally don’t even know this man.

You ignore the voice inside your head. Fuck it, didn’t I say I wanted to find a hot stranger to make out with tonight? Here’s one right in front of me.

You introduce yourself and stick out your hand. His face turns into a soft smile as he takes your hand in his – he shakes it firmly, and you try not to think about how strong he feels. He locks eyes with you and holds on to your hand for a few moments too long. Your heart seems to skip a beat. 

“Soonyoung,” he replies. Letting out an even bigger grin, he finally lets go of your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

—

You don’t even know how long you two have been sitting on the patio couch talking. All you know is that not only is Soonyoung incredibly handsome, he’s also funny, charming, and easy to talk to – and, he’s clearly very attracted to you. Usually it takes a number of drinks before you get flirty, but the tension between you two is too strong to resist. It’s taking all of your willpower not to drop everything and kiss him – and the way he keeps stealing quick glances of your lips tells you the feeling is reciprocated. 

Despite how flustered you are, it is pretty chilly out, and eventually you start to shiver. Soonyoung notices and gives you a concerned look.

“Oh shit, we should probably get you inside.”

You glance back toward the chatter of the house party regretfully, not wanting to go back in and be amongst everybody else once again. But you are getting cold.

You look back to Soonyoung and you both sit there in silence for a few seconds. A sly smile creeps back onto his face, and he hesitates for a moment before suggesting, “Or… we could get out of here.”

You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

And so you find yourself on Soonyoung’s couch, straddling his lap, making out with him – the cheesy horror movie you had put on in the background long forgotten. Time seems to be at a standstill as you press your lips into his – softly at first, but more intensely with each kiss. His muscular arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body even closer to his, and a small moan escapes you as he pushes his hips into your core. 

Soonyoung stops kissing you momentarily so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

His low and raspy voice sends a jolt through your stomach. Your skirt has risen up over your hips, leaving your underwear as the only barrier between your pussy and the growing bulge in his jeans – you push yourself into him even further and this time he lets out a moan as you feel his cock twitch against your aching cunt.

Grabbing onto your waist he pushes you over onto the couch and rolls over on top of you. He kisses you again, his hand cradling your face, his body weight pressing down on you as you feel the blood rushing through your veins. He kisses you for a few moments more before he jumps up, pulling you along as he leads you into his bedroom. 

He stops right before the bed and pauses to look at you, his hand delicately tracing your neckline. “You know, I really like this costume, but I think I’d like it more off of you.”

You let out a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. You begin to unbutton his shirt as you reply, “Well I don’t really like it at all, so you can definitely help me get rid of it.”

He grins back at you. “You look incredible, but I will happily oblige.”

Grabbing the hem of your top, Soonyoung pulls it up over your head and tosses it behind him. He pulls his shirt off too, disregarding the rest of the buttons, and you have to keep your jaw from hitting the floor – to say he was toned would’ve been an understatement. 

He grabs you by the arms to pull you in for another kiss, and you place your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. You slowly run one hand down the defined curvatures of his abs until you reach the waist of his pants. Your lips still pressed against his, you begin to undo his belt and unbutton his pants.

Getting down as you undo the zipper, you pull down the band of his underwear and his cock springs free. You run your tongue up his length, your mouth stopping to take just the tip in between your lips as you taste his juices before taking him in your mouth. Soonyoung lets out a groan, and you begin to slide his cock down your throat – slowly at first, but as you begin to pick up the pace he places his hand on the back of your head, making sure you take his entire length with each motion.

“Look at me,” he commands.

You look up at him, his cock halfway in your mouth still, your lips red and your eyes teary from choking on him.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice gruff and low.

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before he pulls your head back up, his cock glistening with your spit. 

“Stand up for me.”

You quickly stand up – it’s impossible to ignore how wet you are at this point.

Soonyoung takes you by the hips and gently pushes you down onto the bed. “Get comfy baby.”

You rest your head against the pillows as he situates himself between your legs. He lifts your skirt up just enough to reveal your visibly soaked underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re already this wet for me huh?” he says he starts kissing your inner thighs, close enough to your entrance to make your clit throb but just far away enough to drive you crazy.

He teases you with one finger tracing over your clothed cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. Not giving what you want just yet, he reaches his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra, taking it off of you. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he says as he begins to kiss your breasts. You let out a small whimper as his hand makes its way back down to your clit, his thumb circling over the fabric gently.

Finally, he reaches his hands under your skirt and slides your panties off, his face resuming its position right in front of your cunt. You let out a hiss as his tongue makes a stripe over your folds, slowly taking in your wetness – you cry out suddenly as he begins to suck on your clit. 

Soonyoung goes down on you for what feels like an eternity, only stopping here and there to shower you in admiration.

“You taste so good, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Pussy so pretty for me.”

Just as you feel the heat welling up inside your body, he slides his fingers inside of you. The vibrations of his mouth moaning on your clit combined with the pressure against your g-spot nearly sends you over the edge.

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum…” you cry.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Your orgasm rushes over you as you grab him by the hair, cumming hard on his mouth. Out of breath and seeing stars, you start to come down and your body relaxes into the bed – you run your hand through his hair as he delicately kisses your soaked pussy, his mouth and chin covered in your juices.

Soonyoung comes up to give you a few soft kisses on the lips. Wrapping your arms around his back, you pull his warm body into yours. His erection presses up against your still-throbbing core – you try to position your entrance right on top of his cock but he teasingly pulls away and starts kissing your neck instead. 

“Please Soonyoung,” you beg.

“Please what baby? I wanna hear you say it.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you on the neck once more before slipping his cock inside you, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

“Mmm I made you so wet baby, you’re so perfect for me.”

He slowly starts sliding his length in and out of you, but before long you find yourself trying to ride his cock, trying to make him go faster – which only makes him slow down even more. He smirks, locking eyes with you – undeniably addicted to how much you need him.

“Such a little slut, you want me to fuck you harder?”

You nod, looking up at him – desperation in your eyes.

“Use your words baby.”

“Harder,” you plead.

“That’s my good girl.”

Soonyoung thrusts into you, picking up the pace this time, until he’s fucking you senseless. Your cries fill the room from the overwhelming pleasure, and much to his enjoyment you start to whimper out his name. 

“That’s right – say my name babygirl.”

You repeat his name as every inch of him continues to pulse into you, stronger with each stroke. 

“You’re taking me so well. My cock so good to you baby?”

You cry out something, presumably some form of yes, but you don’t even know at this point. You feel yourself start to climax once more. 

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum again.”

“Cum with me, pretty girl.”

Electricity rushes over your entire body as your walls tighten around him, and you feel his cock pulsating as his cum fills you up inside. You both lay there for a few moments, his strong arms wrapping around you as you breathe heavily together. He slowly removes himself from you and rolls over to pull you into an embrace – him as the big spoon. You giggle as he holds you tightly and gives you little kisses on your cheek. 

“You know,” you admit, “I didn’t even want to go to that stupid party.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Well, I’m sure glad you did.”

“I am too,” you say as you begin to yawn. You are completely worn out in the best way possible.

He nuzzles into your neck, clearly also getting sleepy. He pauses a moment before he asks.

“Stay here with me?”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay,” you reply softly. 

You drift off to sleep in Soonyoung’s arms – blissful and content.

[end]

you can also find me on ao3 ♡

[steddietogo]

Steddie grammys au part 2

Part 1

------

Steve is texting Eddie Munson via the private message function on instagram. Because that's just the kinda shit that happens to him now. One day he's at the Grammys doing his job and the next, the lead guitarist/lyricist of a famous rock band is following his instagram account (Dustin and Robin had lost their collective minds) which is full of dorky pictures of him with a group of high schoolers, his cat and Robin. And that one picture of Robin and him at pride, posing with a lesbian and pansexual pride flag respectively.

His follower count has also gone up by couple extra thousands and there are a couple DMs from people he's never heard of, saying some unsavoury things about him. It's all very intense and dramatic. Needless to say, his account is private now.

The thing is, Steve has been flirted with during interviews before, he's a good looking guy and he knows it. It's just never happened with an international rockstar before—then immediately went viral for the entire world to see.

Didn't peg you as a cat person Stevie

Then there is the other thing. Eddie Munson flirting with him in his DMs. Which kinda sorta makes him forget how to be a person. Steve Harrington is nothing if not a people person, always knows the right thing to say. But with Eddie he barely just manages, no sign of the alleged lover boy he had been in his high school years. Eighteen year old Steve would cry if he could see the bland ass conversation he's having about his cat of all things.

I'm not

He just barged into my house one day and refused to leave

Eddie is hot, and rich and famous. Did he mention hot, because he is. Painfully so. Steve will never forget his all black ensemble at the Grammys where he had been standing a foot away from Steve in his bejewelled suit jacket with nothing underneath it.

Point is, Eddie is intimidating. He seems so far away with his rockstar status and the hoards of fans worshipping him like he's their god. What could Eddie Munson possibly want from Steve Harrington?

Would you like to get dinner sometime?

Eddie's latest text is staring up at him like its going to jump out of his phone and attack him. Its too late to ditch and run, Eddie knows Steve has seen it so he needs to come up with a response. Soon. So Steve does the only reasonable thing and barges into Robin's room at ass o'clock in the morning.

"Say yes Dingus!" Robin says, after kicking him in the shin for waking her up.

"But—" she silences him with another well placed kick.

"Listen, no one who just wants to bang you asks you about the shitty retail job you had in high school, Steven. Even if he only wants to sleep with you, you're gonna get a fun night out of it and like bragging rights or something," He supposes she’s right. Eddie did seem very interested in Steve’s personal life. He really did hope it is a date though. If only he has the balls to actually ask him.

"I'd be so jealous of you right now if I liked men, so get out of your head and go have some fun. Now get the fuck out and let me sleep,"

------

Eddie picks an upscale rooftop bar with private seating and a breathtaking view. He's there sitting at the booth half an hour before their scheduled meet up time out of nerves.

Eddie sometimes hates that his public image takes precedence when people meet him. The truth is that he is a little bit of a loner. Never got the point of physical intimacy without a connection no matter how much people tend to think he's the type of person to have a different person warming his bed each night.

It makes dating so hard when the perception of Eddie the rockstar doesn't line up with who Eddie the person really is. Eddie rarely even takes the first step anymore. It took the combined ragging of his entire band for him to even gather the courage to message Steve.

"Hey," a voice greets him from behind.

Steve is here. And Steve is an enigma. An ex high school jock who used to babysit a bunch of middle schoolers. He's so full of delicious contradictions and dry humor and it's impossible not to like him the more he learns about him.

But there’s still the question of what Steve expects of him that Eddie dreads a little. Above all, Eddie just wants Steve to like Eddie the person so badly.

------

“A fire extinguisher,” Eddie’s eyebrows are somewhere up in his bangs.

“Yep,”

“Against an armed robber,”

“I swear I had grey hairs at seventeen because of those kids,” Steve knows how sappy and fond his voice sounds when he talks about the kids. It’s never been something he could help.

The night’s been going a lot better that Steve had expected. Eddie is funny, and dramatic and it’s hard not to feel giddy from the attention he utterly devotes to Steve. They have a nice dinner, and exchange stores over drinks and it’s feels like a real date. Steve can practically hear Robin in his head telling him to stop being such a dingus and overthinking everything.

They go quite for a second, Eddie suspiciously focused on his drink when Steve feels his boot nudge against his shoe. Steve nudges back and soon instigates a game of footsie neither of them acknowledge above the table. It ends with Eddie’s foot trapped between Steve’s ankles and a faint rise of colour in his cheeks as he takes a comically large gulp from his drink. It’s just adorable.

"Can I kiss you?" The words are out of Steve’s mouth before he even realises it. Before he could beat himself up about it, Eddie turns a slightly worrying shade of crimson but he's nodding and thats all Steve needs before he is leaning over the table.

It's nice, it's really fucking sweet and not at all how he had expected Eddie to kiss, but Steve is quickly learning that nothing about Eddie is what it seems like. The kiss is all soft presses of their lips, wet, languid slides of tongue at the seams of his mouth. Steve feels a little dizzy when he pulls away and drops back into his seat, happy grins mirrored in both their faces.

———

Its a couple months after that when Eddie starts trending again. He posts a picture taken by Gareth, post show as he lays on top of Steve on the couch. Steve has his arms around him, lips pressed to his gross, sweaty hair.

Caption says: Happy birthday to my sweetheart <3

———

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Chapter 5 - Ice Princess | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: Moving on to the North, before the match with Cregan and Sara, everything comes to a head | Word Count: 7.2k~ | Warnings under the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* jealous!aemond, swearing, degradation, heaps of sexual tension, one room in the hotel trope, aemond being a sexual menace, a lot of dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, creampie, mild angst

A/N: *me barking writing all the warnings* I ain't got nothing else to say I-

Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚

“What the fuck was that?!” El shouts over the video call, making you cradle your face in your hands. 

She’s showing you her front camera, tapping on the TV in front of her as she rewinds the footage of your routine at Casterly Rock. She must have replayed that specific part about ten times now.

She taps the screen harshly, “Look at that! You’re fucking blushing, you whore!”

“El, please” you reply, exasperated.

“Is that a fucking bruise on your leg”

"El!" You shout over the phone, making her press her lips together in a mischievous grin.

"Did you get a bit too cozy?" She teases,

"Fuck off"

"You both look completely different. Also that triple spin, that was fucking perfect"

"Thank you" you say flatly, rolling your eyes, remembering doing it in the routine.

You don't remember the time between the dressing room and getting on the ice. Just the steady hum of the crowd's applause as the announcer welcomed the representatives of the Crownlands.

"Performing second is Aemond Targaryen with his not-so-new skating partner, who proved herself significantly in the deciding match for the Championship tour"

"They were both very icy in that performance. Let's see if anything has improved"

You run over all the jumps and spins, in case your mind is so preoccupied that you've somehow forgotten. Smoothing down your hair and your skirt, desperately trying to hide any proof of his fingerprints, you take your spot in the middle of the ice.

For this routine, it begins with Aemond facing you, and when he pauses to a halt before you, you meet his gaze briefly, feeling the warmth creeping up to your cheeks.

Before he left the dressing room, he looked nervous. But that facade is gone. He looks deadly serious, and you hate to admit that the look he's giving you, performance or not, is so piercing and purposeful that it's almost exciting. Arousing? No, focus.

At the other match, his touch had been calculated, firm and almost rigid. His movements were largely the same, as you had pointed out only the day before. But now, his touch is so whisper soft it's almost undetectable. His fingers dance across your bare skin, a path of goosebumps left in their wake. Except this time, his eyes barely ever leave yours, fully aware of the effect of his touch and a ghost of a smile lob-sided on his face.

Every single touch of his hands on your waist to lift you, every hold to lunge into a jump together and every shared gaze never fails to have your stomach roll pleasantly inside you, settling between your thighs where Aemond had touched you not a moment before.

You come together, skating backwards for the triple spin. His hands brace your waist, and you swallow anxiously.

"Remember to tuck your arms in" he whispers, you nod, running over what you need to do, "you've got this"

"I'm seeing a stark difference in attitude in this performance. Perhaps our icy couple are starting to warm up"

Taking a steadying breath, Aemond does as he needs and flings you in the air, ready to catch you once you've done one, two, three spins, before taking your hand once you land.

Right leg, push…

You can't help but smile when you land it. That's the best feeling in the world, when the crowd applauds.

"She's done it! Another graceful landing!"

You release the breath you'd been tightly holding, gliding through the rest of the routine with Aemond to the view of the stands, some of them stood and some seated in applause.

It's only when you are stopped, with Aemond's arms around your middle and feeling his hurried breath against your back, that you can finally form a thought. Your heart beats furiously in your chest, lungs dry.

"Well done" he breathes, hot against the shell of your ear. The praise goes straight to your core.

"Oop, I saw that look. Perhaps the Ice Prince has an Ice Princess in his sights"

"Oh come on, look at the way he's looking at you!" El beams over the video call, tearing you from your thoughts, "I swear to all the gods, if y'all don't smash-"

"Can I have one conversation with you that isn't about fucking please?"

El pulls a face, "What can I say. Hoes United. Are you kidding me? Ice Princess? He better be calling you princess between the sheet-"

"Goodbye, El"

You hang up, heaving a large sigh, staring forwards at the bed with your packed duffle bag, ready to depart once again in the car with Arryk. 

It was clear as day, the difference between you and Aemond. The attitude.

The commentators dubbed you his 'Ice Princess', a nickname which you hate immensely. Several reporters had flocked to the hotel you were both staying in, all hanging around Arryk's car waiting for a chance to speak to the famed 'couple'.

The match was a success at least, no doubt because of the 'warming up' to one another, as the commentators graciously put it. You received good scores, marginally better technically than Johanna and Jason but ultimately winning most on performance, the former of which wiggled her eyebrow at you as she hugged you in congratulations during scoring.

She didn't dare say anything. The cameras would pick it up, no doubt.

A seasoned pro in that respect.

As per usual, you and Aemond were hauled into the back of Arryk's car provided by Hightower Management, sat together on opposite ends. 

Also as usual, Aemond had his airpods shoved inside his ears, turned away towards the window. Usually, you'd be able to hear the music blasting through his earphones. But you couldn't hear a thing. 

Perhaps he just wanted to be left alone.

His hands were clasped tight in his lap, his left leg bouncing. And you had to turn away towards your own window to stop staring at him in his sweatpants, feeling your face and neck get hot just thinking about what happened between you two.

The journey to Winterfell was several hours. You couldn't possibly be faster getting out the car and grabbing your stuff, walking straight past Aemond to go into the foyer of 'The Lone Wolf', a humble yet large hotel in the heart of Winterfell. Owned by none other than the Stark Family, so the idea of seeing Cregan before the match sent anxious flutters in your stomach.

"Good morning, Miss" the receptionist says with a polite customer service brimmed smile.

"Hello, uh, should be some rooms booked under Hightower?"

She nods, her fingernails clicking against the keyboard, "Just let me check for you…"

You ignore the white-haired male in your periphery, leaning against the desk by one of his forearms, one airpod now safely tucked away. When you spare a brief glance, he's not looking at you, but at the woman as she types quickly, flexing his fingers on the desk. You swallow thick at the closeness, sidestepping an inch.

The lady pulls a face.

"I'm afraid there seems to have been an administrative issue with the booking…"

Your skin starts to erupt in worry, "what issue?.."

The receptionist meets your eyes, her lips drawn flat in apology, "There is only one room on the Hightower booking…"

You go cold all over, staring back for a long moment without saying anything.

"A twin?" you ask,

She shakes her head, "a double.."

Your hand braces your forehead, leaning against the desk, "Fuck"

An awkward silence passes before you ask, "there aren't any other rooms?"

"I'm afraid not. We're full because of the skating match in a few days"

Aemond bites the inside of his cheek, his face stoic, "Is there a sofa? In the room?"

She reluctantly nods, "Yes but only a 2 seater-"

"That's fine" Aemond says immediately, holding his hand out and clapping the keycard in his grasp. He sighs and turns to you, smirking slightly at the horrified look on your face, "Let's go then, business partner"

You feel like you stand stock still, frozen into place, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of sharing such intimate space with Aemond.

I've got to be the most fucking unlucky person in Westeros.

By the time you catch your breath, having checked to see if Arryk had already left (which unfortunately he had), you're walking hurriedly to the room, standing before the numbered door for a moment as if to psych yourself up for the next day and a bit that will be inevitably be spent in extremely close proximity with Aemond.

The hotel room is luckily wide, with an en-suite situated in the corner as well as a wide curved window that looks out over the roof of another building. Aemond shucks his bag onto the sofa, his well muscled back moves as he unzips it and pulls his belongings out.

He barely moves his head, "You gonna unpack or just stand there?"

Hot embarrassment combined with subtle anger nips at your insides. You pull your lips into a flat line to hold you back from retorting and huff your bag onto the bed, pulling off your jacket. 

Aemond won't stop you from getting comfortable.

"Will you fit on that 2-seater?"

Aemond shrugs, still busied with unpacking, "I've slept on worse"

Usually, unpacking is a time for relaxation, making a home of the hotel room. But here, with Aemond, it feels like you're on guard the entire time, methodically grabbing the more intimate items of clothing and putting them away as quickly as you can.

Suddenly, the shorts you're wearing feels just a bit too revealing, the hem lapping at your thighs barely. Every now and then, you feel his gaze on them, setting every hair on edge. But when you look back at him, he just does that little lob-sided smug smile, pretending to be busy with something else.

You push your palms over the skirt of your dress anxiously, feeling a nervous sweat coat them "Okay well…" you murmur awkwardly, "I'm gonna…to go downstairs for a bit"

You're barely turned, hand on the door when Aemond chuckles, low, in his chest, "Desperate to get away from me, hm?"

You freeze, not daring to turn back. All you can hear is the soft press of his trainers on the carpet as he turns away, and you just know he's looking at you. 

The inside of your mouth is so dry.

"I know what you're thinking, I can see it on your face" he muses quietly, his voice edging closer to your back as you're frozen on the spot, "I know you've been thinking about what we did, in the dressing room"

No I haven't.

Yes I have.

Fuck.

As much as the thoughts whizz around your head, they don't make the connection to your mouth. You can feel how close Aemond must be to your back, and your fingers tighten over the handle of the door.

"You have, haven't you?" He grins darkly, his voice an octave lower, quieter, more calculated, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it"

Your breath is stuck in your ribs, arousal pooling slowly in your belly, like the calm tide of the ocean sweeping in to wet the sand. 

You feel his breath against your neck and ear, blowing the hair at the side of your face. His mere presence behind you. 

"See you tonight"

Almost as soon as he says it, you're out the door, pushing it shut behind you forcefully. Shutting out the feeling that you desperately want to disappear. The mere memory of his hands on your bare thighs that day sets urgency in your core, hands clenched tight at your sides. 

But more than anything, the way he kissed you, was the feeling you remembered the most. You recall moments after he'd rushed out, touching your kiss-swollen lips, willing the feeling of them back, realising just what line had been crossed.

Aemond Targaryen was an infuriatingly good kisser. Just like the way he moves on the ice, he's smooth and deliberate, taking his time. And it translated in the passion of that moment, the way his hand had grasped the back of your neck, and the other had spread your legs to accommodate him standing between them…

…How his hardness had pressed against your clothed core.

Aemond had been aroused.

Everything you thought about him, about how he felt about you, could very well be misplaced. 

You don't know how to feel about that.

It goes against everything you thought. Everything you believed.

And he still hasn't apologised. He'd said pretty words, all but those two you really needed.

Nothing would happen until he did. You'd make sure of that.

Torture him right back. It's the least he deserves.

Prick.

The hotel bar is better than anticipated, with several tables and chairs, even stools that line the front of the large oak counter on one side of the room. You don't usually partake in drinking, or at least much. But every now and then you feel you deserve it.

And right now for example, it's taking the edge off.

The large glass windows show you just how dark outside it already is, with the streetlights beaming through the single glazing. The North is different, obviously, but you didn't quite consider the weather.

Your muscles ache from doing your cardio, choosing to train on the ice tomorrow instead, the day before the match with Cregan and Sara. The hotel gym was nice, and each time you went into the hotel room to change, you worried about running into Aemond.

But luckily he was nowhere to be found.

Where he'd gone?

Not your problem, you surmise.

You were dressed once again in black, but nowhere near as flashy as the after-party from weeks before, but still a nice enough dress that it completely didn't work with the use of a bra. Hightower Management had organised a small get-together of the skaters currently in the North, as a way of showing support, despite all of you being quite literally competitors.

This includes the Singles skaters.

With that, they insisted you and Aemond look presentable.

You were there early, as a means of…avoiding Aemond in the hotel room. With so far, success.

A few figures begin to leak into the bar area, a few you don't recognise, but then a sea of silver-hair you actually would like to see.

Baela and Rhaena, clad in equally stunning blue dresses, bound up to you with gleaming teethy smiles. You stand excitedly meeting them in the middle, a shared female squeal of excitement is the only sound emitted.

"There she is!" Baela shouts, and both the twins envelop you in an equally tight hug.

"Jesus, guys there's only one of me, bit looser please" you joke, pretending to be out of breath.

They pull back, their silver curls sitting loose with silver accessories, "Our Ice Princess!" Rhaena jabs with a mischievous smile.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Don't you fucking start, I've had enough of that"

Baela laughs, "had enough of your Ice Prince as well?" 

You give her a warning look and the twins hold back their smile, dropping the subject as per your glare. Knowing how you can get.

"How is Pairs?" Rhaena asks,

You sigh, "Different" is all you respond, "How's Singles? Rhaenys giving you a hard time?"

They both groan comically at the same time, "is she? When is she not giving us a hard time? She's our grandmother"

You laugh, sipping your drink, "Ah yeah, forgive me, I do forget sometimes she's a gilf"

"She's not a gilf!" Baela retorts, making you snort a laugh. Almost dropping the glass in your hand.

"Who's not a gilf?" 

You all turn and beam, "Jace! When did you get here!" Baela throws herself at him, as does Rhaena as soon as her sister lets go. Sometimes you forget they're cousins, they look so different.

"Hi Jace" you smile, "How have you been?" You ask giving him a hug, which he returns with one hand politely on your back.

"Alright, competitions kicking my ass though"

"Oh dear" you pout, faking a sad face and patting his shoulder, "You'll get over it"

"Thanks, you're so kind" Jace grins.

Over his shoulder you spot him, lurking in a corner with a phone pressed to his ear. 

Aemond.

He's dressed all in black again, hair in a loose bun, with a button down and dress pants, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a chain that glints beneath the collar. You swallow at his expression.

He doesn't look pleased in the slightest.

But annoyingly, he does look good.

His eye flits from you and Jace, before realising that you're watching him, to which his attention falls entirely to you. You wonder if he's actually on the phone since he doesn't say anything.

"There she is. The Ice Princess" Cregan Stark obstructs your view for a moment and you smile politely.

"Hi, Cregan-umf"

Your outstretched hand in greeting is completely ignored as Cregan pulls you into a hug, his massive form completely swallowing yours.

"You're in the North, we hug here" he laughs, the vibrations rumbling through your chest, his hand politely in the middle of your back to gently squeeze the hug for longer than you'd think.

Your eyes immediately go to Aemond, over his shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch. But he's hung up his phone, slapping it on his thigh to shove into his pocket. You can't pin down what that look is, but the muscle in his jaw tenses when he looks at Cregan, softening into a smirk when the Northerner pulls away.

Your throat feels tight.

"I know you've been thinking about what we did, in the dressing room"

He doesn't look away, eyes trained on your body. Unabashedly raking over it.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it"

"Drinks!" Baela announces, dragging you luckily to the bar, breaking your staring competition with Aemond.

As the night progresses, you get to know Cregan and Sara. They couldn't be more different from one another, despite being half siblings. Sara has a fire in her belly, and a competitive eye, whereas Cregan is like a big, muscly Northern golden retriever. He looks like the kind of guy who lifts at the gym in one breath and in another would be having afternoon tea with his grandmother.

The duality takes you off guard multiple times during the night.

Jace and Cregan at least seem very close, having trained together multiple times. They're like long lost brothers, the way Cregan has him in a soft headlock as they wobble back to the bar, is proof enough.

Sara leans close to you, "Is he always like that?"

"Who?" You ask, sipping the drink you've been nursing for hours. Not wanting to get drunk in the slightest.

She nods to the corner, "Your Ice Prince. Aptly named by the way he stares at you"

You follow her line of sight, your core instantly clenching at the sight of him. Perhaps you hadn't really realised it before but several of his top buttons are undone, showing more of his skin at a formal event than he had previously.

You swallow, "Oh, uh, yeah he is. Ignore him"

Sara smirks, "Girl, he wants to fuck you. Can you not see that?"

You turn urgently to her, cheeks ablaze, "That's not true"

Sara hums smugly, "Denial is a river in Egypt. He looked like he wanted to tear Jace's head off when you hugged him"

"Jace is just a friend"

"Oh good, so he's available?" Sara raises her eyebrows.

Now it's your turn to smirk, "Are you after him?"

She shrugs, "he's not bad looking. Guy like him might look harmless but I bet he's freaky between the sheets. With a massive c-"

"Sara!" Cregan interrupts, seeing your screwed up face, clearly having heard everything, "Can we have a moment alone?"

She doesn't even need a second, before she prances off in Jace's direction, giving him the big eyes. Cregan leads you to the bar by the small of your back, and you can't tell if he's oblivious to how intimate that is, or if it's intentional, but when he does it you can't help but look in Aemond's direction, who's being hounded by Baela, but clearly not listening.

Cregan smirks in Sara's direction, "Poor guy. Being in Sara's sights is never good"

You laugh, "She'll eat him alive"

"Quite literally I think" Cregan chuckles in return.

There's a pause as you lean against the bar.

"How's life with the Targs?" He asks, one large hand encircling a pint glass effortlessly.

You shrug, "Has it's trials and tribulations, but otherwise they've treated me well enough"

Cregan looks around before leaning forward, murmuring in a hushed manner, "All I would say is, be weary of the big guy"

You cock your head, "You mean Otto?"

He points his finger like you've hit the nail on the head, "Yeah, him. I heard he's a right fucking stickler"

You nod, "He's very particular" you smile, reassuringly, "I manage though"

Cregan is about to open his mouth when Aemomd steps forward, his tall stature rivaling Cregans as he makes himself known. The Northern man fakes a smile, nodding in greeting, but neither says anything.

Before you can inquire, Aemond's hand encircles your forearm, "We're leaving"

"What?" You ask wide-eyed, wondering from where this rudeness has come from. 

Aemond tugs you away, and you wave goodbye to Cregan as well as Baela and Rhaena, whose eyes you catch across the room. Sara wiggles her eyebrows.

Aemond doesn't reply, so you fight against his grip, to no avail, "Aemond let go of me. Now"

It's clear Aemond is not listening, and if he is, he doesn't show it on his face. He even stops by the lift, pressing the buttons hurriedly, but once he sees which floor it's coming from, he grumbled and drags you instead up the stairs.

"Aemond, what the fuck is wrong with you!"

"Not having that northern cunt cosying up to you" he murmurs low, dragging you up the four flights of stairs to your floor. Luckily there's nobody there to see you both, it's so late at night.

His face is stoic, lips flat in a line, seething underneath.

"Are you fucking for real? Let go of me!"

It's only when you're in the hallway, stood before the hotel room door that you manage to pull your arm free of him.

"Are you fucking deaf?" You quip angrily, "what the hell was that Aemond?" You push against his chest as hard as you can, but he's built like a fucking brick wall and doesn't move an inch. Doesn't even lose his balance a little.

He doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Do I have to repeat myself? I'm not your fucking girlfriend Aemond! Stop treating me like one"

"You'd rather me let you have the likes of Cregan fucking Stark trying to get into your-"

"So what? What right do you fucking have to boss me around like you own me?" You retort, "besides he was just being nice!"

Aemond chuckles, "Oh yeah, just being nice. He only had one thing on his mind" he smirks, his gaze raking over your dress, "dressed like that, who knows what he was thinking"

"Excuse m-"

Down the hall, a room clicks open, the shadow of it moving barely before Aemond tugs you inside the hotel room out of view. He shuts the door and locks it quickly, his fingers once again curled around your forearm.

"I swear to god, if you grab me more time-"

Aemond scoffs, releasing and facing you, dwarfing you with his form as he approaches, "Or what, princess?" 

You swallow, backing up somewhat when he takes his calculated small steps towards you. His chest level with your eyes, you see the chain poking out beneath the undone buttons, the slightest bit of skin…

"Don't call me that"

"Who can blame Cregan fucking Stark anyway? With you dressed like that" Aemond responds, invading your space even further.

Your throat goes dry, "What?.."

"The second I saw you in that flimsy little thing, all I've been able to think about, is how I'm going to take it off"

Through your fierce blush, you clench your hands, your core doing the same involuntarily, "you're delusional"

He hums a laugh, "You're cute when you're trying to be angry, princess"

You feel how short your breathing is, how your chest goes all tight. It feels like being hunted, when he looks at you like that. That mischievous glint in his good eye.

"What is your fucking deal, hm?" You retort, feeling a last rush of courage, "Does it give you some sick satisfaction making my life hell? First you hate me, then you're indifferent, then you're hating me all over again and now you're acting like th-"

His hand claps around your waist, squeezing painfully, tugging you towards him in a deep, near-desperate and dizzying kiss. Much like the first one in the dressing room, it's urgent, his lips prying yours apart to slip his tongue into your mouth, humming deeply at the contact with yours. His other hand quickly finds the back of your head, anchoring you with him and chests touching only barely.

Everything dissipates, he's a good fucking kisser annoyingly, and he sucks briefly on your lips, making the blood rush to them so that they're swollen from his attention.

Your brain, lost in the brief act of passion, kicks in finally and your hands push him away. Your lips part from each other with a wet click, your face noticeably flush. Aemond too, looks slightly flushed, but wears a smug expression.

"What the hell was that"

"You reciprocated" he answers matter-of-factly,

"In your dreams"

He hums, "So stubborn. Are you always like this?"

"Fuck you"

"In the dressing room, you were so intent to continue" he replies, stepping forward slightly from when you'd pushed him, "If we weren't due to perform, nothing would have stopped me from fucking you right on that table in your sparkly little get-up"

You can't deny how the air gets sucked out your chest when he says that. Hate and lust are head to head inside you, battling for dominance.

"You'd like that wouldn't you…"

It's the way he says the words, so low and calculated, with that lazy smirk. His lips just as kiss bruised as yours, the few strands of hair that fell from his bun, disheveled.

All of your pent up hormones from not having slept with anyone for ages, the memory of what he did in the dressing room, as well as the sight of him right here, giving you that fucking look…

Every fucking look he's given you the past few weeks.

The memory of his hand on your thigh, squeezing.

Every hand against the small of your back…

…something snaps.

"Fuck it" you whisper, advancing on him again, both hands cupping the sides of his face and kissing him fiercely again, putting all those bottled up emotions, good and bad, behind the intensity of it.

You feel him smile smugly against you, his hands rested on your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your dress, "Fucking knew it" he murmurs between the breaks of both your hateful kisses.

One hand sliding round to the back of his head, you card your fingers into his hair, inevitably ruining whatever style he had it in, to pull him closer to you, intensifying the neediness of his lips against yours. You swear he moans at the tugging of his hair, but you don't even hear it, too concentrated on his teeth as they nip at your bottom lip, nursing the area with his tongue afterwards.

A full body shudder erupts through you, sending a gush of arousal straight between your legs. It makes you feel weightless.

As if that weren't enough, Aemond's hands drop, cupping and kneading the flesh of your ass, squeezing near-painfully. The unexpectedness of it makes you gasp into his mouth as he pulls your core that bit closer to his hips, where you can feel the evidence of his arousal hard in his dress pants.

Your hands can't help but explore him as well as he is for you, running across the planes of his well-muscled chest, feeling them strain under your touch like he's holding back. Your fingers run over his chain, dipping to undo the buttons with dizzying speed.

"Eager, are we?" He whispers cockily between kisses.

You shoot him a scathing look, punctuating your words with the rough undoing of more buttons.

"Do you ever shut up"

He doesn't reply, too entranced by the softness of your touch on his bare pale skin as it's revealed button by button. His own hands trace up your middle, over your ribs and straight past your breasts to the straps of your dress, tangling his fingers into one and them and pulling it over your shoulder. Not quite enough to expose any intimate part of you.

Fuck, he's teasing you.

His lips migrate past yours, his nose ghosting over your cheek to your neck, where his lips tease the sensitive skin with open-mouthed kisses, teeth nipping at the space where it meets your shoulder. It's rougher than anticipated, and a soft breathy moan slips out, only serving to spur him on.

His one hand on our waist pushes you back, your knees hitting the mattress sending your body against it. He follows you, cushioning the fall and looming over you, using one of his knees to edge your legs apart for him.

In the heat of it all you've managed at least to get his shirt entirely open, shifting the fabric from his shoulders, shamelessly appreciating the shape of him. Your fingers trail that little bit of hair leading beneath his belt, feeling how the muscles of his abdomen flex with the contact, hearing the whisper of a low moan in his throat.

It's only when your hand begins to massage the very obvious and, you hate to say it, impressive bulge of his erection, that Aemond lets out a shuddered quiet moan, his breath fluttering against your neck.

You smirk, "Eager, are we?" You tease, echoing his previous words.

It's like a switch flipped and Aemond rights himself slightly, one hand taking both of yours and pinning them above your head in a very sudden act of dominance. He revels in the shocked look on your face, his black shirt now forgotten on the floor.

"Keep them there. You won't like it if I have to ask twice, Princess"

His voice send a bolt of pleasure to your core, and you visibly swallow nervously, watching his hands dip to your thighs and pushing the fabric of your dress up to your hips.

You jump in your place as Aemond's hands brace your thighs roughly, parting them and bringing his lips to the sensitive skin on the inside, trailing them up slowly, teasingly, to place an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed core.

"You have no idea what you do to me" he murmurs against you, wrapping the hem of your underwear around his fingers and tugging them off your legs. The motion, as quick as he does it, leaves your lungs breathless for a moment as he descends and kisses the now bare skin on the crease where your hip meets your thigh.

"Aemon-" 

Aemond's tongue swipes through your slick folds and he groans low at the taste which sends a deep thrum of want through your core, making everything seem just too much to bear. Too much and yet too little all at the same time.

"Fuck, baby…"

You can feel your thighs shaking against his grip as he keeps them parted for him. It halts every thought in your mind, back arching off the bed as he delves deeper, his tongue parting your folds to fuck you with the wet muscle repeatedly. It feels like he's trying to discover places inside you, as deep as they may be, to make you fall apart.

The angle has your lips parted with hurried breaths, head thrown back against the bed, struggling to keep quiet with the way his nose moves side to side against your aching bundle of nerves.

"Fuck…Aemond…" 

It feels like as soon as the pressure begins to build in your belly, he comes away, his lips glistening with your slick, causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. His eyes gleam with mischief.

"What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Before anger even has a chance to reach you, he plunges two fingers knuckle-deep inside you, instantly curled up trying to find that sweet spot inside. Your thighs shut around his hand, effectively trapping him there, a slew of desperate moans filling the silence in the room, as well as the wet smack of his hand as he fucks you with his fingers.

" - ah, fuck, Aemond - "

He grins, "Fuck you're soaked for me…" he muses, increasing the intensity, pistoning them inside you, "...come on, baby…"

He finds that spot with infuriating accuracy, aided by the thickness and length of his fingers, stretching your pussy as he watches them disappear, covered in your arousal.

Your back arches impossibly, thighs squeezed tight. And he smirks in victory.

"There it is…"

Logic, reality, everything is just absolutely gone. Mind blank, and all you're able to think is just him. The pleasure he is giving you. His words. It's all just too much.

The coil in your belly threatens to snap at any moment, the pads of his fingers bullying your g-spot mercilessly. So much you can feel your slick soak his hand and the insides of your thighs.

And just like that.

It's gone.

Your crane your head to him, looking up as he kneels between your legs, outright moaning as he swipes his digits through his lips into his mouth. Tasting you.

Your clit throbs at the lewd action, as well as the fact he's enjoying it so much. Feeling your face flushed and heat bathing your skin.

His hands drop to his belt, "You look so fucking perfect like this" he says, the sound of the leather slipping from his dress pants sending a bolt of arousal back to the place you need him most.

"Don't look at me like that" he smirks, his fists closing around the buttons, "the first time I make you cum, it's going to be on my cock"

You would think of some kind of quip, but Aemond tugs his underwear down, his cock springing free, and his hand coming to stroke himself to full hardness. The motion has you captivated, and inadvertently makes your thighs press together.

Aemond is big. Perhaps bigger than anyone you've had before. He is slightly curved, leaning slightly to the right, and as he strokes himself, his thumb swipes whatever precum comes out his weeping pink tip all over his cockhead, sighing softly at the relief of it. Your breath is momentarily stolen once you realise how his large hand encircles it, making it clear how thick he is on top of all that.

Annoyingly, he has the prettiest cock you've ever seen.

As a last ditch attempt to keep up appearances, your eyes meet his.

"What makes you think I'd let you?" You challenge, "you've not apologised to me yet"

Quite unexpectedly, he smirks, laughing lowly.

"Oh, Princess" he whispers, one hand pulling the rucked up fabric of the dress at your waist and removing it, tearing the fabric over your head and leaving you entirely naked and exposed. The sensation of the fabric and cool air has your nipped harden to attention, and Aemond sighs appreciatively as he kneads one breast in his palm.

He leans down, his tongue darting out to tease the skin around your nipple, "I am sorry" he muses condescendingly, before closing one nipple around his lips, tongue swirling against it. You're unable to do anything but press your lips together to stifle a moan.

Aemond pays special attention, lapping at it like a man starved, humming and pleased at the reaction he gets when he grazes his teeth over it. He pulls off with a gentle pop, kissing the valley of your breasts, his cock hanging heavily against your thigh. So close, and yet still feels so far away.

He reaches away for a second to go for his wallet on the bedside table, but your hand moves quickly to capture his wrist. His piercing gaze looks down at you questioningly.

"I'm clean…" you say, face hot with embarrassment, "...and I'm on birth control"

Aemond grins wolfishly at the admission, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck, "Someone's prepared"

You gasp when he drags the head of his cock up your folds, parting them only slightly.

"You just want it raw, don't you?"

From this action alone you can feel how wet you are, and when he taps his cockhead against your clit a few times sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, it's obvious when it smacks wetly against your skin.

"Now baby, it's just you and me. I want to hear you when I fuck you. Understood?"

You nod, dizzy from just how much he's teasing you. 

"Just fuck me" you plead, annoyance colouring your tone.

He laughs through his nose and your mouth drops open when he pushes into you, splitting you open on his thick cock, slowly working his way inside.

"I'm going to fuck that little attitude right out of you"

Fuck.

Aemond bottoms out inside you, stilling for a moment for you to adjust but also for him to catch his bearings. He breathes in shuddered bursts against your neck, his stomach flexing and fists tightened either side of your head.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight…can feel you squeezing me…" he moans softly against your ear, pushing himself as far inside you as he can possibly go. It has your eyes fluttering shut as his length tucks against that sweet spot, filling you aggravatingly perfectly, the walls of your pussy stretching deliciously to take him.

"Shit-Aemond…" you mewl as he shallowly fucks himself into you a few times, craving friction, craving what glimpse you saw of him earlier, "...please…"

Resting on his forearms, one hand ventures to your thigh to spread you further apart as he pulls almost all the way out.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely"

All air seems to be stolen out of your lungs and replaced with warming bliss as Aemond's slams back inside, his hips immediately pressing with a loud smack against you as he thrusts ceaselessly, holding both of your thighs in his palms.

With every harsh push inside, a soft, moan-like breath slips from your lips. Gods, when was the last time someone fucked you, as in properly fucked you, like this? Probably longer than you'd like to admit. That Highgarden guy left you high and dry, and even the guys before that, they probably thought girls had one hole, so knew little about how to pleasure you.

It's clear Aemond doesn't share this trait, and your thought process is immediately zipped from your past sexual encounters to right now as Aemonds thumb begins to deftly gather your arousal on it to circle around your clit, setting every nerve alight.

"Stubborn and a brat?" He muses, applying a delicious amount of pressure to that needy bundle of nerves, "I thought I made myself very clear, Princess. I want to hear you"

He punctuates his demand with two particularly harsh thrusts, your arousal sounding almost pornographic in nature.

Whether you want to or not, your lips part more to let your sounds of pleasure fill the room, the ceaseless sounds of your fucking alongside it. Your hands fist the bedsheets and Aemond hums appreciatively watching your breasts and body move with every motion.

He rewards you by increasing the speed of his motions, practically fucking you into the mattress. It's here that is the first time you see Aemond let his face show what he's feeling. That smug, cocksure smirk he has worn since arriving back at the hotel room drops, and his jaw slackens, his eye hooded to look down at you with reverence.

"Fuck-baby, I can feel you, you're going to cum for me aren't you-" he moans, his hips never letting up their pace, "shit-feels so good. Been dreaming of this for fucking weeks"

"Aemond-" you moan softly, turning your head, closing your eyes, feeling all exposed to him when he looks at you like that. The pressure in your gut is absolutely set to explode, and you feel that coil tighten impossibly.

Your throat tightens as Aemond leans down, his hips hitting the flesh of your thighs as he continues to piston his cock inside you, the chain around his neck dangling arousingly above you. 

You feel him grab your face, turning you to face him, your eyes slightly hooded with pleasure but looking right at him. It's so intimate, it makes your skin feel like it's on fire. 

His expression is serious.

"I want you to look at me when I make you cum"

Your hand joins his wrist, guiding him to your neck, and his jaw slackens again when he realises what you want. His fingers wrap around your neck, palm against your windpipe, and he just holds you there, feeling your pulse fluttering against his touch.

All you're able to utter before falling off the edge of your pleasure is, "fuck-"

Blinding white pleasure courses through your veins, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling every single thing Aemond is doing but ten times more sensitive. Being edged twice before certainly didn't help. Every thrust inside, brushing against your sweet spot, the way his thumb continues to press circles against your bud, has your orgasm extended in a long drawn-out shattered moan.

Aemond buries his head into your neck, his arms enveloped around you, letting your bud finally have a reprieve. Your thighs begin to shake as Aemond fucks you through it, overstimulation rocking through your entire body with the incessant bullying of his length against your sweet spot.

"It's alright, baby, I've got you" he whispers, his own tone strained. You can't help but sigh fondly at his words.

"Fuck-where-"

"Inside me…please"

Aemond feels you tighten impossibly around him one last time before he stills, hot ropes of his cum painting your walls and leaving an unmistakable warmth at the deepest parts of your core. Aemond says nothing, but moans helplessly against your neck and you feel his all-body shudder through your hold on his shoulders.

He fucks you shallowly, aching for the last moments of friction just as your orgasm subsides, replaced with a manageable dull thrum, practically able to fell your own heartbeat, and his with his presence inside you. The drag of his cock through your sensitive walls has breathless pants spilling from your mouth.

The silence stretches as Aemond stills, his cock softening within you. 

You don't have time to consider what at all he's thinking, as he presses a chaste kiss to your jaw, significantly softer than anything you've both done since arriving back to the hotel room. It shocks you, the intimacy of it.

What had you expected him to do? Get up, pull on his clothes and leave?

Maybe.

You had no expectations with Aemond. So for him to do this, had your chest constrain almost painfully. 

What did this mean?

Did he just want a quick fuck?

Had he done this with Floris?

What did it mean for your partnership?

You're almost disappointed in yourself that these are the first thoughts on your mind. 

And yet despite the pleasure running hot through your veins even still, as Aemond props himself up to look down at you, his chest heaving with hurried breaths, there's something on his face, in his expression, that you just cannot read.

There's an uncertainty in not being able to read him.

And underneath that hum of pleasure, through your rapid heartbeat, there lies something that hurtles you deep away from it all.

Doubt.

Taglist 1 (Bold means I could not tag!)

General Taglist: @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics 

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep ​ | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514 | @dahlias-and-marigolds | @fan-goddess | @gaeela-6

[navybrat817]

Any chance we'll see tattoo artist Steve soon? 🥺

Here's a bit of Steve's birthday, nonnie.

By Any Other Name

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Steve Rogers x Teacher!Female Reader Summary: You're the only thing Steve wants for his birthday. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Implied sex, implied oral sex (f. receiving), future couple, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Thorn and Rose, set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @jobean12-blog for chatting with me about this! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and Steve edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thing you thought when you woke up was that you couldn't believe how well rested you were. The sun was already up, shining bright through the window and curtain. You didn't normally sleep in and had no idea what time it was, but you didn't care as you nestled back into the pillow. It was going to be a good day.

If indicated by the wonderful ache between your thighs.

Your eyes widened when the figure beside you wrapped an arm tight around your waist. For a second, you almost forgot that you weren't alone and weren't in your bed. The large body was so warm and solid, practically a furnace. The beard that tickled your neck made the ache in your core throb with need.

So, I did actually sleep with my tattoo artist. It wasn’t a dream.

"Morning," Steve rasped, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as you held back a whimper.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

Your heart fluttered when he raised his head, his deep blue eyes focusing more as he smiled. His blonde hair was slightly dishevled, but he managed to still look perfect. You probably looked like a monster. It didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss between the center of your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his muscular arm pulling you a bit closer.

"I'm okay," you replied after a moment, lightly tracing one of the tattoos on his forearm.

"Just okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You weren't sure how to respond. The gorgeous man who talked you through getting your tattoo was practically a stranger. And you slept with him. To say he rocked your world was an understatement. The man shattered you and you couldn’t believe how he was able to put every piece of you back into place.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name when I make you come for me. I’ve got you.”

The mere memory, along with his chest against yours, made your nipples hard and made you damp between your legs. You didn’t draw any attention to it though. While he didn’t seem like the type to kick you out of his bed, you had no idea where he wanted to go from here.

“More than okay. I slept really well,” you admitted, backing up just a little. He didn’t need your morning breath in his face.

Steve only pulled you closer. “So did I,” he smiled, cracking his neck a little. “And how’s your wrist feeling?”

“Just fine. Thank you,” you said as he gently took it to check. You still couldn’t believe you ran from the chair when he turned the tattoo gun on. Needles weren’t your thing. He managed to get you through it and you were glad for it.

The rose and single thorn tattoo was beautiful and worth conquering that fear.

“I’m glad you went through with it. And I’m not afraid to tie you down if you try to run from me again,” he winked, making your cheeks hot. “I have to say, this is the best way to wake up on my birthday.”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” you smiled when he gave you a sheepish look. “Happy birthday, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

To be fair, you didn’t know and you hadn’t expected to go home with him last night.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, slowly tugging the sheet away. “But do you want to give me something?”

Instead of trying to cover yourself up, you let him fully see you in the sunlight. The way his eyes darkened, he liked what he saw. “What did you have in mind?” you asked, your voice huskier than before.

“Well, Bucky and the guys are having a small thing for me tonight,” he said, lightly running his fingers along your torso. “Would you, maybe, want to go?”

Not what I thought he’d have in mind, but that kind of sounds like a date.

“Sure,” you smiled, happy that he wanted to see you again. “I’d love to go.”

Watching his face light up was almost like you gave him a real gift. “Is it selfish to ask for one more thing?” he asked, bracing himself over you before he leaned down to capture your mouth.

Any self-conciousness about your breath and anything else disappeared as desire took over. His cock was hard, trapped between your bodies as he lightly grinded against you. “That all depends on what you ask for,” you teased as he moved his kisses down your neck.

“Scream my name again. Do it while my tongue’s deep inside you,” he said as you bit your lip. It sounded more like a command and one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “And do it again when I give you my cock.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“Louder than that, Rose,” he said, nipping your collarbone and making you giggle at the reference of your tattoo. “And since it’s my birthday, I get to eat as much as I want.”

“You really are going to be a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” you asked affectionately.

“I prefer to be the ache between your gorgeous thighs,” he smirked. “So open up and let me eat.”

Your legs spread without another word. You’d let him have his fill. It was his birthday, after all. And it would’ve been wrong to deny him.

Steve deserves it, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

June 30th

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1. Ok this might be a shot in the dark. But do you know of a fic where basically it’s an arranged marriage (kind of) between lan zhan and trans (ftm) wei ying. It believe it is based on a reddit thread of a gay guy who got into an arranged marriage with a woman, but they actually are a trans man. Anyways…the reddit posts are deleted by now. But I remember reading this fic a couple years back and I can’t find it anywhere. Either it’s been deleted or hopefully someone else is able to find it 😭

FOUND? Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach by Khashana (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern, Arranged Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, fake married, Sort Of, Rule 63, Trans Woman WWX, Partial Cisswap, implied background/societal homo/transphobia, But nothing overt, background LXC/Qin Su also in a marriage of convenience way, gender euphoria, the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with your spouse, based on that one reddit post, Light Angst, Light Pining, this fic is soft mostly) I think #1 might be this one, although wwx is a trans woman in it (it's a wlw wangxian AU) rather than a trans man

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2. Hi!! I cant remember if I already sent this or just thought really hard about it 😪 Im looking for a modern AU fic where WWX is dx'd ADHD and he and LWJ slowly start a relationship. The scene I remember most clearly is there being fireworks and it send LWJ into a meltdown. Ether just before or after the meltdown he found out LXC and LQR have been trying to get him diagnosed with Autism.

Xiao Xingchen is an adult psych who specalizes in neurodivergence iirc, and WWX helps make LWJ feel more okay w possibly being neurodiverse by talking about his experience w ADHD and Xiao Xingchen.

🙇‍♀️ thank you! @la-voce-to-me

FOUND! together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, Bottom LWJ, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen, wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub, Brief LWJ/Others, Past WWX/Other(s)) sounds a lot like the happenings in chapter 8!

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3. hey admins! i'm looking for a fic where wwx is from the modern world back and somehow goes back in time to the cloud recesses and spends some time there, and towards the end of the fic lwj goes back to the modern with wwx. (i also remember that wwx and lwj goes back and forth often visiting each others home) thanks! <3

FOUND? Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

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4. This for fic finder. Its an old fic. Modern au focused on junior quartet. I dont know if the fic is several fic or in one fic. Junior quartet is in a club where they make a magazine (sorry i forgot the word both in my language and in english). They have an access to a school forum. LJY found an old forum talking about wangxian. Like the people in that forum failed to make wangxian happen in the past. If i remember correctly, they tried to matchmake wangxian. They ask LWJ to accompany them to yunmeng. In yunmeng, there are big festival happened there and they meet the jiang family in second floor of the restaurant to watch the festival from there. I think the jiangs is a respectable family that many people know them. So long story short, they manage to matchmake wangxian. I dont know if LJY release the news to that old forum or someone did. Just that LJY have an inkling the account that helped them is NHS. I dont know if this is important but LJY username has connection to chicken. I think thats all. Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Operation Old Men by Chiharu (Not Rated, 37k, WangXIan, JL & LSZ & LJY, JYL/JZX, Modern, Boarding School, Single Parents, Everyone Is Alive, Matchmaking, Family Dynamics, Hospitals, Meet the Family, Family Vacation, Weddings, School Reunion, Happy Ending)

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5. this for ficfinder! i need help looking for a time travel fic wherein established wangxian travel back to their teen years. iirc wwx and lwj writes to each other in secret and wwx invents talismans to give to the jiang sect so that he can repay his debts and leave the clan when he is at a certain age. lwj also leaves (??). i think they become rogue cultivators tgt. im pretty sure i have this downloaded but i cant find it from hundreds of fics bc i cant rmbr the name 😭

FOUND! Trials of Time by Muggle_Diary (E, 32k, wangxian, major character death, underage, time travel, not jiang friendly, not YZY friendly, not JC friendly, butterfly effect)

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6. Hello!! So i think the fic got deleted but all i can remember was wangxian had mythical creature eggs? Like they had a dragon,tiger,snake&turqoise and phoenix and they can talk telepathically at first then they can shift to humans later on!Thank you again so much!!!!

FOUND? For #6 with telepathic creatures, I haven't read the fic, but could it be that magical marriage ribbons series?

FOUND? #6 is My Immortal. I can't do the link on I'm my phone. It has the mythical beasts.

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7. Hii, I'm looking for a fic in which lan zhan goes to a party with lan xichen and then keeps going to the same house where the party is at many times and hangs out with wei ying on the basement sofa

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8. hii!! i recently read a fanfic where wei wuxian can't sleep because he gets horrible nightmares, there's one particular scene where the juniors are practically dragging him into cloud recesses, and he's falling asleep whilst walking and they meet with Lan wangji. if you could help me find it, that would be super great !! @spaaarkie

FOUND? hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

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9. I thought I had subscribed to this fic but I guess not... Looking for a WIP in which WWX is ambushed in Yiling, but he has A-Yuan with him so he's extra desperate in trying to fight the attackers off. There might be fire involved? Either the title, the description or the tags have some reference to "hysterical strength" (maybe! not 100% sure about that one!). Thank you. 🖤❤️ @linderel

FOUND! Hysterical Strength by covalentbonds (Not rated, 3k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Inspired by a Bollywood movie scene, Everyone Lives/Nobody dies, Parent WWX)

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10. hi!! i'm looking for a fic i read about a year ago(?) on ao3, where during the cloud recesses study arc (i think?) lqr and the other teachers notice that wwx's basic education is lacking and wwx says it's because yzy doesn't let him join jc's lessons because wwx is supposed to be a right hand man and his education is therefore less important, so the lan elders and scholars all team up to give him remedial lessons; i think there's also a part where they build a case against the jiang sect because the sect scholars failed their responsibility to teach their disciples equally. the fic holding shreds by barisan reminds me of it a little bit, but instead of yzy's physical abuse of wwx the one i'm looking for is all about the emotional abuse and education inequality

FOUND?🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) in this one, Xichen is speculating that WWXs education was stunted, especially in sect etiquette, deliberately by mme yu.

FOUND?🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad) in this one the lan sect does the scholar case thing where they accuse jiang sect of failing their duties by neglecting to educate wei ying.

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11. hi, i'm looking for a fic which i found on twitter but im sure links to AO3 — basically everyone in the universe is some sort of animal (wwx is a fox, lwj is a dragon?) and they're classified by their mating cycles (whether they mate for life or seasonally). wwx and lwj gets engaged but lwj calls it off as wwx is a fox and therefore mates seasonally vs his for-life situation. wwx gets sad about it and then they find out wwx actually can mate for life! i used to find it easily before but for some reason no matter what i search, it just won't come up and i don't think i was logged into ao3 at the time i read it either. hope someone remembers it as well, thanks!

FOUND? what you have tamed by lianhua_lianzi, Senforza (E, 94k, WangXian, Animal Traits, misunderstandings, Courting Rituals, Pining, Lan family dynamics, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Wangxian break up but get back together, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied Mpreg, Unresolved Sexual Tension, unintentional and eventually resolved “gaslighting”, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX)

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12. Hi I’m trying to find a fic where jiang Cheng is being forced to get married/find an heir. I remember that a member of YunmengJiang approached him with a list of members of the sect that would leave if he didn’t get an heir. I think it was mentioned that people were okay with him not having getting married since they assumed Jin Ling would inherit and Jin Guangyao would have another child but once his crimes were revealed they started to pressure him.

I know it wasn’t a Jiang cheng/lan Xichen or jiang cheng/nie Huaisang

FOUND? Karma by such_stuff_as_dreams_are_made_on (Not Rated, 2k, JC & OCs, Post-Canon, Arranged Marriage, Light Angst, Minor WangXian, Not JC Friendly)

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13. I’m trying to find this fic where Wei Ying is looking for spouse for some reason and he starts asking everyone in Cloud Recesses but Lan Zhan even ask LXC to be his partner right in front of LWJ

If you have an idea about what I’m talking about thank you!!

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14. so theres this fic in which jiang cheng and wei wuxian sit in a boat in jiang cheng's memories and wei wuxian sings a song that he altered slightly. im pretty sure it was a reconcilliation fic but im not sure but jc was a bit emotional. i can't find it, please help!

related to the previous ask, what i described is also only a scene from that fic and probably not what the entire fic is about. i only remember that one scene. @theartisticdoofus

FOUND? sing to the clouds in summerby stiltonbasket (G, 28k, JC & WWX, JC & JL, wangxian, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, 13k words of JC figuring out that LSZ is his nephew, ft. LXC and NHS the overprotective uncles, and LWJ giving JC death glares, Family Secrets, Reconciliation, Sad JC, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Podfic Available) the song is in chapter 4

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15. Dear FicFinder Team, here I am again with only vibes and one scene. It was a WIP CQL post-canon fic, set during WWX's wanderings. At some point he exorcises a ghost in a tower (not one of the watchtower fics tho) and the last scene was WWX on his way back, kneeling in the grass to make offerings to his shijie and finally letting himself cry about her death. Maybe there were food descriptions too, I read this very early on and cannot find it in my history. It was exquisitely written too. @kinoumenthe

FOUND! the earth remembered me by remux (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, POV WWX, Post-Canon, Emotional Edging, Letters, emotional support strangers, Original Character(s), lwj's quiet devotion)

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16. Do you know the name for a fic where WWX is invisible (for some reason) and is in LWJ room (for some reason) and WWX watches LWJ hump a pillow but then LWJ notices that someone is in the room with him yada yada they have sex i forget when it gets revealed that it’s WWX

NOT FOUND! Mak Siccar by therealandraste (E, 20k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Misunderstandings, Pining, Happy Ending, Paperman smut - only god can judge me, Original Character Death(s)) the details don't exactly fit but

FOUND! Clinomania by malkinmalkout (E, 6k, WangXian, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Somnophilia, misuse of talismans, PWP, Riding, Oral Sex, binding, Happy Ending, canon typical non-con)

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17. hello I'm looking for this twitter threadfic written by cerbykerby where wwx is a mermaid captured and brought in for studying by scientist lwj and others, and they eventually become mates. i've tried looking through their account for it but the fic is old and the search is way too far down, and i can't find the full fic. pls help out thanks!

FOUND? this is the unrolled threadfic by cerbykerby, I think

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18. Hi! First time requesting something like this, but I really need help finding this one fanfic. It’s a incomplete wangxian fanfic and the summary of what I remember was that when WWX wakes up in MXY’s body after thirteen years, people are actually praising YL WWX because somehow (I cant remember how) the truth behind his actions and why he did what he did in the first place. JC faces some hate from the cultivation world, JL doesn’t hate WWX, and LWJ is extremely protective of WWX. Hope all this information helps!!! @nikki-g-m

Could #18 be that fic where a painter/theater guy did an interview with drunk wwx during the burial mounds arc and then it got published after his death so that when he resurrects its's all settled already (?). I dont remember the name either but maybe someone else will

FOUND? 💖 The Ballad of Hanguang-Jun and The Yiling Patriarch by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 40k, WangXian, ChengQing, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Burial Mounds Arc, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Humor, musical theater?, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, Crack treated seriously) The commenter on 18 was thinking of The ballad of Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch, though idk if this is the fic OP wants

FOUND? i think its deleted? Have You Heard Of The Yiling Patriach by R_PONTS

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19. literally just reading a random wangxian fic when I I remembered this one fic I read a while ago. I can’t really remember a lot of details but from what I remember Wei ying is the cloud recess for whatever reason and he get the silencing spell out on him and he panicked and starts scratching and clawing at his throat and everybody’s watching horrified like please y’all help me remember 😭 @saintzx

FOUND?🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 56k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad) The clawing is because he's desperate to defend JC against LQR's (rightful) admonishing, after JYL told him he should've tried harder after being silenced on a previous occasion defending JC

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20. Hello

Love your blog!

A) I'm looking for a fic where wwx was raised by WRH, but it is introduced with him being the one to raze Cloud Recess and starting ti flirt with a prisoner LWJ who's very much " bro, wtf" in his inner monologue.

He's bff w Xye Yang and at one point thinks of doing lwj favors

B) Modern au where wwx and lwj had been married, adopted LSZ and then divorced due to someone either framing wwx or LWJs fam pressuring him to it. Wwx still has visitation rights and all, and at one point lwj buys them a house as an apology, but wwx is less than cash money above it, bcs lwj didn't truly fix the mistrust or whatever the reason for their breakup was @midnightlighthowlite

20B)

FOUND? 🔒 Life as a House by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 55k, WangXian, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Father-Son Relationship, Reconciliation, Therapy)

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21. Hello there, I’m not sure if this is a fic finder or an in the mood for, because I’m looking for a fic and more like that.

So you know how theres this TikTok Sound of someone called Nick who asks for the WLAN Password and its I Love You Nick and Nick is in a lot of denial about being lovers even though their anniversary is coming up?

I found a fic that was basically WY and LZ in a relationship, and WY/LZ (but more likely WY) didn’t realise that they were anything more than friends, and it was very funny.

More comedic than anything else. But I cannot for the life of me find it, and everytime I try and search for it, only the sad version shows up.

Please send help, I need to read this fluff….I crave it. @desperation-is-my-middle-name

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