#i had the sudden realization and wanted to share

[obsessivevoidkitten]

A Mouthful of Cum Helps the Medicine Go Down

Male Surgeon DILF Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Nonconsensual oral sex, reader sucking that dick like they are the Gluckgluck 3000, somnophilia, non descriptive surgery, gun violence, blood, recovery, dream sequence, happy ending, mild age gap, dating Word Count: 1.3k (Written as a birthday gift for a friend, all written in a few hours yesterday, so I am sorry for any errors.)

The date you had just finished with Doctor Michael Hayes had gone pretty well. He was handsome and well put together, neat and tidy, and his personality definitely fit with what you had been looking for. In fact, you already set up another one with him at his request. Evidently the older gentleman, an actual surgeon, had felt the date had gone well too.

The evening kept replaying in your head. His rugged but charming demeanor, his eyes full of experience but still flashed with a sense of adventure whenever he stared at you. Maybe he was the one! After a deluge of slobs, bums, and selfish toxic freaks the thought that you may have found the man for you was like a breath of fresh air.

And he was just so handsome! A bit older, maybe mid to late forties, but he was definitely aging gracefully. You had to admit you definitely had some lewd thoughts about where you wanted his dick. In the texts the two of you had shared you had really felt a connection with him and had built a solid friendship but tonight solidified that it would evolve into something more.

You pulled into your driveway, just getting home after sharing your meal with Hayes. You drew your coat close, shivering from the sudden exposure to the chilly night air. You closed your car door with a thud and started walking up the path to your door, the thin layer of snow crunched beneath your steps as you did so.

A dark figure cloaked in shadow jumped out from one of the hedges that hugged the front of your house. A loud bang. Piercing pain. On the ground. You saw your blood leave you as the snow drank it greedily. Then darkness.

////

You were unconscious as the doctors rushed around you, zipping you to the operating room, communicating over your injured body about your condition.

Doctor Hayes was back on duty after your date, that’s why it had been so quick, otherwise he would have liked to spend more time with you. He was already sure the two of you would end up in a long term relationship. You just fit together far too well. It wasn't just one date, the two of you had been chatting for just over a month before meeting. You were a high ranked and well regarded detective and he was a surgeon, you both saved lives and you were both incredibly busy, so it took a while before the two of you could set up a proper date.

He was determined to see you again soon though. Only he didn’t realize that it would be on his very operating table. It certainly was not how he had wanted your next meeting to go.

It was touch and go a couple times, but luckily the bullet had missed your heart. The procedure was a success and full recovery was soon expected. Though a coma was medically induced to give you time to heal properly.

Even though you were pretty much out of the woods Hayes still held your hand and sat by your side during every free moment that he had. He heard from the cops, who were very eager to find the perpetrator, that they suspected you had been shot by an inmate that had been put away thanks to your detective work who had recently escaped. They had already caught the fucker but were just working on gathering evidence and getting a confession.

At any rate you were safe now with him, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Over the course of a couple days with you out like a light he had taken to just staring at your face, so peaceful in rest. Like an angel. He fantasized about the things the two of you would do while you recovered. The life you might have in the future.

And, occasionally, how it would feel to slip into you. He had played it cool during the chats the two of you shared and during your date but he was terribly obsessed with the thought of being with you, even masturbating more than once to pictures of your face that were available on social media.

One late night after his shift he found himself with you in your room and couldn’t help but stare at your lips. They looked so supple and he couldn’t help but think to himself that they would feel amazing wrapped around his cock. He gently traced your lips with his thumb and actually considered for a moment pulling out his dick and using that instead.

He quickly brushed the fantasy aside though. Until he heard you very quietly, but very clearly, mumble his name in your sleep in a lusty way.

Hayes’s resolve broke in the face of temptation. After that how could he possibly resist? He quickly locked the door and brought his cock to your lips. The best he had hoped for was rubbing it on your lips then jacking off until he came on your mouth.

To his surprise you opened your mouth and began sucking it in a way that could only be described as eager. He had to double check to make sure that you were truly asleep. He moaned involuntarily as you took him in his entirety, expertly twirling your tongue around his cock head as you sucked him off.

The surgeon stroked your hair, letting you go at your own pace as you blew him.

////

In your dreams you had just gone on another outing with Hayes. It had gone even better than the first and he had come back home with you. After some time spent on the couch snuggled up with one another as you streamed some show that neither of you paid much attention to you ended up with your head on his lap and his cock out in front of you.

You sucked it happily, starting on the tip and making your way quickly down the shaft. Normally you would have taken your time, but you were spurred on by his encouraging moans and the sensation of him absently stroking your hair.

You sucked a bit faster in anticipation of your prize. And you were well rewarded with what you sought. His cock throbbed in your mouth as it gushed with cum. You gladly swallowed every drop before smiling and going back to innocently laying your head on his lap as he put away his manhood.

////

This dream had coincided with reality, it wasn’t even necessary for the doctor to clean his cock as you had swallowed every trace of what he had just done. He briefly felt regret but pushed it away, the two of you had chatted about sex before anyway, it was only a matter of time before you would be on his dick anyway. And it didn’t seem like your sleeping self had minded very much at all.

When you woke up a few hours later, groaning from pain and being informed of your situation by none other than Hayes himself who by wild coincidence was your surgeon, you couldn’t help but imagine the taste of cum in your mouth. As if your dream had been reality.

When you found out that Hayes had spent so much time at your side while you were incapacitated you were truly touched. What other man would do that after just a date and a month of chatting online? It went far beyond the duties of a doctor.

That was the tale of how your long lived romance with Hayes started, and you definitely made the dream you had come true many times over the years, never aware of what he had done while you were recovering.

[shikaizer]

DIRTY PLEASURE. 001

ᯓ Paige Bueckers x Reader x Caitlin Clark

summary : Reader is a transferee, it didn't take long for people to like her and get along with her for her charm, that even the two fuck boys in her university had taken a liking to her, curiosity took the best and made way for its foul decisions.

warning : 18+ cursing( too much, might be sensitive for readers), agressive!, toxic caitlin, toxic paige, veryyyy toxic, TOXIC TOXIC, suggestive words , stupido reader😣.

"oh trust me, shes a whore. she must have fucked half of the girls in this class." aliyah whispered to you and scoffed

"there's no way.. i dont think shes the type to do that.." you sighed eyebrows raising

"bro, can you tell miss curious over here how fucked caitlin is?" aliyah nudged the girl beside her and she looked over at the two of you

"caitlin? about what?" she asked frowning, removing her earphones

"why so curious about her all the sudden?" she asked again the two of your eyes met

"well both of them are currently talking, but i kept telling her that shes was gonna fuck with her." aliyah rolled her eyes leaning her back to her seat

"ugh yeah, i mean my sister have told me about her, shes kinda fucked" she chuckled you cant help but feel stressed, you kinda liked caitlin, you really do, but you dont really know if it was just a small crush or if you just idolize her.

"yoo.i remember when she fucking slapped caitlin dude that was awesome!" aliyah exclaimed, you cant help but look down overthinking

this past few weeks, you and caitlin have been sharing some few messages, it was either her texting you first to see if you have finished a certain class, something about the latest lesson your prof have discussed, or when a work was given. and it suddenly came to the point where she would invite you to her to party whenever her game has finished, and sometimes would check on you, if you have eaten, and if your still up, this would cause the both of you to talk about some certain things that interests you.

until....

when your conversation have suddenly shifted to flowers to comfort, caitlin had other comfort in her mind. focusing on the thoughts of having a friendly conversation had made you think it was okay to talk about some vulgar thing.

caitlin : well i eat pussies whenever im stressed, lol.

reader : what?

caitlin : nothing

reader : does that feel good?

caitlin : eating pussy orrrr???

reader : yeah that

caitlin : want to know?

your cheeks heated up and you hesistated to type then a three dot started bouncing that made your stomach feel like its knotting

caitlin : do you??

reader : stop fucking around dude, im not believing your ass

your reply was not something you meant, you gave an small hint that you wanted her to prove that she was fucking serious

caitlin : you dont want to?

caitlin : im down whenever

reader : fuck off caitlin

you just rolled your eyes, realizing she must be joking around, but you mentally slapped your self for even thinking, MAYBE, maybe, she was actually serious, because actually, you really find her so damn atttactive, her body, her face, the way she plays basketball you can't even imagine the way she would handle you to bed. the way she flexes her muscles, and the way she would stare at you. it was all too hypnotizing to bare

"how about paige?" you asked looking up at the both of them to be met with a frowning face

"shes literally the same." aliyah chuckled and nudged the girl beside her laughing

"hey hey look at this, my friend send me this one like months ago." the girl beside aliyah reached out for her phone, scrolling down then setting the phone infront of you, it was a convo.

paige : aw come on. please?

bella : ugh, i already send you one

paige : please i really need a goodluck charm

bella : and im still mad at you.

paige : is this about sheila? i already told you i was just playing with her

bella : okay? biting her neck was playing?

paige : you dont bite your friends?

bella : no! especially not in the fucking neck!

paige : whatever, look just send it to me pretty girl, please?

bella : ugh fine.

bella : [attachment sent]

paige : fuckkk

paige : yummy as always

bella : yeah whatevs

bella : um

bella : hello?

bella : great leaving me on seen again.

your eyes furrowed thru the messages your heart beating fast, you are confused as hell. so confused and hopeless

"what the hell..." you muttured to your self and looked at her in disbelief

"so shes that type of person..." you muttured, and thought about caitlin, but she was just playing around with you right? so it was a whatever

"oh honey shes worse" she swiped and revealed another conversation and you leaned down again "this was like a few days after"

thursday 12:26

bella : great, leaving me on seen again.

today

paige : hey

paige : are you ignoring me?

paige : saw you in that skirt, looks tasty

bella : the hell do you want?

paige : woah okay what a way to say hello

bella : fuck you

paige : the hell did i do?

bella : fuck you! i literally saw you making out with someone, you even had the balls to look me in the eyes while doing that

paige : you saw that?

bella : i hate you, never talk to me again you dumb shit

paige : but we aint in a relationship tho?

bella : yeah okay, what did i expect from a person like you! all pussies and cunts huh? all that ya'll care for!

paige : damn okay

you have blocked this person

you leaned up fixing your posture and she pulled her phone back

"woah" you raised your eyebrows in disbelief, you really cant believe it

paige was somehow, the type who would text you alot more opposite than the one you just saw infront of your eyes, its so bad to the point you wanted to believe its fake.

paige : hey, saw you at the court today you looked lost, sorry i didn't get to help you geno was literally screaming at my face, did you find your way

reader : hey! its all good, thanks for the thought

paige : no worries, i really wanted to approach you earlier.

reader: noo its fine really

paige : im glad, just tell me if you need anything, will help.

but you know, you really cant judge because your just few weeks here.

. . .

SERIES MASTERLIST .

[sugar-grigri]

CSM 194 : How Asa sacrificed herself to counter Yoru and save Denji

From Asa's point of view, sharing her mind and body with Yoru is dangerous.

Yoru can turn what belongs to her into a weapon, and it's clear that in these final chapters, unlike at the start of part 2, Asa is the one who appears, but no longer the one who manages daily life (taking part in conversations, eating, sleeping) and, above all, who makes decisions.

This is interference, and Yoru can very well turn Asa's body into a weapon. Semantics are also important: personality. This further blurs the barrier between Yoru and Asa.

I think Asa realized that the more she gave in to Yoru, the more she lost control. When she had wanted to oppose her, Yoru had been offended that she was "afraid" of her or didn't trust her. But : there's nothing more normal than being afraid of a devil.

Asa and Yoru may share their feelings and their bodies, but that doesn't change the fact that they don't share their nature. Yoru is a devil.

Asa has become attached to Yoru, and I think that Yoru loves Asa not in a human sense, but in a purely organic, egocentric way: she's her.

Especially when Asa decides to trust Yoru, Yoru betrays her trust

She even monopolizes Asa's story

When in reality: NO, Asa is not Yoru. Yoru is a parasite who considers her body her own, but that doesn't mean she's the same entity as the invaded body and mind.

If there's one thing that shocks fans, it's the way Yoru steals Asa's first experiences: her first kiss, her """first intimate act""", in a violent way.

When Nayuta says thief, it's not necessarily to be understood as the replica of a possessive little sister, it has a double meaning: Yoru steals Denji from Asa, or rather she steals her own life from her since she steals her experiences.

For the sake of a better union, Asa has accepted this "merger", and it's been "productive".

But she now sees the downside, whether it's Yoru haggling with her body, which is a first split because Asa surely doesn't want to haggle her first time around.

Second split: turning Denji into a weapon. Asa wants to save him at all costs.

The way to save Denji lies precisely in disunity. And I imagine that what Asa would like to do / or at least could do is accentuate the differences. She can't do it through feelings, because Yoru and Asa feel the same. But she can do it through actions and, above all, through the perception of others.

This is a theory, but Asa is someone who has good ideas and who has been able to "turn" a power against a devil several times or who has used Yoru's power in an ingenious way.

So :

Basic rule: Yoru can turn anything she thinks belongs to her into a weapon. The devil of war has indeed drawn close to Denji, which allows her to reinforce this feeling of possession. This is also how Asa feels, since she shares the same feeling as Yoru.

But if she creates distance between herself and Denji, creates animosity in order to fuel a feeling of danger on his part that would push him to back off to protect himself (because he already senses danger, hence his questions to Pochita), Denji no longer belongs to the devil of war

But remember, one can't hide anything from the other, so Asa can't think of a plan

However, she can use what she has observed, how did Yoru manage to surprise her? Through her impulsiveness. Through the Bang. All she did was wait to trigger that sudden instinct to oppose Yoru. And how can she prevent Yoru from regaining control? By scaring herself. Fear is what drives them apart.

Asa did not fight against the interference, she used it: the more Yoru took control, the less she mistrusted, the more she became attached to Denji, the more painful the rejection will be and the more effective the disunity will be. Her absence is her weapon. As well as its loneliness.

Bucky is the symbol of this rejection, but also the key to it. When Asa sees all these chickens again, it is also because she is once more truly alone in her dreams, in her unconsciousness. Running for her is a positive symbol for her character. Yuko and Denji are two beacons of hope, and the fact that she runs is a sign of her emancipation. When she runs in her dreams, she breaks free from Yoru.

Her fears, whether it be the perception of others and rejection, which distanced her from others, from people, from humanity. From now on, this is her best means of rediscovering her humanity. By cutting herself off from the one who had given her back her hope in others.

[dizzyditzblitz]

' Invited ' | Chp. 2

Shadow Milk x Fem!Reader (please understand from here on out i dont proofread 😭 i literally just write all of this in one go)

went a very different direction because I'm finishing this after the sage of truth costume came out and it makes me emotional

fluffy angst

After the kingdom found out, although it was painfully obvious, Shadow Milk was here, the cookies staying at Y/N's castle had become restless.

There was this Beast Cookie in their kingdom. Near their homes. Especially after the damage Shadow Milk did to Y/N and not to mention Pure Vanilla? Why was he here? Was he here to crumble the queen?

Pure Vanilla had also found out, although he found out via the fact he ran into Y/N walking with Shadow Milk throughout the town.

His heart dropped, but he attempted to recollect himself. Pure Vanilla beelined, his steps light. It didn't take long for him to finally catch up to Y/N and Shadow Milk,

" Y/N Cookie! " Vanilla chirped out, masking his deep concern with a smile,

Shadow Milk was the first to look over, Y/N following suit. Y/N stared at Pure Vanilla, trying to equally play it cool,

" Hey, " Y/N responded, clearly nervous about what Pure Vanilla was to say,

" Might I ask what you have there? " Vanilla implored,

Y/N glanced at Shadow Milk before averted her eyes elsewhere,

" I just want to talk to him, " She finally murmured,

Pure Vanilla blinked, his eyes finally opening to stare at the two. His other half holding hand-in-hand with Y/N. It wasn't jealousy in his heart— it was fear.

Pure Vanilla's hand had been gripping his staff, clearly on edge. Yet when Y/N finally looked at Pure Vanilla, Vanilla softened just a smidge. His mind kept asking why, but he wanted to trust Y/N. And he did; but his distrust for Shadow Milk was far greater..

Yet, Shadow Milk himself had actually been quiet during their whole conversation. It was a rare moment. Shadow Milk still felt Y/N's trembles whilst they held hands; he also felt Pure Vanilla's eyes burn right through him.

Shadow Milk's expression was unreadable, but he was growing furious. Why was he feeling so small? How dare Pure Vanilla crumble him with just a glare? And why was his heart hurting? Shadow Milk knew the pricks of pain in his heart, but he refused to acknowledge it.

All of their minds were ticking, like a three-way draw. Y/N finally broke the silence with a soft sigh,

" I'll be okay, " She finally reassured Pure Vanilla, her tone quiet yet convicted,

Pure Vanilla frowned a bit but relented gently,

" Alright.. " He sighed, giving Y/N a slightly forced smile,

" And— " Y/N abruptly started, seeming sheepish, " Can- can you try and soothe the town? Please? " She begged, " You're really good at that.. " She mumbled in a pout,

Pure Vanilla couldn't help but laugh a little at her pout. 'What a mess she is' he thought to himself,

" Of course, " He assured,

" Thank you, " She smiled gently, watching Vanilla turn with a wave.

Y/N let out a heavy sigh, now looking at Shadow Milk. Apparently, he had been brewing silently in his own mental turmoil throughout the majority of that conversation.

" Shadow Milk..? " Y/N hesitantly called out,

Shadow Milk's eyes widened a bit before snapping over to Y/N's eyes. It was unnerving how quick and wide-eyed he was..

But when he finally returned to reality, surprisingly, he softened. Shadow Milk stared at Y/N. Both looked tired.. especially emotionally. He looked down, realizing she still had his hand. He had to fight the urge to give Y/N's hand a squeeze..

The silence continued, and Y/N kept returning the shared stare. And she noticed something. She noticed vulnerability. A grief that eroded a once warm and happy heart.

The weight of what she noticed in Shadow Milk's eyes finally cracked her. Y/N's hand squeezed his hand as if she was trying to convey a planetary weight of emotions. She broke down, her tears pouring and sobs of everything hitting her all at once..

Shadow Milk jumped a bit at the sudden grip and her tearful display. He usually would mock tears, relish in the dramatic display, and laugh. But his thoughts were interrupted by an unfamiliar drip of his own tears,

He felt his breath hitch, staring at Y/N having a breakdown. Hesitating for a few moments.. Shadow Milk caved and pulled Y/N into a hug.

It was strange. It was bizarre. Especially since Y/N clung to him and returned the hug. Her and Shadow Milk wept in unison, both holding onto one as if in fear the other would vanish.

It was exposure therapy to Y/N but also therapy all around to Shadow Milk and Y/N,

Shadow Milk's knees finally gave out, falling down onto his rear, taking Y/N with him. He essentially kept her snugged close in between his knees, like a big plush toy, his tears not letting up; his frilled collar even seemed to droop a bit due to the tears,

Y/N's hands had clawed and balled up fists of fabric from his clothes, her own tears slowly letting up. Her breathing hitched rapidly with each breath. Slowly, she adjusted her head and rested her chin on his shoulder..

Y/N leaned her head against his, her eyes closing as she felt herself tear up again, listening to Shadow Milk cry.. feeling his entire frame tremor.. She let out a heavy and shaky sigh..

" I never wanted to be like this.. " Shadow Milk finally started, his voice very unsteady,

Y/N gave a confused frown, gently pulling back to look at Shadow Milk, his hair disarray and tears never-ending,

" I didn't want to hurt other cookies.. I never asked for the responsibility! " He exclaimed, his voice cracking,

Y/N jumped a little at the display. This was so far, so-so-so far from the Shadow Milk whose ego was bustling like the sun. This was a cookie. A cookie's life who was robbed from them..

Y/N couldn't help but softly cry again, instinctively cupping his face,

Shadow Milk flinched, pulling away, wide-eyed and deeply suspicious. But when he saw her sincerity, Shadow Milk couldn't help but sob again and slowly lay his head in her hands,

" I—I wanted to say..to say yes.. " He mumbled through tears, " To— to be friends... " He finally admitted, strained,

Y/N listened to him vent, feeling his head in her hands and her thumbs brushing away his tears,

" I'm so tired... of being alone... watching everyone from afar.. " He whispered, slowly falling silent again as his tears slowly slowed down..

Shadow Milk lifted his head to look at Y/N, his own sniffles and hitched breaths filling the silence.

Y/N stared up at him, but she was met with Shadow Milk leaning down and bumping his forehead with her own, gently.

Shadow Milk and Y/N found their heads on the other's shoulder, their heads leaning against one another,

" ...I'm sorry I hurt you... " He whispered, his voice only loud enough for her to hear, " and your friends.. " Shadow Milk mumbled,

Y/N's gave a small noise, signaling she heard him whilst her arms slowly went around and began to hug Shadow Milk again,

" It's not okay.. " She started, which prompted a shift of discomfort from Shadow Milk,

" But I don't hate you... " Y/N concluded, hiding her face in his shoulder, " I can't bring myself to hate someone who just wanted company... " She hushed,

Shadow Milk softened in relief. It was his turn to listen and listen he did,

" Your actions were awful.. " Y/N continued, slowly pulling from the hug and sitting back on her calves and knees, " I'm not happy you hurt my friends and myself.. " She continued,

Shadow Milk gave a small nod, understanding the vast depths of his actions. The games. The lies. The toying with essentially everyone and everything. He became a little more saddened, jumping to the conclusion he would be shunned away,

" But I believe everyone can have a path to redemption.. " Y/N added, her voice now soft after the tears finally left,

This response prompted a look of surprise from Shadow Milk, staring at her to look for any deceit.. yet he saw none..

Shadow Milk lifted his own hand and began to gently cup one of Y/N's cheek. He stared at her, the silence slowly swelling again,

Y/N softened further, now leaning her own head into his palm,

" It's going to take some time to repair things.. but I wanna try.. " She confessed,

Shadow Milk gave a nod, pulling Y/N back into a hug, practically engulfing her. The hug seemed to last a while... the atmosphere slowly easing off weight..

[amethystfairy1]

Sorry to continue adding to the backlog of asks but I wanted to inform you of last nights dream because you do not understand the amount I am affected by your tippy taps--

So we're in TTSBC, which I know exclusively because my brain said, "Oh hey, it's ttsbc!Tango!" At the start of the dream. He's, for some reason, currently topside, although it is dead night. We're in a car dealership. All of a sudden, Tango locks eyes with some random person who's vaguely wearing blue (the whole rest of the dream is in third person as a spectator except for this moment, where I'm Tango and lock eyes with this guy-- by which i mean our faces are 2 inches apart and we're staring each other down for all of 0.5 seconds-- and then I spawn in as a seperate character next to Tango). Tango looks at me and him and I start booking it down the car-dealership now turned parking garage (which is how ik it's night, it's one of those multi-story garages and the level opens to the sky and it's a deep midnight blue outside). We're running and absolutely leaving the guy in the DUST, but then he starts catching up. Dreams. Good news, Tango, apperently is a really good pickpocket because he stole BMW keys at some point! So we get in the BMW and drive the heck away. (I know nothing about cars, but upon googling, the car looked most like a BMW XM. This is irrelevant, but I remember it too well not to share. Why is it a BMW? No idea. I don't drive one, I don't think about them ever, and I only know it's a BMW because the letters BMW were plastered on the front)

We speed away like crazy in the same direction we were going (this parking garage is like over 50 miles long atp honestly) until the car breaks down, at which point we get out, completely casually as though nothing just happened, and I wake up, roll over, see it's only 5 am and I can sleep for another hour, and clonk back out, but not before vaguely going "huh. Didn't know Tango knew how to drive a BMW" which committed the dream to memory.

Fun fact about me: I very rarely remember my dreams. At all. Let alone in the VIVID detail I remember this. Now I'm wondering how many such dreams I've had about these characters loll. I know I had one involving Ren in some capacity at some point, but that's it.

Anyway, I think I got a prophetic dream about there being a Tango-based chapter today. I'm just that in tune with the world apperently loll.

I have provided reference photos of the dream. Basically:

Except imagine Tango looking sly asf holding car keys and being visible through the windshield in every shot

(Just now realizing it also involved cars, I'm so good at this /j)

Anyway, thank you for providing me with entertainment both while conscious and not apperently! I was going to send this ask when I got home from school, but the new chapter took full priority, and I forgot about it until my mother asked for her car keys back just now, so here we are!

Wait this is SO FUNNY!

HOW DID TTSBC!TANGO KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!? THEY DON'T HAVE CARS IN THE UNDER-CITY! OH MY STARS!

I'm so glad my tippy taps have so deeply wormed their way into your brain 😅

[lakesparkles]

I finally finished the first chapter - I'm calling it prologue - of my college AU Thanos Team fanfiction.

For now, I'll post it here under the cut:

Prologue

.

.

.

Gyeong-su is sure he can change Nam-gyu's life

—

(NOTE: the first thing I want to do is apologize about Nam-gyu because he’s an asshole in this chapter)

 The room was still dark and Nam-gyu wasn't sure why he’d woken up. He mumbled softly, trying to go back to sleep and failing... For some reason. His mind was too groggy to think of anything in that situation.

 Only after a few seconds did he realize his cell phone was ringing, the music irritating his hearing and immediately stressing him out.

 "What is it!?" He complained in a slurred voice, as if the device could answer him. At the same time, he slammed his hand against the cabinet next to his bed, where he remembered leaving his cell phone charging. He needed to wait for his eyes to get used to the light so he could read the name on the screen:

 "Mom," was all it said.

 So he ignored it, suddenly more alert. Why would she even...?

 No. He wouldn't even think about it. It was way too early for that.

 When the phone went silent again, Nam-gyu closed his eyes and rolled over in bed, covering his head so he could fall asleep faster. Fuck it, he still had a few hours of sleep left, he wasn't going to lose them because of something like that.

 Or, apparently, he was wrong.

 Not even three minutes had passed when his ears picked up another noise. This time, coming from the bedroom door. Three quick knocks and then:

 "Nam-gyu. Nam-gyu? Can I come in? I'm going in, okay?"

 No sooner said than done, his door was opened completely. Nam-gyu growled, removing the blanket and sitting on the bed:

"What the hell... What time is it?" He asked, still reluctant and barely able to open his eyes due to the sudden light.

 "Uh... 5:15 am?" Gyeong-su asked more than answered, walking towards his bed.

Without saying a word, Nam-gyu laid down for the second time. But of course his friend didn't accept that, pulling his arm and continuing: 

 "No, no way! You agreed to this yesterday!"

 "I didn't-"

 "Of course you did! It was last night, man! There's no way you don't remember, get up!"

 "Today's Sunday!"

 "That's exactly why!"

 "Fuck you!"

That didn't work and, when he realized, Gyeong-su had already pulled him out of bed and placed him standing next to himself. The little shit was now smiling proudly, his hands resting on his waist:

 "I programmed an entire map for our route today. You'll like it, believe me! Did you know there's a forest behind that pharmacy? The one right behind the-"

 Nam-gyu got tired of hearing it, going straight out of the room. At least this time, Gyeong-su got the message and shut up, just following him down the narrow hallway. It was the least he could do, considering he was dragging Nam-gyu for a "morning walk" (he had called it that, not Nam-gyu).

 He walked straight to the bathroom, pausing at the door for just a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement in front of him: it was almost imperceptible, but he was sure it was Se-mi entering her own room, slamming the door shut. This irritated him, to say the least. Nam-gyu took a step back, getting closer to his friend:

 "Why did this bitch come to live here if she doesn't even have an ounce of manners?"

 "Hey, it's not nice to call-"

 "Shut up. Have you even talked to her? Does she ever leave her room?"

 "I thought you'd think that was a good thing," Gyeong-su shrugged, "so you don't have to look at her face."

 "Clever," Nam-gyu gave a rare compliment, closing the door behind him. As he went to the bathroom and returned to his room to change, he kept thinking about Se-mi.

 He and Gyeong-su had rented the apartment two months ago, which meant that neither of them really got used to it yet. Nam-gyu had known the other for years, but he wouldn't describe him as a close friend. It just so happened that they both needed to share a rent, and even then, they realized that their money wouldn't be enough anyway.

 In order to avoid having to move into a tiny, one-room place, they sacrificed one of the bedrooms in their current apartment and tried their luck. He would never imagine that a woman would offer to split the cost of the bills, but Se-mi was apparently desperate.

 Maybe. Nam-gyu knew very little about her.

 They went to the same university, were close in age, and that was where his knowledge about the woman ended. Se-mi didn't talk much, staying locked in her room during the rare moments she was home. It didn't take a genius to guess that this would never work out. He was surprised she hadn't given up since the beginning of the two weeks she'd been there.

 Yeah.

 Nam-gyu shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn't even care that much about the bitch in the first place. She was a total jerk, that's what.

 So he focused on the closet in front of him, choosing a random black T-shirt and pulling it over his head. Once he was dressed, he fixed his hair with his hands and tucked a few strands behind his ears.

 Then he crossed the hallway for good, heading for the kitchen. As if on autopilot, he opened the door of the fridge and picked up a bottle of whiskey. His throat was dry, but before he could unscrew the cap, the bottle was taken from his hands.

 "Hey!" He exclaimed.

 "No, no, no!' Gyeong-su held it up high so he couldn't reach it, even though the other was struggling beside him. He hadn't even noticed him approaching. "You made me promise not to let you drink it for breakfast!"

 "I never said that!"

 "Yes, you did. Nam-gyu, it was last night!"

 "If I don't remember, it's clearly not what I really wanted."

 "You were in a really bad state, man. Cold sweat and everything. You looked me in the eyes and said, 'I can't live like this anymore, Gyeong-su, you need to change my life,' and that's what we're going to start doing from today!" He told everything with dramatic gestures, which indicated that that wasn't really what had truly happened.

 For some reason unknown even to him, Nam-gyu gave up.

"I promise" Gyeong-su ran after him after putting away the whiskey and grabbing a bottle of water in its place. "I will change your life!"

For both their sakes, Nam-gyu kept his opinion to himself.

---

 "Oh wait, man, I forgot my watch!"

 "Can't you just go without it?" As soon as Nam-gyu finished his sentence, Gyeong-su had already run into the apartment once again.

 They hadn't even been out for 30 seconds.

 With a sigh, he leaned against the wall, taking advantage of the free time to light a cigarette and place it between his lips. His vision was a little blurry as he looked through the small window on the other side of the hallway. It was a simple view, just a tree branch moving with the wind. Maybe it was slightly colder outside.

 Whatever. His head hurt, it felt like it was about to explode.

 Had he really talked about all that with Gyeong-su last night?

 He tried his best to clear his memories, but all he remembered was the two of them sitting on the couch. It didn't seem like a serious conversation, his mouth even hurt from laughing so much at that time. Was Se-mi there? Somehow, she was there. Maybe to tell them to shut up. Or... Did she stay longer? Did she talk to both of them? No, it couldn't be. Se-mi had never acted like that before.

 He was probably making a funny face as he tried to remember. When he came back to reality, he realized that someone was staring at him.

 "What is it?" Nam-gyu asked, raising his chin, trying to look intimidating even though he wasn't very successful.

 The boy in front of him straightened his posture as if he’d been startled.

He never saw him there before. He was short and wore a navy blue sweater. If that wasn't enough, he had a kind of pathetic look, as if he was about to faint.

 Nam-gyu just took a drag on his cigarette, pretending to ignore him.

 "Eh..." The other man spoke in a low voice, however, after a few seconds. "Do you know where apartment 75 is?"

 "No," Nam-gyu replied with a small smile.

 "Do you live here? In the building, I mean. It's just that I'm new and I forgot..."

 "Did you forget where your own apartment is? Seriously?"

 "I've never been here in person, this is the first day I've..."

 With each passing second, Nam-gyu found it more amusing, without even trying to hide it. As soon as he pushed himself off the wall, he pointed to the number on the door right next to him: 75.

 "Have you thought about taking a vision test? " He asked the boy, still in a good mood.

 The other didn't share the same feeling, mumbling an apology under his breath and unlocking the apartment to go in. Why had he even apologized to him?

 Weird guy.

 He'd been distracted by that for so long that only then did he notice how Gyeong-su hadn't come back yet. Nam-gyu peeked inside his own dark apartment, part of him barely able to resist the urge to just run away and come back there only at night, when his friend already forgot all that nonsense.

 He regretted not having followed through with the plan as soon as Gyeong-su appeared in his sight, straightening the watch on his wrist and letting out an exclamation:

 "Hey, no, no!" He wasted no time in trying to take the cigarette from Nam-gyu's hand. "That counts too, you made me promise not to let you smoke in the morning as well!"

 Nam-gyu elbowed him lightly, making it clear how he didn't care. So much so that he soon changed the subject:

 "What took you so long? Were you chatting with the bitch?"

 Gyeong-su gave him a reprimanding look as soon as the two began walking down the hallway. With that alone, Nam-gyu knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

 "She’d just woken up," Gyeong-su admitted. "She wanted to know how the TV remote worked, can you believe it?"

 "So she talks to you," Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised and a little betrayed. Gyeong-su didn't say a word, just sighed. The two reached the top of the stairs at the end of the hallway, Nam-gyu taking the lead to go down two steps at a time. Now that he wasn't facing the other, it was easier to ignore the discomfort and finally ask:

 "I talked to her yesterday too, didn't I?"

 "You really don't remember anything?" Gyeong-su followed closely behind him, dragging his entire arm along the railing.

 "I remember some things," Nam-guy raised his chin, half telling the truth, half lying. "We laughed for a long time."

 "Yeah! Because of you, man!"

 "Oh yeah..?"

 The two finished the two flights of stairs, arriving at the first floor. Gyeong-su was distracted for a few seconds, checking if there was any new mail for their apartment and realizing that the mailbox was empty. Shrugging, he walked back to Nam-gyu's side so they could leave the building. "You told me a lot of things! Like that time a guy at the club almost got you fired because he mistook you for someone else."

 "I told Se-mi that!?" This time, he didn't even think to hide his shock. Gyeong-su found it all very funny. He put his hand in front of his mouth to laugh lightly.

 Wait.

 "You're making it all up! That's it, isn't it?" Nam-gyu started to get suspicious, hating how he felt slightly embarrassed now.

 "Of course not! All of this happened for real, you can ask Se-mi."

 Then Nam-gyu realized it was better to concentrate on his cigarette, walking quickly and straightening his hair once more. The actual best thing would be to stop thinking about it. Either way, he knew he wouldn't be able to remember everything. So who cared?

 He looked around, trying to distract himself. There were only trees, buildings and houses, nothing too impressive. The wind blew hard against the branches. It wasn't necessarily cold, but he was starting to regret not having put on a coat. Maybe he should go back and get one, it wasn't like he was that far from the apartment. And he always felt more comfortable when he wore long coats, in the first place. Not that he has any insecurities about his arms, of course. And he would never feel comfortable having a conversation like that with someone he barely knew, especially with... Her.

 God, he was really bad at that.

 Why couldn't he stop thinking about that bitch?

 He let out a loud groan, making Gyeong-su jump in fright:

 "What the fuck are we doing out here!?" He spoke louder than he should've, letting out all the frustrations he was feeling since he woke up.

 Gyeong-su stared at him at first, with his eyebrows raised and his eyes slightly wide. He received that same look countless times before, and Nam-gyu didn't appreciate it. He knew it was his friend's silent way of saying he was worried about him. As if Nam-gyu were just a lost puppy.

 "I already told you," Gyeong-su began, in that slow and serious tone, speaking as if Nam-gyu was too dumb to understand simple sentences. "You told us some stories and then out of nowhere you complained about how shitty your life is."

 "I didn't do that."

 "Nam-gyu! Same thing again? You did! You spent like two minutes straight just talking about how the lowest point was having to share an apartment with people like us. We were pissed! You belittled my work-"

 "Rightly so. What work?" Nam-gyu rolled his eyes.

 "Hey! And Se-mi too, especially her. You said that she only didn't have a decent life because she was a disgusting prostitute who wasn't even good enough to get clients to rent a small studio apartment."

 "Okay, I believe that part."

 Gyeong-su rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly:

 "Why are you like that with her? Only with her? Did she do something to you?"

 "Yes," no.

 "What?"

Nam-gyu didn't feel like answering, so he didn't.

---

Nam-gyu had no idea what he was expecting. He felt like an idiot once he realized that part of him almost wished Gyeong-su was right. That they would leave the apartment, walk around and something would suddenly change. He woke up with that weird weight on his chest, and that made it hard to concentrate on anything else. His head was also throbbing and he would occasionally sip from the bottle of water that Gyeong-su carried in the side pocket of his backpack. Both of those things, however, could easily be explained by the hangover. He was more used to waking up like that than not, that almost becoming his usual.

 But the weird feeling on his chest? That was rarer. Or at least it used to be. Until he moved to this apartment. However, once again, he was starting to get used to it.

 Shit. He shook his head and looked up. Then at Gyeong-su.

 "Look, look!" His friend skipped ahead of him and pointed down the ravine they were walking on at that moment. "You can see our building from here!'

  "Wow." Nam-gyu said sarcastically.

 Gyeong-su lowered his head, still smiling a little:

 "Can you at least pretend to be having a little fun? I'm feeling a little bad now."

 Nam-gyu opened his mouth, ready to give any answer that would make him shut up again. Why he didn't, was a mystery even to him. For a second, he sighed softly. Maybe it was because of the isolated environment, far from anyone else who could hear him. Maybe it was because, besides Gyeong-su, he had no one else to comment on that matter.

All he knew was that the words that came out of his mouth were:

 "My mother called me this morning."

 Gyeong-su's entire posture changed. He lowered his shoulders, becoming more serious despite grunting an "uhhhh", waving one of his hands in the air.

 As Nam-gyu already said, he and Gyeong-su had never been very close. They barely knew about each other's personal tastes or how they lived before that shared house. All Nam-gyu knew about his new friend was about the stupid games he played live for a bunch of idiots who donated money to him. And all Gyeong-su knew about him, apparently, was about his mother.

 "What the hell, man," He tried to comfort Nam-gyu, placing his free hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it...?"

 "With you? Obviously not!" Then Nam-gyu returned to his normal behavior, rolling his eyes. He was almost offended that the other even considered that possibility.

 To keep the uncomfortable conversation from going on, he started walking again. The entire path in front of him consisted of the same thing: trees. He only knew where to go because of the thin, straight path beneath his feet, probably formed by the amount of people who preferred to take shortcuts there rather than walk through the buildings and convenience stores.

 The sun escaped through the yellow leaves, and now it was less cold, fortunately. He felt slightly more at ease, until Gyeong-su took the lead with quick steps and went back to narrating everything he saw, pointing out every useless detail like a tour guide.

 Nam-gyu raised his eyebrows, pleased that the other ignored the previous subject so easily.

 "I'm just waiting for the moment when you 'change my life'" Nam-gyu let himself laugh a little at the situation.

 "Calm down," The other said with a confidence disproportionate to reality. "You need to be a little more patient."

(NOTE: This chapter was basically nothing, this is why I'm calling it "prologue". It'll only make more sense once there are more chapters, the sole reason for all these scenes was to introduce Nam-gyu's life. And because I think it's funny to note how grumpy and different he is when he's with anybody else other than Thanos)

[ashton-ryder]

He doesn't respond back to her mockery of defiance, he didn't get a chance to when a kick straight into his chest stung and amplified the heartache. He wheezed as his rib and lungs (and heart) felt it. He could've grabbed her leg, pull her down, subdue her and break that knee properly this time and actually claim responsibility for it. But where does that leave him? Dead probably. Whether at her hands or Jeremiah's.

Jeremiah, he didn't want to think about him now, not when Sada kept trying to force in images of the two of them happily living their tyrannical lives. But how can he not think about him when ultimately it still brought him mixed, confusing, jumbled emotions of comfort? It hurt more hearing this with a clear mind but it also gave him enough confidence to trust in the truths he knew, in the truths shared between them and them only. He was the one with him when he was weary and needed the calm and rest, he was the one there in moments of family, of joy, of vulnerability, of peace. But he didn't need to prove anything between them to Sada. Because all he's hearing of her gloating sounded more problematic than anything else.

All this time it's always been about choosing her, worshipping her, pleasuring her, loving her. An anger simmered at the way she talked about treating him, and what about him? What about choosing him, worshipping him, pleasuring him, loving him? Ashton wasn't sure if he could give Jer everything he needed, but at least he was confident enough to give him that much, more than she could, being so self absorbed. Despite the strong font he tried to shakily hold up, he turned his face down to the floor, "stop.." not wanting to hear more, hiding the wet blues that threatened to spill over at the pangs of pain beating through his chest that didn't stem for the swift kick.

He stayed there like a rag doll until Sada yanked him by his hair, roots tearing at his scalp, making his deep watery gaze face hers. Ashton had paused a long while before a soft, heartbroken smile flickered to mock her, "..no he's not," he was nothing like her, "and I love him." What’s the point in hiding it if she’s already figured it out? At the very least that truth will ring in her ears, spoken into existence that hasn't wavered.

Tossed aside, his arms broke the fall, not expecting her to end her session so quickly this time. That's all? He wanted to taunt her, but just as he pushed himself back up, he was grappled again, this time with enough fight in him to resist their holds. "The fuck is that?" Ashton was a smart man, smart enough seeing the vaccine now in a syringe and a dubious vial delicately toying by her fingers. There were only so many scenarios he was going to need a vaccine and it wasn't going to be her kind hearted soul to do the right thing.

Ashton's realization settled on one possibility and he immediately fought back against the two men, he still had mobility to swiftly get out of their holds, managing a few blows at them until the chains were immediately yanked back to hold him down, he gagged at the sudden choking pressure from the cuff pressed against his throat and trachea, arms outstretched with no more wiggle room to even move an inch. "N- no--" please don't do this, he didn't let it show but the fear was creeping in, he did not want to become one of those things.

She stumbled as the support of the cane was torn away, eyes following as it flew across the space, hitting a wall and clattering to the floor. "Do you feel better now? Did you let it all out?" Speaking through a mocking sort of pout down at him,

Sada instead gave a nice little swift kick to the side, hissing through the sting in her knee, but the joint held firm. "I don't need it to beat you with, in fact, I like this even better." That satisfying thwack of limb to torso contact nearly as good as good deep stroke, and she shuddered through it.

"You don't want to know? You don't want to know how I make him beg for me? How he loves me." The emphasis was obvious and meant to be painful. "You know that he's king here, right? Leads at my side, because he chooses to. I don't force him to stay with me, Ashton. He chooses me, and he'll always choose me. You know why?"

Reaching down for a handful of his hair so she could yank his gaze up to her as she looked at him with a gaze as cold as ice. "Because he's just like me." She knew the implications that would carry to the paranoia she'd long instilled in this man over the years of playing with him. Leaning forward, she whispered her words almost affectionately into his ear.

"You're so fucking stupid. So fucking gullible." The words slipped from her tongue with silken satisfaction as she sprinkled doubt so liberally over what this man had with her lover.

Roughly pulling his hair to the side as she more or less tossed him, Sada stood back up and gave a little stretch. "I think maybe it's time." Striding to the door, she gave three hard knocks and waited for James and Hector to appear in the doorway, nodding at them to go and hold Ashton down. While she made her way to the little table to set up the syringe of vaccine, turning back to him with the small vial of merlot coloured fluid.

"I hope you're thirsty, Ashton."

[wingsofthesun]

Instead of Shepard dragging Garrus around everywhere in ME1 because she wants to take him under her wing and teach him, I think it'd be a lot funnier if she drags him around everywhere because he comes pre-trained.

I mean, think about it. By the end of the first visit to the Citadel, besides Ashley and Kaidan (who are full members of the Alliance military), she has/is heading to recruit the following:

Wrex, a krogan mercenary who definitely doesn't have a file and who later admits mainly works alone and/or in very small groups, and has definitely not been part of any formal military structure or anything even remotely similar

Tali, who is a very wonderful person and very knowledgeable about the geth, but is only ~22 (her birth year is 2161 apparently), is on her people's rite of passage, and has never been formally attached to any kind of command nor has had any formal training as far as we know

Matriarch Benezia's daughter, Liara, who they know very little about at the moment other than she's an archaeologist who specializes in the Protheans and has never had any commando training, nor do they know if she even knows anything about her mother's actions

I love them, but they're not exactly on the level someone that's been part of a military for years would be.

By contrast, you have:

Garrus, who's not that much younger than Shepard herself, was part of the turian military for a few years (and had at least one ship posting from what we know from 2), and has also been part of C-Sec for awhile given he's a full fledged detective, so he's used to working in teams and being under someone's command

I feel like Shepard would have taken a look at his file and breathed a sigh of relief because there's at least one person that she won't have to worry will accidentally undermine her authority. He even comes with amazing sniping skills and tech expertise! Of course she's going to drag him around everywhere!

[rafesweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt’s tired of sharing.

Warning: Smut, p n v, dom Matt, cockwarming. Obsessive Matt.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Could you shut the fuck up and stop hogging my girlfriend?” The words had spit from his mouth as he dragged you back to his room. You hadn’t realized how much you had neglected him, not until now. 

His cock fucked into you relentlessly. The scowl on his face had only deepened as he grabbed your shoulder, pushing you down to meet his aggressive thrusts with an obsessive intent. “Fuckin’--ignoring me all day, sweetheart. What’s up with that? Hm?” 

Only shrieks and gasps of air escape your mouth. He’s so deep. There’s nothing you can do except try to grasp into his arms, clawing into his biceps as you try to hold off your release. You had already begged and pleaded. The answer was no. You weren’t cumming until he said so. It wasn’t because he wanted to torture you. The reasoning behind his hard dick pummeling into you at an ungodly speed was actually pretty simple—he just didn’t want it to end. 

“Matt—I—-I—” There’s a dry laugh that rumbles through his chest as he pushes himself as deep as possible, focusing on hitting the one spot so far inside of you that makes your nails dig further into his arm. He was finally satisfied. All day, he had gotten more and more frustrated watching you wander off, dropping his hand, talking more to his brothers than him. Not now though. Now he had you all to himself. 

“Yeah?” He slows down the pace of his hips, concentrating on digging his pelvis into yours. “I would’ve let you cum already, but you just had to ignore me, huh?” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself anymore. The once languid drive of his cock falling into the same merciless pace as before. “My fuckin’ girl—supposed to hold my goddamn hand—fuck, fuck, fuck,” he seethes. “Cum with me, cum all over me, sweetheart.” 

Your sticky walls soak him in a tight grasp, clenching onto his cock as you finally let out a scream, letting the euphoria buzz louder in your ears as hot bliss washes over each muscle in your body. “My girl, that’s right—cum all over my dick…yeah, fuck,” he strains. You feel the warmth of his cum leak into you, trickling down as he comes to a slow stop. 

The sudden guilt washes over you as he pushes his cock back inside of you, kissing along your neck as he lowers some of his weight. “--’m sorry, I….I didn’t mean to drop your hand and everything today, I just got so—”

“Hey,” he cradles your head, “--’s okay. I get you all to myself right now, right?” You whine feeling him grind his hips into yours. “Just keep my dick nice and warm, alright sweetheart? Gotta be close to my girl—my pretty fuckin’ girl,” he husks, his breath fanning across your neck as he litters small kisses on your hot skin. 

“I don’t even care,” he explains, rubbing his hand along your waist, “---don’t even care when I get to have you like this.” 

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[aegonstradwife]

exposure therapy | aemond targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aemond were recently married. you're afraid of him, but aemond goes to great lengths to show you he's not that scary.

warnings: excessive use of ellipses, #1 wife lover aemond targaryen, brief mention of childhood trauma, smut. (fingering, face riding, oral.)

a. note:link to the original request.

As Aemond's new wife, it's surprising how little time you spend together. The servants whisper about it around every corner; how you skulk through the halls hoping to avoid him, how nearly every meal you take is apart from each other.

But there's a very good reason for this, one that you've never admitted to anyone.

You are terrified of him.

Even at night, you might share the same bed, but it's big enough that you can sleep soundly without ever once touching him. Although even that was difficult at first; those first few nights you dreaded climbing into bed with him and got nearly no sleep at all.

He is so much bigger, and much stronger, than you. He really could do anything he wanted to you and you would have no chance of fighting him off.

Eventually, however, Aemond's still body beside yours throughout the night, you realized he either wouldn't, or didn't want to, touch you. And finally you were able to get some sleep.

But now, though sleep comes much more easily and your nights are no longer fraught with peril at the thought of him forcing himself upon you, it still doesn't mean you have any desire to be around him.

And you thought he felt much the same. Until tonight.

Aemond is already comfortable on the settee by the window, reading, when you retire to your shared bedchamber for the night.

Hells bent as usual on ignoring him, you busy yourself with removing your shoes in front of the wardrobe.

"Come. Sit with me."

In the quiet of the room, Aemond's sudden, uncharacteristic, voice makes you jump, going very still. His tone is soft; now that you think on it, you've heard Aemond's voice very few times, either before or after you were married.

In your mind, the few times you had heard him speak, you remember him sounding like a complete barbarian. Not this lilting, almost melodic, softness....

Straightening, you nervously smooth the skirts of your dress down over your thighs. Aemond's silhouette is stark against the candles guttering on the windowsill.

You gulp, starting to tiptoe toward him, but stopping at the opposite arm of the settee. "Do I have to?" You ask quietly, and even that takes every ounce of courage in your weary body.

This is probably as close as you've ever been to him when not in bed together at night.

"I won’t bite." Aemond's lips are quirked in a half smirk. He closes the book in his hands and sets it aside, patting the space beside him. "I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Come. Sit."

Though he had indicated the middle cushion, you sweep your skirts under you and take a seat on the one beside it, furthest from Aemond.

Normally you would have loved sitting and reading by candlelight, the cool breeze from the open windows ruffling your hair.

But now you bite your lip, heart hammering hard against your ribcage like a frightened bird.

Aemond can feel the tension radiating off of you. Your shoulders tight as a bow string, the muscles in your jaw taut, hands folded in your lap fidgeting with a loose thread on your gown.

He simple looks at you for a very long moment. Your features are delicate, almost fragile, your frame small and dainty when compared to his. To Aemond, you look very much like a porcelain doll. He has no idea how someone could be so beautiful and yet so…. breakable.

You glance nervously at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking.

"What?" You ask, though you keep your voice low, not wanting to anger him.

"You're afraid of me," Aemond states bluntly. He leans against the back of the settee, studying you with one intense purple eye. "Why?"

You laugh aloud, unable to stop yourself. Now seems as good a time as any to tell him exactly what you've been thinking since your wedding day.

"Look at you. And look at me. You could do whatever you want to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Not to mention...." You shrug. "The stories about you aren't kind...."

Aemond raises an eyebrow at your laughter, that same small, wry smile never leaving his lips. He can't help but wonder if you're mocking him as he leans forward, gaze still locked with yours.

"And what do the stories say about me, little wife?" His voice is low, a dangerous, frightening edge to it.

For seemingly the first time, you look your husband in the eye. One piercing violet eye stares back, the other covered by his customary eyepatch. "They say you're a fearsome warrior, one of the strongest swordsmen alive. And they say.... they say you killed that boy. Rhaenyra's son...."

Aemond’s eye narrows. There is so much uncertainty in that gaze of yours, something about your innocent face makes Aemond feel.... bad. His jaw clenches and he leans back.

"Lucerys Velaryon. Yes, I did kill him. Though I didn't mean to.... I lost control."

"You didn't?" Your eyes narrow as well, suspicious of him. "Then.... what did you mean to do?"

Your husband lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. "I meant to scare him. I was.... angry. I wanted to teach him a lesson, to frighten and humiliate him. And I did not have such good control over Vhagar as I do now...."

At the mention of his dragon, you perk up - that's one thing you've always been curious about. The Targaryen dragons are so beautiful and powerful; you would love to ride one one day, if given the chance.

"So your dragon, she disobeyed you?"

Aemond is clearly taken aback by your interest in Vhagar. For a moment, it seemed you forgot you were supposed to be scared of him. He tries to hide the hint of surprise flickering across his face.

"Well, yes and no," Aemond says, diplomatic. "Vhagar is a very old and powerful dragon, and she is used to doing what she wants. Sometimes.... it's difficult for any Targaryen to control a dragon, even the strongest of riders."

You are positively fascinated, hearing about Vhagar, leaning in toward Aemond without realizing. "What is it like, riding her? Does it ever get cold, so high up?"

Aemond can smell your perfume as you lean toward him, a mix of jasmine and honey, faint yet sweet. He clears his throat.

"Riding Vhagar is like nothing else," he tells you. "And yes, it does get cold at times, but the feeling of the wind in your hair and the power of the dragon beneath you is.... indescribable."

"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" At this point, you're nearly nose to nose with Aemond, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Or do they only let Targaryens?"

Aemond freezes, gaze still locked with yours, your heads so close together that he can feel your breath ghost across his lips. He is surprised by your question and even more surprised by how badly he wants to fulfill the request.

"They only let Targaryens ride them, yes," he says, voice sounding much huskier than he intends. "But.... I'm sure Vhagar wouldn't mind letting someone else ride her.... if I were to accompany them."

"Would you?" You reach out, hand finding his thigh and giving a thankful squeeze. Realizing what you've done, how close you've become to him, you quickly snatch that hand back as though Aemond is on fire. "I'm so sorry...."

Aemond’s eye widens; for a heartbeat, your touch sent a shock through his entire body.

"It's alright." His voice is rough. “Don’t apologize....” He catches your wrist gently, before you can pull your hand away completely. "It was.... nice."

You tense, wrist caught in his strong embrace. "What are you doing?"

For a long moment, Aemond doesn't respond, simply staring at your slender wrist in his hand. Your skin is so smooth, so soft. He can feel your pulse beating against his palm, fast and fluttering like the wings of a small bird.

"Doing?" He finally asks, looking up at you with a sly smile. "Just.... holding your hand, that’s all."

"Holding my.... oh." All things considered, Aemond is handsome, you suppose. With his long silver hair, that chiseled jaw, the little moue of his lips. "You.... you really aren't all that scary, are you?"

Chuckling softly, Aemond's fingers gently stroke the skin of your wrist. Your words, spoken almost as a question, take him by surprise.

"I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice low and slightly amused. "And I don’t want to be scary, to you. Can I be honest with you, little wife?"

You nod, letting him continue to stroke that sensitive bit of skin around your wrist. He is very gentle, which has taken you by surprise.

"The truth is," he mutters, "I don't like it when you're scared of me. I don't like the way you look at me, as if you think I'm going to pounce on you and tear you apart at any moment. That's not what I want."

Slowly, still wary of him, you curl your fingers around his thumb and Aemond's breath hitches. Your hand is small compared to his; Aemond's fingers look massive beside yours.

"Everyone else seems so frightened of you. I thought.... I should be as well. I didn't know, that you hadn't meant to kill that boy. Have you told anyone else that?"

“No,” he says after a moment. “No one else knows. I haven't told anyone.”

He pauses, looking down at your hand in his. His other hand comes to trap your fingers inside of his palms, his thumbs tracing back and forth over your skin. “You’re the first I've shared this with.”

"You should tell others, that way no one will be scared of you."

Aemond lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze still fixed on your fingers intertwined with his own.

“I quite like others being afraid of me,” he admits. The smile on his face fades, just a bit, in the flickering candlelight. “But not you.”

"Not me?" You query, a sweet blush rising high on your cheeks. "Why not me?"

Aemond’s eye is drawn to that color blooming across your cheeks, the innocent flush sending a strange feeling coursing through him. He continues to stroke your wrist in a gentle, almost reverent, way.

"A wife should not be afraid of her husband," he says finally, his voice soft. "She should be worshipped by him....”

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings your wrist to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.

You lick your lips, nervous as all seven hells with the way things are going. Not only are you still afraid of Aemond - though growing less so by the moment - you have also never been close like this with anyone else before.

"And why.... why is it so important for other people to be afraid of you?"

Aemond’s lips linger over your skin, the faintest ghost of a smile there. He can feel the way your hand trembles slightly in his, the nervous flutter of your pulse against his fingertips. But he also notices how you don’t draw back, how you sit still and allow him to hold you.

“It's.... payback, almost,” he confesses. “For the torment I suffered as a child. It is better to be feared than loved - no one will ever again treat me the way they did when I was young.”

You are not aware of any torment in Aemond's childhood, though that isn't saying much. Of course the Targaryens keep much of what goes on between them a secret. Even now that you're married, you're hardly privy to all - or even most - of their secrets.

"Is that.... how this happened?" Shaking ever so slightly, you raise a hand to Aemond's face, fingers stroking the strap of his eyepatch.

As your slender fingers brushed against the edge of it, Aemond tenses, every muscle in his body going taut. No one has ever touched him there before, and it's an unfamiliar intimacy.

He closes his eye for a moment, trying to control his reaction, before speaking. “Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotions he finds difficult to name. “That's how this happened.”

You feel for Aemond; having to grow up that way must have been torture.

Pulling your hand gently from his grasp, you bring both up to hook beneath the rough leather strap. "May I?"

His breathing hitches as your hands tug gently at the straps of his eyepatch. He knows your touch is innocent.... but no one has ever dared to remove it for him before. He nods once, his voice low.

“You may.”

With fierce concentration and a desire not to ruin his perfect hair, you slide the eyepatch up and off, gasping at the gorgeous sapphire glimmering where his eye should be.

"Gods, it's beautiful, Aemond." Letting the patch rest in your lap, you run your fingers lightly over the scar tissue below Aemond's eye. "Who did this to you?"

Aemond's breath hitches again, rougher this time, as he feels the tips of your slender fingers graze the scarred tissue around his eye, the touch stirring something deep within him. The feeling of your touch against the sensitive skin there is almost overwhelming.

He swallows hard, that old pain and anger bubbling up inside of him.

"My.... nephew," he finally says, his voice surprisingly even. "Lucerys Velaryon."

You inhale sharply; all you can think of is that if Aemond had really meant to kill the boy, he would have been well within his right to, after having been mutilated like this.

Grabbing for his hands, you hurry to say something. "Aemond, I-"

But your husband cuts you off. "There is one other reason it's important for others to be afraid of me."

"A-And what is that?" You ask, holding his hands close to your bosom.

"So that I can protect my wife, and my family." That sapphire is positively glowing in the light of the flickering candles. "The more afraid people are of me, the less likely they are to try and harm me, or you, or our family.... once we make one...."

His declaration takes all the air from your lungs, and you find it hard to breathe. "If I had known all of this, I.... I would never have been so frightened of you. I'm sorry, Aemond."

You cast around desperately for something else to say, some other way to apologize.

"Do not apologize."

His voice is gentle, yet firm. Your hands are still holding his against your breast, and he can feel the warmth of your skin even through the layers of your gown, the rapid beat of your heart.

"You didn't know, it is not your fault for being afraid," he soothes you. "But.... now that you know.... may I ask you something else?"

You nod, eager now to answer Aemond's questions and to ask more of your own - you want to learn so much more about him.

Aemond's fingers tighten around yours, the feel of your soft skin against his own sending a strange heat through his veins. He draws you in a little closer, his face now so close to yours that he can feel the warmth of your breath, that same scent of sweet honey and jasmine in your hair.

"You.... have not shied away from my scar, or my missing eye," he says, his voice a low whisper. "You have touched them, caressed them even.... why?"

Why...? You find it odd he even has to ask.

"Because I think they make you beautiful. Is that wrong?"

Your thumbs find his wrists now, pressing in against his pulse points, which are fluttering erratically.

Aemond's breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your dainty thumbs resting against his wrists, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse, setting his skin on fire. Your words, declaring him beautiful, ring in his ears, stirring something deep within his chest.

"Be-Beautiful?" He repeats, his voice a terrible croak. No one.... no one has ever called him beautiful. The word sounds strange in his ears, as if they're not meant for someone like him.

You nod, and after only a momentary hesitation, you bring one hand up again to his scar. This time, brushing the side closest to his hairline, a few strands of long silver hair getting in the way.

"Beautiful, Aemond. You're beautiful. I mean.... I did always think that. Just.... was too afraid of you to tell you. Do you forgive me?"

Aemond's breath hitches once more as your fingers stroke his hair, your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. No one, no one, has ever touched his scar with such tenderness, such care.

"I.... I forgive you," he whispers, voice raw. "And for what it's worth.... I'm sorry, that I.... that I made you afraid of me. I never wanted that, I swear."

"I know. It wasn't even your fault, really." You roll your eyes, relaxing against the back of the settee. "I was just.... assuming that what everyone else said was true. Which is a terrible thing, really. My parents raised me much better than that."

A particularly chilly gust of wind blows in through the window and you wrap your arms around yourself. "I have to admit, I thought if my shenanigans went on much longer, you'd be forced to.... well, force yourself on me...."

Aemond is silent, as if that thought, the notion of forcing himself on you, is something he refuses to even consider. He turns to look at you, the pale glow of his sapphire eye giving him an otherworldly appearance.

"I.... I would never force you to do anything, little wife, not ever," he says, his voice low and serious. "I believe the first time a man and wife.... are together.... it should be.... enjoyable.... for both of them."

Suddenly, all words are caught in your throat. The thought of your first time with Aemond still makes you nervous, even knowing that he would never want to do anything against your will.

"I thought.... a woman's first time was always painful?" That's what you've always been told. You have never done anything of the sort, but perhaps Aemond knows better.

At your words, Aemond's jaw tightens. His fingers clench into a fist, the thought of you in pain during your first time together sending a wave of anger through him.

"No. No, never. It shouldn't be painful, not unless you don't want it, too," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Your first time should be.... enjoyable. Pleasant. I would never take you simply for my own pleasure. I would make sure you...." he falters.

Flinching slightly away from him at the sight of his hand in a fist, you gasp softly. Have you said something wrong?

Still, you dare to ask, "You would make sure I what?"

In the candlelight, Aemond's eye flashes dangerously and that sapphire blazes.

He takes a very deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to open his hand again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I.... I don't like the idea of hurting you, it.... makes me angry."

He looks down at you again.

"I would make sure that you.... felt pleasure as well. It wouldn't be about me. It's about both of us."

If you had known how protective Aemond was of you, you would have asked him about these things sooner. He is, after all, the only person you can think to ask. If you can't discuss bedroom matters with your husband, who can you discuss them with?

"How does it feel?" You ask him softly, scooting closer to him on the settee. "When you have sex, how does it feel?"

Aemond is taken somewhat off guard by the sudden question, his cheeks going pink at your unexpected candor, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't want to shy away from your questions, not when you're so close to him, peering at him through those wide, innocent eyes.

He takes another deep breath, shifting on the settee so he can face you fully.

"it.... it feels.... good," he begins, his voice a low rumble. "It feels.... full. Warm. Tight. But.... good. More than good, especially when you do it with someone you care about. It feels safe, like nothing can hurt you ever again."

The look on Aemond's face as he speaks is one you've never seen before - something vulnerable and almost childlike staring back at you. You wonder how you could ever have been afraid of him.

"And you? Who was your first time with?"

As your question hangs in the air between the two of you, Aemond goes stock-still. No one has ever asked him that before.

He hesitates for a moment, peering warily at you. "Why.... why do you want to know?" He asks finally, voice cautious.

Now you know you've definitely said something wrong. "I was just curious," you hurry to tell him. "It's wrong of me to pry, I'm sorry...."

Aemond sighs softly, shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he says, his voice a light simper now. He reaches out, taking your hand gently in his.

"It's okay, I just.... wasn't expecting you to ask that." He pauses, and you can see a flicker of something run across his face. "You.... you really want to know?"

"I do," you admit bashfully. "If you feel comfortable telling me?"

Aemond's hand grips yours a little tighter, your words sending a strange, tight feeling through hm. He hasn't thought about that night in a long time, and the memory is still painful enough to make him wince.

"All right," he says, letting out a slow breath. "I.... I'll tell you. Just.... just don't.... don't judge me, all right?"

"I won't judge," you assure him with a shake of your head.

Aemond looks down at your intertwined hands, his fingers tracing a light pattern against your palm. He closes his eye, gathering his thoughts, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a barely-there kiss to your knuckles.

"My.... my first time," he begins, and his voice is rough, "was with a whore, in a pleasure house, at the behest of my brother who frequented - and still frequents - them much more than I did."

"I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of," you admit, mulling the idea over. "Most men visit those types of places at some point in their lives.... don't they?"

Aemond pauses for a moment, his eye locking with yours. He looks almost surprised by your response, as if he hadn't thought you would be so blasé about the situation.

"Yes...." he says slowly, "they do. But.... it's not.... it's not the sort of thing a wife would expect to hear, about their husband's past exploits."

You chew your lip thoughtfully, running your fingers around and through the spaces between Aemond's. "I don't mind, as long as...."

You hesitate, wondering if you really want to say this now or leave it for another night. "What I mean to say, Aemond, is that.... now that we understand each other better.... perhaps you can show me what it's like? Sex? And, if you do, I expect there to be no more pleasure houses in your future, is that clear?"

Aemond's gaze darkens as your words register, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers twitch against yours, breath catching in his throat.

"You.... you want me to show you...?" He repeats weakly, his eye wide and disbelieving.

You close your fingers tightly around Aemond's now, leaning in toward your husband. "Mm. But as I said, you must promise - no more pleasure houses. After all, you did say you want to worship me, did you not?"

Aemond's head swims with your words, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it's difficult to catch his breath. The way you're looking at him, the sweetness in your voice, the scent of honey and jasmine in your hair.... all of it is almost too much to bear.

He swallows hard, and nods. "No more pleasure houses. I promise," he whispers, his voice hoarse and rough.

His oath sets you at ease, but there's one more thing you must tell him.

"I must admit, Aemond, I'm still scared...."

He looks about to interrupt, but you cut him off. "Oh, not of you. I'm.... terrified of the pain. I've never done well with pain, and I'm so scared it's going to hurt like hell."

Aemond's heart twists at the worry and fear in your voice, his fingers tightening over yours. He hates the thought of you being scared, hates his own inability to take that fear away from you.

"Why do you still think it's going to be painful?" He asks quietly.

Instead of making you feel trapped, his fingers around yours make you feel safe. Aemond is lethal; you can see it in his face, in the hard line of his body. But he wants to use all of that to protect you....

Though what could he possibly do to prevent his own body from hurting you, even though he might not mean to?

"That's all I've ever been told." You gulp. "A woman's first time is always painful. And.... There's always blood."

Aemond's jaw clenches in anger. He doesn't know who planted these false, hurtful notions in your head, but he wants to tear them limb from limb.

He reaches out to you, tilting your head gently up to meet his gaze. "No. No, no, no," he says, his voice low and intense. "It's not supposed to be painful, especially the first time. You've just.... you've been told wrong."

He pauses. "Sometimes there is blood, I won't lie to you about that. But there are ways to minimize the chance of that."

Aemond's fingers start to skirt back and forth under your chin. "How .... How can we stop there being so much blood? I want you to show me."

Heart now beating much faster, Aemond's stomach twists with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He swallows, hard, his eye dark and heavy-lidded as he gazes down at you.

He runs his fingers through your hair, the soft feel of it against his skin maddening. "I can show you," he murmurs, "but.... you have to trust me."

"Of course. I do now." You turn your face toward his hand, palm skimming your cheek as he touches your hair. "I know you'll take care of me."

He takes another deep breath to steady himself, his hand coming to rest against the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Good," he whispers, "because I will, always. But there's something.... something I need to know first."

You shiver, Aemond's fingers reverent along your cheek and jaw. "What is it?"

Fingers now trailing down your neck, he pauses, hand coming to rest on your collarbone, your pulse beating fast and hard against his palm.

Aemond leans in close, his voice a rumble in your ear. "You.... you have never even been touched, have you?"

You are very aware of how hard your heart is beating, thumping underneath his fingers. "I haven't.... is that bad?"

Aemond breathes heavily, pulling back to look at you.

"No," he says emphatically, "it's not bad. It's.... it's just...." He trails off for a moment, struggling to find the words. "I need to know.... if you're still.... if you're still intact."

The question makes you blush furiously, looking down at your laps, side by side, so you don't have to look Aemond in the eye. "I.... yes.... isn't that where the blood comes from?"

You don't know much, but you do know that.

He places two fingers gently under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him again.

"Yes," he says, "that's where the blood comes from. But it can break in other ways. For instance, from fingers or.... other objects." His fingers trace along your cheek, obviously trying to soothe your growing discomfort at this conversation.

"But it.... it doesn't have to," he adds after a moment.

You chuckle, reluctantly meeting Aemond's gaze. "Can we try?"

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand now trailing back down your neck, slowly caressing. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

You nod fervently, gripping onto his wrist. "Positively. Now that I understand you better, I can think of no one else I'd like to teach me such things...."

He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, breath hot against your skin. "Then I will," he murmurs, his voice an uneven, ragged whisper, "I will show you. And I will take my time."

Long have you waited for someone to come along and share this experience with you. When you were initially betrothed to Aemond, you thought all hope was lost - he was so frightening and the thought of sharing a bed with him sent a shiver of panic through you.

But now.... Women have desires just as much as men do, surely... At least you know you do. And Aemond is offering to take care of them for you....

You steady yourself with a hand on Aemond's chest, nails digging into the soft cotton of his tunic. "Please.... I want it."

Aemond's stomach clenches, your soft, pleading voice sending a bolt of white hot desire through him.

"Patience," he murmurs, his sizeable palm laid against the back of your hand on his chest, "I'll take care of you, I promise. I just need you to relax for me, all right?"

"Mm, I'll try...." With another nod, you take a deep breath, shuddering at the feeling of Aemond's big hand covering yours entirely. "Maybe a drink would serve to relax me better...?"

This gives Aemond pause, and he pulls back slightly, his eye raking over your face, taking in the soft blush on your cheeks, the way your lips are parted as you catch your breath.

He gives a single, slow nod. "Yes," he admits, "I think a drink might help."

Without another word, he moves to a small table on the other side of the room, pouring you each a generous glass of sweet wine.

As he does so, you finger the pendant at your throat, a gift from your late mother. The way Aemond looks at you; any woman would be lucky to have a husband who looks at her that way. Like you're precious, like he would do anything to protect you.

Once offered your glass, you take it and swallow a large mouthful, hoping to get drunk as quickly as possible, to make this whole ordeal more bearable.

Aemond watches you closely, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sees you gulp the wine so quickly. He knows you're trying to get drunk, trying to use the alcohol as a crutch to make this easier.

"There's no need to rush," he says quietly, taking a seat beside you again, his knee bumping yours. He lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured drink.

Swallowing another substantial mouthful of wine, you furtively watch the way Aemond's lips purse around the rim of his glass.

You smooth the skirts of your dress down, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be as relaxed as possible for you, Aemond."

He continues to watch you, that striking violet eye taking in every tiny detail - the way your fingers grasp the fabric of your dress, the soft movement of your body underneath the silk.

He takes a deep breath, his eye watching you as he drains the last of the wine from the glass. "I know," he murmurs, his voice a husky rumble, "but there's no need to get completely drunk, my love."

"It can't hurt." You upend the first glass of wine, draining the last dregs, and hold your glass out toward him. "Another?"

Apparently highly amused, Aemond raises a brow, but refuses to pour you another.

"I think that's quite enough. There's no need to be quite so drunk tonight, I promise."

You pout, setting your glass aside, but starting to feel a pleasant warmth wash over you from the first glass all the same.

"How do we start?" You question, leaning in close to him. Aemond smells of chamomile and sweat and.... maybe just a hint of blood? It's the best thing you've ever smelled.

Aemond reaches for you suddenly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you gently onto his lap so you can straddle him.

The next breath he takes rattles through him as you settle on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, heart beating fast. "We.... we start here," he whispers, his voice a rough murmur.

"Goodness," you breathe, hands curling over his shoulders to steady yourself. "And.... what do we do here?"

You're trying your best to be brave, and the wine is making it easier, but there is still that niggling worry at the back of your mind, chanting blood blood blood.

Aemond feels that slight tremble in your hands as you grab his shoulders, the way you hesitate and swallow nervously as you ask your question. He can practically hear your thoughts racing, paying attention to the fear and trepidation in your words.

He leans in close, hands slipping from your waist to bracket your ribs, pulling you flush against him, your body cradled easily in his lap. "We start like this," he murmurs, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to look at him. "Just like this."

Slowly, fingers gentle but firm on your chin, he's bringing you in for a kiss.

The sound that leaves your mouth at the first dry press of your lips together is embarrassing. You curse. "I'm sorry." You bite your lip hard, searching Aemond's one violet eye for forgiveness. "Can we try again?"

Aemond chuckles good-naturedly, hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow, gentle patterns over your cheeks.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, leaning ever closer to you, his breath hot against your lips. "We can try as many times as you like, darling."

With a hand again around his wrist to steady yourself, you don't have far to go, what with Aemond's face so close to yours. You press your lips to his - soft yet firm. Your other hand slides up the outside of his thigh as you open your mouth under his, grateful for his willingness to teach you.

You hear Aemond's breath hitch again as he feels your hand moving up his leg, the touch of your slim, soft fingers against his body sending a shiver down his spine. He groans as you open your mouth, his tongue immediately seeking yours, tangling, tasting, claiming.

He grips your hair in one hand, angling your head back so he can deepen the kiss, his other hand back to gripping your hip, pulling you tighter against him.

You do the same, hands migrating down, loving the feeling of Aemond's slim, strong muscle under your fingers. As you kiss, you surreptitiously move the thin cloth of Aemond's tunic aside so you can touch him skin to skin over his sharp hipbones.

This earns you a keen inhale from your husband, who jerks away from you.

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "Is this okay?"

His mouth has opened in a gasp against yours, eyes squeezing shut.

When they open again, he merely looks at you, taking in the soft, pink flush of your cheeks, the way your pupils are thoroughly dilated, your chest heaving. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yes," he says ruggedly, his voice a scratchy gasp, "I'm sorry, it is. It's okay."

A flood of warmth washes over you, and you grin. You don't know why, but you want to kiss his neck.

Fingers digging hard into his hip, you lean in, nosing his long hair out of the way as your lips meet his neck, sucking and biting. Aemond tastes clean and faintly of rose water.

Aemond's head tips back immediately, giving your lips and teeth free reign over his neck, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh at the unfamiliar sensation. A soft, low moan escapes him as your mouth traces a path along the sensitive skin of his neck.

His body arches against yours. "My love," he gasps, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, "this is maddening."

"Need you to teach me," is your reply, pushing harder against him. "Don't go mad just yet."

He runs his hands down your sides, skimming over the soft, silky material of your dress, his body reacting powerfully to your closeness. "Gods, woman," he gasps, thumbs playing idly along the edge of your ribs, "are you sure you haven't done this before?"

You rest your cheek on Aemond's shoulder, nose brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. "Positive," you sigh, arms now slung around him. "But I like the way you touch me. It's making me feel all hot and wet.... down there."

At this declaration, Aemond makes a noise you've never heard anyone make before. He nuzzles against your collarbone, pressing slow, hot kisses along the line of your chest just visible over the collar of your dress.

His mouth is starting to curve into a wicked smile. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"

With a nod, you begin to pull the folds of your dress up over your thighs. "Please. The feeling down there, it's.... very insistent." And Aemond's fingers look perfectly long and warm and rough with calluses.

Aemond swallows hard as he watches the fabric of your dress retreat up over your thighs, the soft, bare skin of your legs suddenly exposed to him. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail - the soft, pale flesh, the way the candlelight casts shadows over the curves of your body.

As though trying not to startle you, Aemond runs his knuckles painstakingly slowly up the inside of your thigh. "When we were first betrothed, I knew I had gotten lucky."

That drunken haze still hovering around you, you let your legs slip further apart around him. "Lucky? How so?"

His hand moves further up, touch feather-light against her skin. "Lucky," he murmurs, "because I knew I'd be marrying the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms."

He lets his hand move higher still, fingers stopping just before they reach the edge of your smallclothes. He pauses, looking intently at you, the question plain on his face.

"I never knew you thought I was beautiful...." You lean more against him, feeling impossibly safe and comfortable in his embrace. "Please. You can."

Hips canting forward, you try to push his hand in toward you.

"The most beautiful," he replies. He can feel your hips moving subtly against his, feel his own desire rising with every move you make.

Those long fingers hook into the edge of your smallclothes, running the backs of his knuckles along the sensitive bit of skin he finds there.

Your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his gentle fingers finally scooping up under your dress making your stomach flip nervously. "Please." The word is uttered against Aemond's chin, where you've pressed your lips as you wait to feel his hand where you need it most.

As slowly as he an manage, he insinuates those fingers fully inside your smallclothes. He can feel the heat of your skin, the way you squirm in his lap as he moves closer to his destination, his own body reacting strongly to the anticipation.

He leans in, mouth finding yours in a heated, hungry kiss, his fingers finally, finally touching that wet, sensitive flesh between your thighs.

A sharp inhale accompanies the meeting of Aemond's hand to your sex. Everything down there feels so wet already, you suppose you should be embarrassed, but the wine is making it hard to feel so, which you're grateful for.

"Aemond...." Seeking his lips for another kiss, you mutter, "please don't stop."

One long finger sinks into your wet, hot flesh, his entire body shivering at the feeling of you beneath his hands. He lets out a ragged gasp as you kiss him, mouth moving fervently against yours, tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with yours.

With a low, gruff noise, he starts to move his finger inside of you, slow, gentle circles that make your muscles tighten and twitch against his hand. "I won't," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut, "I promise, I won't."

Aemond's finger has slid easily into you, all the way down to the knuckle. "Is it -?" You gasp, glancing down, tugging your skirts out of the way to see better. "It's inside? I thought it would be much more painful...."

You know it might not be the same with his manhood, which is surely a fair bit bigger than one of his fingers, but you're glad things have gone smoothly so far all the same.

Aemond's other hand presses itself solidly against that little bundle of nerves, the one you're familiar with, the one that makes you see stars, and you bite his lower lip a little too hard in response.

"Shit, sorry."

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your reaction, his lips curving into a smile against your mouth. "No need to apologize, sweet girl," he mutters. "There's a possibility it might hurt more than this when we go further, but I promise I'll be gentle."

He moves his finger in and out of you slowly, his other hand still pressing against you, the pad of his thumb circling that swollen bud, his touch gentle but firm. "How does this feel?"

A pang of fear shoots through you at his declaration that you will likely be in pain later on, but it's soothed by the way Aemond's fingers are gently coaxing themselves inside of you and over your clit.

"It feels perfect, Aemond. I never even knew it could feel this good." Not even when you'd touched yourself in bed at night.

Aemond's eye darkens as he hears your words, the sound of your voice, gutted and breathless, making his stomach clench. "This is just the beginning, sweet girl. There's so much more I can show you."

He slips another finger into you, feeling your body tighten and go taut around him, his own body still reacting powerfully to the sight and feel of you. He leans in to kiss you again, his mouth hungrily claiming yours.

With another finger inside, you start to squirm in his lap, and your hand slips, colliding with something hard inside of Aemond's trousers.

"Aemond," you gasp, "it.... it's hard."

Aemond lets out a strangled noise as your hand brushes against him, his body shuddering, his eye squeezing shut. "Ah, shit, sweetheart," he gasps, his breath ragged, "Don't do that."

He looks at you, his breath coming in quick, rough pants, his eye darkened to a deep, intense violet. "I'm going to be patient with you."

He says this like he's trying to convince himself of it.

"I'm sorry," you gasp again, hands flying to your mouth. "I didn't mean to touch it...."

Gaze flickering to the windows, to the Targaryen flags flying from every turret, you stifle a smile. "But maybe.... maybe you don't have to be so patient...."

Aemond growls at your words, fingers slowing their ministrations over you. "How impatient would you have me be?"

You reach down to take his free hand - the one currently touching your clit in nice, soft circles - in yours, lacing your fingers as you lean into him. "Still gentle, just.... Maybe lead me? Show me how things like this should be done."

Aemond can practically feel his self-restraint slipping at your words, the feeling of your small, soft hand in his making his head spin. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to maintain control, to keep up the facade of gentility.

He grips your chin with his free hand, lifting your face to meet his eye, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks, the question almost pained.

"I am. I'm sure." You wrap your shoulders around him, burying your face against his neck. "Take me to bed and show me, please."

Aemond swallows hard, the feeling of your breath against him sending a shudder through him. Lifting you easily in his arms, he stands silently from the settee.

The loss of Aemond's fingers from inside of you makes you whine, clinging to his broad shoulders as he makes his way to the bed.

He lays you gently down, crawling over you, hand once again trailing up the soft expanse of your thigh.

"Aemond...."

A sweet noise rumbles through him as he positions himself on top of you, body pressing you down against the covers, hips slotting between your legs. His gaze as he looks down on you is fiery, eye raking over your body, hands gripping and kneading the supple flesh of your thighs.

"You drive me mad, do you know that?" He murmurs. He leans down to kiss your neck, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

With Aemond on top of you, you reach around to tug the back of his tunic up, skimming your fingers along the warm skin of his lower back.

"Why did you never.... tell me before?" You mutter quietly, nibbling at Aemond's earlobe.

Aemond allows himself a deep moan as you touch him, your fingers roaming over his skin, your mouth on his ear. He rolls his hips against you, the aching hardness of his body weighing you down.

"Gods, I don't know," he gasps, his hands roaming over the soft curves of your body. "Maybe I could tell you were afraid of me. Maybe I was a fool."

"I suppose we both were fools." You curl your tongue around Aemond's ear, teasing.

His hardness is pressing insistently against you through your clothes. Aemond leans his forehead to yours. "I'm going to take your dress off now. Is that alright?"

You've never been naked in front of anyone before, but Aemond is making you feel so safe that you nod hurriedly, sitting up. "Yes, please."

Aemond's eye darkens at your nod, his hands immediately going to the laces of your dress, working them loose until the fabric falls away from your body. He lets his gaze roam over your exposed skin, his fingers tracing the soft planes of your body, reverent and gentle.

"Seven Hells," he mutters, his voice a ragged whisper, "I've never seen anything so perfect."

The wine allows you to feel comfortable enough to stretch out over top of your discarded dress, staring up at him over the swell of your breasts. "Don't you want to touch your perfect wife, Aemond?"

"Of course I do," he mutters. He moves aside only slightly, letting his fingers scrape over one of your hardened nipples. "I want to touch every part of you."

You arch into his touch, his fingertips hard and callused against your sensitive nipple. "Aemond.... Would I be a complete whore if I asked for your fingers back inside of me?"

"No," he mutters easily, a hand running its way down your body, the other holding himself above you. "No, you wouldn't. But I want you to ask for it, my love. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."

Your breathing quickening, the air in the room thick and heavy, you spread your legs around him, unabashed. "i want you to touch me. To touch my stomach, my hips and thighs .... my cunt. Please."

Aemond makes a ragged noise at your request, his body shuddering as you open yourself to him. He trails his hand lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach, trailing over your hips and thighs, before coming to rest between your legs.

He lets that hand rest on your for a moment, feeling your wetness, his violet eye dark and full of lust. "Is this what you wanted, darling?"

"Yes," comes your voice, wrecked, entire body feeling overheated and overwhelmed already. "Gods, Aemond, I.... I'm sorry I didn't ask for this earlier."

You run your hands up Aemond's toned arms, tugging on the short sleeves of his tunic. "M-May I take this off?"

Feeling you tug at his tunic, Aemond nods, loving that ragged and pleading tone in your voice. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can see the raw, pleading look in your eyes, and he's never been more turned on in his life.

By way of a real answer, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt to rip it off over his head. He shakes his hair out majestically, making you giggle.

But after that giggle.... You can do nothing but lay beneath him and stare. His body is perfect, abs cut into his skin above the smooth, narrow line of his hips.

"Goodness ...." You whisper, fingertips prodding at his hardened stomach. "You're.... actually perfect."

"Perfect, really?" He replies, clearly perplexed. "I'd say I'm looking at perfection right now."

You whimper, Aemond's moist lips once more at your neck, his body pressed to yours. "How do you.... get your body to look that way? Maybe you can teach me that too, as well as how to ride a dragon."

Aemond laughs softly, his teeth scraping against you as he kisses down your neck. "It's actually quite simple," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, arms caging you in against the bed. "Just a lot of sword practice and fighting."

He pauses, his lips trailing teasingly over the line of your jaw. "I'm going to teach you to ride more than just a dragon, my love."

"I could sword fight." Your voice doesn't sound like it ever has before. "Easy. Train me."

You gasp at his words, nails now digging into his back. "And what else are you going to teach me to ride, husband?"

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your response, his muscles coiling where your nails dig into his skin. He rolls his hips against you and makes you gasp.

"I can teach you how to ride me," he mutters, his voice a rough, ragged whisper. "Or maybe you'd like a ride on my face."

Your eyes go wide, and you press him away by the shoulder just so you can look him in the eye. "I.... I'm allowed to do that?"

You've never heard of this - using your mouth? Why have you never thought of it before?

"Of course you are," he murmurs, looking bemusedly down on you. "And I would be more than happy to let you."

His hot breath whispers over your skin as he leans to speak into your ear. "You've never heard of it before, have you?"

"I haven't." You tilt your head, fingers tender along Aemond's jaw. "How should I.... How do I do it?"

Aemond's eye closes at the feeling of your fingers, tender on his jaw, your touch ever gentle and caressing. He makes a very small noise and shudders over top of you. "It's easy, darling."

"I just lean back here...." With one swift movement, Aemond rolls and settles himself against the pillows. "You come up here...."

Gentle but insistent hands guide you, pulling you all the way up. "And swing a leg over me."

Still helped along by his strong hands, you throw one knee on the opposite side of Aemond's head, bracketing his ears with your thighs. "Like.... this?"

This position makes you feel as nervous as you have all night, even with the aid of the wine - Aemond can see all of you. Truly all of you, and you can't quite meet his eye because of it.

Aemond's hands tighten on your thighs, his breathing growing ragged. He can sense your nervousness, the way your muscles are tensing up, the way you're avoiding his eye.

He rubs his hands soothingly across your thighs, trying to relax you. "That's it, darling." His voice is soft, comforting. "You look gorgeous."

You bite your lip, carding one hand through Aemond's alluring silver hair. The other you place over his good eye, the hint of a smile on your face as you mutter, "Don't look...."

Aemond smirks, and yanks you suddenly, roughly forward by the backs of your thighs, so that your womanhood is directly above his smirking lips. "As you wish."

He places a single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit and the suction, the wetness, of it all is enough to make you squeal.

There's one poignant moment where Aemond's intensely hot, wet mouth rests over your womanhood. Then, with a jagged moan, he begins to lave over you, lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem.

His callused palms cradle the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue works you over. And when that same tongue points itself deep inside of your core, you can no longer keep your hand over his eye, lest you want to smash your husband's head painfully into the sheets.

Instead, that hand flies to the headboard, holding on for dear life. "Gods, Aemond! I.... I've never felt anything like this, what.... what in the seven hells...."

Aemond redoubles his grip on your thighs, keeping you in place as he works you with his tongue, his mouth and teeth and lips bringing you to new heights of pleasure. He moans roughly, and the sound reverberates through you, making your mouth fall open.

"Just... relax, my love," he mutters against your folds, "I did say I would worship you, did I not?"

You nod, still petting a hand gently through Aemond's hair, coiling your fingers around the strands, feeling how soft it is. Your eyes, however, are trained on the gilded ceiling when you answer.

"Y-You did, but.... this.... I didn't even know this was a thing people did. Is this.... common?"

"No, sweet one," he mutters, his voice thick with desire and - somewhere - a hint of disdain, "it isn't common. Most men see their wives as something to be claimed, conquered. And I...."

"You see them as something to be worshipped," you answer, remembering his words from earlier.

Aemond lets out a low chuckle against you as you knot your fingers in his hair, his tongue continuing to lathe across you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips and chin glistening, a smirk on his face. "Look at me."

You do, and are rewarded with his fingers climbing the insides of your thighs, splaying themselves over you. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."

The sight of his face, so slick with you, his eye dark, his sapphire glinting, his fingers roaming over your thighs, it all makes you shiver, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.

"And you," he continues, voice muffled against your folds, "you taste divine."

And without another word, he dives back in, his tongue delving into you once more, his hands gripping your thighs, bringing you lower, closer to him.

All of this - Aemond telling you how beautiful you are, his talented mouth on you, the haze of the wine moving through you - has you tumbling toward the edge quicker than you've ever done so by yourself.

"Aemond.... close!" You give a hard tug to Aemond's hair, warning him.

He closes his eyes as he focuses on nothing more than bringing you further to the edge, the heat of your body and the taste of you driving him wild, pushing him to give you more, more, more.

"Just.... let go," he mutters against you. "I want you to let go for me, my sweet."

You're trembling now, hips riding down against his face of their own accord. "Oh, gods...." You've never done this in front of anyone before. What will Aemond think of the way you climax? Will it be embarrassing? "Aemond...."

There's no longer any time to think it over, though, as one last swipe of his tongue sends you spiraling with a loud cry.

Aemond's heart is pounding hard, watching you cum, his eye wide and alight with desire as he watches your body shudder and shake above him, your cry of pleasure filling the room and, undoubtedly, the hallways around it.

He helps you ride out the wave of pleasure, his tongue slowly bringing you back down, peppering your thighs and hip bones with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Your eyes fluttering, your chest heaving, Aemond coaxes you through your first climax with him and then maneuvers you down to lay beside him. You feel so boneless, you sure you aren't much help in this endeavor.

"That was...." You don't even have the words to describe what just happened to you.

Aemond watches you closely as you lay beside him, breasts rising and falling heavily, your skin flushed and marked all over with his mouth, one hand trailing lightly over your stomach. The sight of you, well-loved and satisfied, makes his chest burn with desire.

He leans in close to you, curling his body around yours like a protective shield. His mouth trailing over your neck, his voice a quiet whisper. "That was beautiful. And we're only getting started."

You gaze at him out of half-lidded eyes, your body already feeling drained from just one round. "What...." You stifle a yawn behind your hand, trying to hide it. "What's next?"

Aemond laughs at the sight of you yawning, both hands now brushing over your body, his touch gentle. He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, hear the tiredness in your voice.

He leans down and presses a loving kiss to your forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready for more yet, my love. You look like you're barely awake."

Through your tiredness, you whine, "But you promised to show me. What it's like...." You're pressing sleepy kisses to Aemond's jaw, lips sweeping down over his neck.

Aemond's lashes flutter at your tiny kisses, his arms curling strong and protective around you. He makes an odd noise, and you realize you may have had an orgasm, but he never did.

"I can take care of it for you." Searching down below, hands clumsy and heavy with sleep, you feel Aemond grab for your wrist.

"And you will," he mutters, admonishing. "But tonight it's getting late, and you're tired. We have our whole lives together, we need not rush this."

Another yawn overtakes you, and you snuggle down into his warmth. "Tomorrow, then?" You mumble, arms slung lazily around him. "And dragon riding tomorrow, too...."

Aemond chuckles again at your insistence, hands gently rubbing themselves over your body, comforting you. He shifts back on the bed, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible.

"Of course, my love," he murmurs, his voice a gentle, soothing rumble in your ear. "Tomorrow. And dragon riding, too. But for now, you need to sleep."

Aemond runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your back, just along your spine.

"I really am sorry, Aemond...." You're already half asleep, struggling to stay awake, to get the words out. "D'you really forgive me?"

Aemond sighs.

"Of course I forgive you," he whispers, breath tickling your ear. "It's all in the past now, my love. The only thing that matters is you and me, right here, right now. And dragon riding tomorrow, I promise...."

[rafesangelita]

♡ when a double date with rafe leads to him feeling a sense of familiarity + you may have revealed your biggest secret yet..

warnings: mean!rafe. enemies to ???, suggestive language, lots of cussing lol, slight angst, mild sexting, light degradation (reader and rafe just like being snarky towards each other), sexual tension, flirty banter (?), slight arguing

a/n: this is part two of this fic right here! if you’d like to be added to the taglist just comment on this post or leave me an ask <3 i do plan to write three more parts to this!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.9k

[1:19 AM] countryclub: we have the same area code.

you felt cold sheer panic run through your veins at the revelation, your heart beating in your ears as you kept rereading his message. you refused to believe what he said to be true. this couldn’t be happening. sharing the same area code could only mean one thing— both of you resided on the island.

sure, the island was small, but it couldn’t be that small.. right? your mind was reeling, everything that you two had talked about, the pictures that you two shared, over the last few months ran through your mind at lightning speed. tossing your phone to the side, you rested your head in your hands, trying your best to piece something, anything, together. this mystery man didn’t talk like anyone you knew, or so you thought. you chewed on your bottom lip, your chest rising and falling as you realized that you hadn’t even confirmed if you two shared the same area code. for all you know he could just be making up some lame excuse for leaving you high and dry.

yeah, that had to be it.

[1:33 AM] brattydiaries: fuck you. i don’t believe that.

[1:35 AM] brattydiaries: i don’t need you to come up with some elaborate lie in order to spare my feelings. if you weren’t serious about reaching out to me in the first place, then you shouldn’t have asked for my number.

rafe was pacing back and forth in his room, the taste of tequila from his earlier activities still lingering on his tongue. he scoffed once your messages came in, his eyes narrowing at his screen as he scratched the back of his neck. insinuating that he didn’t really want to talk to you was just flat out insane. nowadays, all he could do was imagine the way your voice would sound in his ears while he pounded you in, the thoughts and images of you taking up his headspace.

[1:38 AM] countryclub: are you fucking stupid?? i was very serious about wanting to talk to you, you live in my fucking brain.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: 252. that’s the area code for kildare island.

[1:39 AM] countryclub: and judging by the way you post your nail appointments every two weeks, along with all the sexy lil try-on hauls you did for me, i could confidently say that you’re not a pogue.

your eyes widened in horror. only someone who lived on kildare island would know about the whole ‘kooks vs. pogues’ thing. besides the confirmation with the area code, you knew he wasn’t lying. you stared blankly at the screen, having no idea what to say or even do about this situation. having these kinds of blogs and letting anyone you knew in real life find out about them was social suicide. maybe not so much for rafe, but you? you were a totally different person out here. you had a reputation to uphold, you couldn’t risk the scrutiny you or your parents would face if anyone ever found out.

as mad as you were at the mystery man behind the screen for ghosting you without an explanation, you could understand his sudden disappearance now that you currently felt sick to your stomach at the realization. he was far too close for comfort. based off of his username, you knew you two had to be running in the same social circles, your blood running cold at the thought of this person being someone you might’ve had contact with before. figure eight wasn’t big enough to keep a secret like this, it was only a matter of time before you two would unintentionally reveal yourselves to one another.

[1:50 AM] brattydiaries: this can’t go on any longer. sorry not sorry.

you ignored the small pang of hurt in your chest when you pressed send. apart of you hoped that he wouldn’t let you off so easily. you couldn’t deny the thrilling feeling that sat in your tummy at the prospect of knowing who he is but also being utterly clueless at the same time.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: nah.

[1:55 AM] countryclub: i got you right where i want you now.

there was no way in hell rafe was going to just allow you two to go back to not talking. he did it once, but he wouldn’t be able to do it again. especially now that he knows everything he wants is on his side of the island. just in arm’s reach. obviously, he couldn’t physically stop you from blocking him, but at least he knew that if you responded to him then you two were on the same page.

and sure enough..

[1:59 AM] brattydiaries: whatever.

were you scared shitless? yes. did you believe that this was going to backfire in some way? most definitely; but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this. whatever little sexting arrangement you two had going on, it was the only relatively exciting thing you had going for yourself and you weren’t necessarily ready to let it go.

[2:03 AM] countryclub: so can i call you or what?

you shook your head even though he couldn’t see you.

[2:05 AM] brattydiaries: fuck no. goodnight.

rafe smiled down at his phone before getting ready for bed, both of you finding it nearly impossible to get any kind of sleep. when you woke up the next morning, you were met with at least a dozen messages from chanel.

[8:10 AM] chanel ♡: topper just dropped me off at home..

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: crazyyyyy night.. but anyways! me and you are going on a double date tonight. idk who topper is bringing but you don’t get to say no because love me, okay!?

[8:12 AM] chanel ♡: LMAO imagine it’s rafe

[8:18 AM] chanel ♡: omg you srsly need to wake up already and come over so you could help me choose an outfit!!

you continued reading through her texts, already dreading tonight’s plans as you decided to go ahead and get the day started so you could get this whole ‘date night’ thing over with. even though chanel jokingly said topper would bring rafe to be your date, you really hoped that wasn’t the case. the last thing you felt like doing was fighting or bickering with him because of your indifferences. after spending the afternoon rummaging through chanel’s closet, she finally settled on a dress that she hasn’t worn out before. “where are we even going?” you asked.

“topper said it’s a surprise so he’s picking both of us up from here.” she smiled, her words making you roll your eyes. you hated not knowing what you were getting yourself into. yet again, here you were, sexting with a stranger who just might not be a stranger after all. by the time topper texted chanel that he was outside, you two were in full glam, ready for whatever tonight may bring you. topper opened the doors for both of you, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you two. “we weren’t sure how to dress, sooo..” topper nodded, “yeah, i can see that.”

topper had on a casual outfit, a stark difference to the mini dresses and heels you and chanel currently wore. “now is probably a good time to tell us where we’re going.” you quipped from the backseat. at your cattiness, chanel flashed you a glare. “rafe offered up his boat, so i figured we’d just have a couple drinks, have a good time, ‘you know?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as chanel happily agreed. this was bullshit. not only did you have to spend the next few hours with rafe on his stupid boat, but you were sure this ‘double date’ was going to turn into a third wheeling act real fast.

fifteen minutes later, and rafe was reaching out to help you onto the druthers, an annoyed look written all over his face as you tossed your purse at him first. “what? i don’t want my bag to fall in the water, okay?!” taking hold of your hand, rafe caught a glimpse of your nails, the french tip design looking oddly familar. you squeezed his palm, stepping onto the deck with a sigh. topper and chanel had already made their way inside the cabin area, both of them laughing as they slid the door shut, leaving you and rafe all by yourselves. it was moments like these that made you wish you could be anywhere else.

rafe scanned your outfit, his eyes lingering on your cleavage before you turned around, annoyed. “i guess it’s a good thing topper didn’t mention i’d be spending majority of my night with you. ‘cause i wouldn’t have came.” you snatched your purse back, your heels clicking against the deck as you sat on one of the cushioned chairs near the lounging area. rafe grabbed his cooler, deciding to entertain your antics since all you two had was time. “mmm, i don’t know about that. apart of me thinks you like arguing with me. i know i do.” you scoffed, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips.

“yeah? i bet. female attention seems to be something you lack.” rafe laughed, taking a seat next to you. “oh, i can guarantee you that’s not the case.” he scooted closer, unscrewing the cap from his beer. yeah, right. you knew all about rafe’s inability to hold onto a relationship, rumors of his emotional unavailability spreading around the island like wildfire. “no? i’m sorry, i just assumed since, you know.. you’re a full time asshole.” rafe put his beer down, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed thickly. “only with you, i am.”

you laughed, finally meeting his gaze. he was a lot closer than you thought, his cologne filling your senses as your eyes flickered down to his lips for a second. “so i’m special then?” you had a faux innocent look in your eyes as you blinked up at him, the sight making his jaw clench. “no,” he smiled, leaning in, “but i can be nice. i can be real nice.” the insinuation made your cheeks heat as his face was just mere inches away from your own. tilting your head, you flashed him a sweet smile before shoving him in the chest.

“that’s never going to happen.” rafe acted like you didn’t have any effect on him, but inside? he was fighting every urge to pick you up and take you back to tanneyhill. he couldn’t help but feel like he knew you more than you let on, your demeanor reminding him of a certain someone. “can i ask why?” he watched as you grabbed his beer, your lipgloss smudging around the rim as you took a swig. “why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?” rafe leaned back in his chair, his thighs spreading as he crossed his arms over his chest.

well you definitely had a way with words..

rafe took the time to get a really good look at you. he had a feeling about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, the familiarity driving him crazy. he was determined to figure you out. “both.” he answered, taking his beer back from you. slipping your heels off, you brought your feet up and got comfortable in your spot next to rafe. “well i only realized i didn’t like you when i found out you had been talking about me first. so, really, i should be asking you why you don’t like me.”

rafe blinked. all this time he thought that you felt the way you did just because. “how come you never asked me then?” you stayed silent for a few moments before shrugging. “everyone has always made their assumptions about me. about my parents, about my life.. but no one really knows me, or what really goes on in my home. i just let people think whatever they want.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “what do you mean?” at his words, you realized you may have said too much.

putting your defense back up, you backed away from him slightly before you scoffed. “you’re the last person i’d ever confide in, rafe.” the man next to you immediately recognized what you did, having veered away from being vulnerable a countless amount of times himself. rafe couldn’t help but keep digging. “let’s go tit for tat, then. you tell me something, anything you want, and i’ll say something in return. ‘that way it’s an even exchange.” apart of you hated him for making this so easy.

“i’m not doing that with you.” your voice sounded different. it lacked that usual bite and now rafe felt bad for opening his mouth in the first place. before the awkward tension could settle over you two again, you got up with your phone in your hand. “where are you going?” rafe watched as you slid the door open to the cabin area. “inside. i need to make a phone call.” you lied, walking past chanel and topper who were aggressively making out on the couch in the corner.

locking the small bathroom door behind you, you sighed, taking a moment to let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. what even was that out there? unlocking your phone, you sent chanel a text that you wanted to leave even though the chances of her seeing it was extremely slim. you stalled, deciding to freshen up your makeup as you waited for this so-called ‘date’ to end already. you were reapplying your lip gloss when your phone went off, making you mutter a ‘thank god’. instead of the notification being a message back from your best friend who was currently getting her face sucked off, it was from tumblr instead.

[9:14 PM] countryclub: what are you doing right now? i could use someone to talk to rn ngl

you looked up from your screen and stared into your reflection. this message came at just the right time.

[9:15 PM] brattydiaries: that makes two of us. i’m not with the sweet talk rn though, but i could use a distraction right now for sure..

[9:16 PM] countryclub: define ‘sweet talk’ cause i had every intention of asking you for some sexy pics and maybe a phone call if you’re down with that?

you refrained from laughing at his text, his bluntness throwing you for a loop. you couldn’t deny the giddy feeling you had in your tummy when you thought about hearing his voice. biting your lip nervously, you pulled the neckline of your dress down, exposing the lace of your bra before snapping a few pictures.

[9:19 PM] brattydiaries: 3 attachments

[9:20 PM] brattydiaries: here’s the first half of your request. make me wet and just maybe i’ll accept the call..

rafe was outside on the deck looking over his shoulder every two seconds to make sure you weren’t coming back in time to see the explicit photos currently illuminating his screen. he cursed under his breath, his eyes raking over the soft swells of your breasts. you were so fucking perfect, he couldn’t believe you were so close yet so far.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: fuckk you’re unreal.

[9:22 PM] countryclub: i hate that i’m wrapped up with something right now, otherwise i’d be sending you paragraphs about how pretty your tits look for me.

you sighed in defeat, making a mental note to send him a text once you were finally in the comfort of your own bed. with you still in the bathroom, rafe took his time examining the photos, his eyes widening slightly as he zoomed in on the dainty diamond pendant of your necklace, the background looking like something he has seen before.

[9:25 PM] brattydiaries: aww, too bad.

just then, chanel knocked on the bathroom door, her hair looking slightly out of place once you opened it. “i just saw your text. you ready to go?” you nodded, adjusting your dress before stepping out. “sorry to cock block you, i just had a really weird moment with rafe.” you explained, tossing your phone back in your purse. chanel waved you off before interlocking her arm with yours. “don’t even worry about it, we’re going back to his place, anyways.” she reassured you.

topper was already outside on the deck once you two made your way out of the cabin. glancing at rafe, you quickly looked away once you saw that he was already staring at you. “well, thanks for letting us use the druthers.” chanel smiled, in which rafe just shook his head. “ah, don’t even worry about it,” he held your stare, “..i had a good time.” blinking away from him, rafe’s eyes caught onto your cleavage once again, except this time; a sparkle from right above your neckline took him out of his reverie.

that necklace..

before he could piece anything together, you were moving with chanel, not sparing rafe another look as you were getting back onto the dock. the car ride back to your place was deadly silent. all except for the music topper had playing in the background. by the time you had gotten home and showered, you felt your world come to a stand still when your phone started ringing, an unsaved number with kildare island’s area code showing up at the top.

accepting the call, you held up the receiver to your ear with a shaky hand before speaking.

“hello?”

“..you sound pretty.”

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[gf2bellamy]

bet — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you and spencer have a bet on who is going to be the first to expose your relationship content warnings: mention of a victim a/n: when i tell you this took me ages omg i was struggling

You and Spencer had a bet. 

A ridiculous, entirely unnecessary bet—but a bet nonetheless.

The stakes? Bragging rights, and the satisfaction of being able to tease the other endlessly.

The challenge? Who would be the first to slip up and accidentally reveal your secret relationship to the rest of the BAU team. 

Both of you knew that secrecy wasn’t exactly your strong suit. Between Spencer’s tendency to ramble when nervous and your habit of wearing your emotions like a neon sign, it was only a matter of time before someone pieced it all together.

And that was what made the bet so much fun—because neither of you wanted to be the one to crack first. 

Some mishaps had already happened, moments that came far too close to giving you both away. 

Like the time Derek had caught Spencer staring at you during a team briefing. “Hey, Pretty Boy, you got something to add, or are you just lost in thought over there?” Derek had teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. Spencer, predictably, had flushed a deep shade of red and stumbled over a vague response. 

And, of course, who could forget the case in Chicago when Hotch had walked into the room just as Spencer had brushed a strand of hair out of your face? The gesture had been so natural, so tender, that even Hotch had paused for a fraction of a second before continuing his sentence. You could’ve sworn he’d given you a knowing glance, though he hadn’t said a word. 

Right now, you were sitting at your desk, trying (and failing) to focus on finishing your report on the case from two days ago.

“Spence, what was the address of the place where we found the second victim?” you asked, tapping your pen on the paper as you glanced up at your boyfriend sitting across from you at his desk.

“1375 Oakridge Drive,” he replied almost automatically, barely looking up from his own report.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, jotting it down and trying not to get distracted by the little curl of hair falling onto his forehead.

The bullpen was unusually quiet, save for the faint clacking of keyboards and the low hum of the coffee machine.

That peace didn’t last long, though, as Derek and Garcia burst into the room, engaged in what sounded like a very enthusiastic debate. 

“Reid, listen to this!” Derek called out, cutting across the bullpen as Penelope trailed behind him, waving her arms dramatically. Both you and Spencer instinctively looked up from your work.

“Okay,” Derek began, leaning one arm casually on the divider of Spencer’s desk. “Do you think watching a rom-com with someone is romantic?” 

“Specifically with a friend,” Penelope interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because apparently, Mr. ‘Romance Expert’ here thinks it is!” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “Come on, Penelope. It can be romantic. I mean, think about it—it’s all cozy, emotional, and half the time someone ends up crying or sharing popcorn. You’re telling me that doesn’t create a vibe?” 

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. He sat up straighter, adjusting his tie slightly as he considered his answer. 

“Well,” he began, his voice contemplative, “the concept of watching a romantic comedy doesn’t inherently equate to a romantic interaction. However, if the participants have underlying romantic feelings, the environment—such as sharing an intimate space or engaging in emotional dialogue—could certainly facilitate a sense of connection. For example, I—” 

He froze mid-sentence, his brain catching up with his mouth as he realized where he was going. 

Oh no. 

Your eyes widened in panic as you watched Spencer flounder. His lips parted as though he might try to backtrack, but the damage was already done. 

“For example…?” Derek prompted, his brows shooting up, clearly intrigued. 

Spencer quickly cleared his throat, fumbling for a save. “Uh, hypothetically. I mean, generally speaking. Like, if two people…were, um, interested in each other—not me, of course—then maybe…” His voice trailed off as he glanced at you. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, knowing full well that he was treading dangerously close to losing the bet. 

Derek narrowed his eyes, studying Spencer for a moment. “Hmm,” he said slowly, drawing out the syllable. “You’re acting a little weird there. Something you wanna share with the class?” 

“Nope!” Spencer said quickly, shaking his head so forcefully it made his curls bounce. “Absolutely nothing.” 

Penelope raised an eyebrow, looking between you and Spencer with suspicion. “Uh-huh. If you say so.” 

You decided to intervene before they could dig any deeper. “Alright, Garcia, what’s your stance on the rom-com thing?” you asked, redirecting the conversation. 

The distraction worked, and Penelope launched into an impassioned argument, effectively pulling Derek’s attention away from Spencer.

You shot Spencer a look across the desks, mouthing close call. He gave you an apologetic shrug, his cheeks still faintly pink. 

Two days later, you made the mistake. The one that was ten times worse than the rom-com slip-up Spencer had made. 

You were in the file room, buried in paperwork that Hotch had assigned to you earlier that morning. The hours had been long and draining, and you’d barely made a dent in the pile.

Derek was there too, flipping through some files, his eyes narrowing in concentration, while Garcia sat at the table, her usual flair of colorful banter filling the otherwise quiet room.

She wasn’t doing much work, but she was keeping the rest of you entertained with her gossip. 

“This is tiring,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you stretched and yawned, your eyes heavy from exhaustion.

You handed Derek a file, trying to keep your energy up, though it was clear you weren’t succeeding. 

Spencer, who had been quietly scanning through a set of documents, glanced up at you, and then took a step closer. “You should go take a break and grab a coffee,” he suggested, his voice warm and concerned. “I’ll take these off your hands.” 

You spun around to face him, smiling at the sight of him standing there, his sleeves rolled up and his hair slightly tousled.

His expression was a mixture of concern and adoration, and you couldn’t help the little flutter in your chest. 

You smiled at him, genuinely grateful for the offer. You’d been working for hours, and the fatigue was beginning to take its toll. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft with appreciation. Without thinking, you leaned in slightly and planted a quick kiss on Spencer's cheek, your hand instinctively resting on his face—something you'd done countless times without giving it much thought.

The moment your lips brushed his skin, time seemed to slow. You pulled back almost immediately, but not fast enough. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up into Spencer’s eyes, wide and shocked.

His brown eyes were locked on yours, the same stunned expression mirroring your own. 

It was like a slow-motion realization hit you both at the exact same time—you just kissed him. 

Before either of you could process what had happened, a loud gasp echoed from behind you. 

“Oh my god!” Garcia squealed, her voice thick with excitement. 

You felt your face burn as you snapped your eyes shut, feeling a flush creep up your neck. You could practically hear Derek’s mischievous chuckle follow suit. 

Spencer's back stiffened, and you knew exactly what was coming next. 

“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice rang out, full of teasing amusement, “Look what we got here” His tone was almost dramatic as he clapped Spencer on the back. 

“Way to go, my man! Getting the girl!” Derek cheered loudly. 

You dropped your hand from Spencer’s face to his chest, your shoulders slumping as you sighed loudly.

It was out in the open now—so much for the bet. 

Penelope’s voice cut through the air like a burst of confetti. “I knew it! I’ve been saying it for months, but nobody would listen to me!”

She was practically bouncing on her feet as she grinned at the both of you, clearly pleased with herself. 

Spencer gave you a nervous but warm smile. You could tell he was about to say something, but before he could, you were swarmed by both Derek and Garcia. 

“I knew you two were adorable,” Garcia squealed, pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh my god, you two are going to be so cute together.” 

Derek, on the other hand, ruffled Spencer’s hair. “I’m proud of you, man.” 

You could feel your pulse racing as you glanced at Spencer, who was doing his best to keep his usual composure, but the hint of a smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

He gave you a look that could only be described as amused exasperation, as if asking, Well, I guess we don’t need to worry about hiding it anymore, do we? 

A quiet laugh escaped your lips. Spencer’s smile softened as his hand reached for yours.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured softly, leaning in a bit closer to him. “I didn’t mean for this to—” 

He cut you off with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his voice just low enough for only you to hear. “It’s okay,” he whispered, “I think it’s about time they found out.” 

Later that night, you and Spencer were lying in bed. Your head rested on his chest, and your fingers absentmindedly drew soft circles over his chest as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

His hand was gently resting around your waist, his thumb lightly brushing over the skin of your arm. 

"Today was fun," you murmured into his chest, the sound muffled but sincere. 

“A lot of fun,” he chuckled, the vibration of his laugh resonating through his chest. 

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, remembering the teasing from Derek and Garcia, and the way everything had just spilled out into the open.

“I for sure thought you’d be the one to lose the bet,” you teased, your voice light and playful. 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a soft smile. "I didn’t," he said, his voice playful but confident. 

“Why is that?” you asked, lifting your head just enough to prop yourself up on your elbow. Spencer met your gaze, his smile never wavering.

He was looking down at you with that soft affection that always made your heart skip a beat, but there was something teasing behind his eyes now. 

"You're more obvious than me," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers, the touch tender. 

You immediately furrowed your brow, sitting up a little straighter. “No I’m not,” you said, a playful frown tugging at your lips. 

But the moment his fingers gently brushed your hair again, any trace of the playful frown disappeared. A warm smile spread across your face, unable to resist the effect his touch had on you. 

Spencer tilted his head, his eyes glinting with that teasing spark you knew so well. “Oh really?” he said, his voice laced with amusement, his gaze never leaving yours. 

You rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your face betrayed you. “Okay, maybe,” you admitted with a mock sigh, before leaning back down onto his chest. 

Spencer’s laughter rumbled softly in his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

You snuggled closer to him, your face against his chest once more, feeling the beat of his heart beneath you.

"Goodnight, Spence," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Goodnight," he replied, his hand gently squeezing your waist as he kissed your forehead one last time. 

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul

in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members

➺ bitchin - by @kinktae

summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien

summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton

summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts

summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts

summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces

➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie

summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons

summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

➺ changes in between - by @taegularities

summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie

summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild

summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae

summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.

➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash

summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.

➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates

summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

[ennabear]

loser! sev getting all whiny and pathetic when she eats you out, rutting her hips against the mattress, cumming in her pants, accidentally overstimulating you like crazy because she's just loves it so much.

accidentally overstimulating HERSELF from eating you out?????? GODDDDDDD

HEHEHEH i said i was gonna respond to these as small little thoughts but i wanna write a real blurb about this because. wow. so true and real it brought tears to my eyes. THANK U FOR THISSSS i wish i could keep it in my asks forever hehehe… 18+

your wife has had one of the worst weeks of her life. the undercity has just completely gone rogue ever since silco has passed, and every effort she’s made to have everyone band together against topside is just worthless. nobody wants to listen to her, too obsessed with their own personal drama to see the bigger picture.

to make matters worse, she’s had to keep jinx under control too. when sevika imagined silco’s death, she didn’t imagine him leaving jinx in the will. and as if the sudden addition of jinx into her life wasn’t enough to stir the pot, jinx has found her own stray now too.

she’s exhausted. sick of sleepless nights spent erasing and rewriting silco’s mistakes, the bitter frost lingering in the streets leaving everyone in a tense and irritable mood. of fucking course she’s the one who has to deal with it, nobody else wants to take a stand or set things straight.

seeing her this way breaks your heart. she barely comes home anymore, usually to be found slumped over silco’s desk with a half empty bottle of whiskey at her side. her arm thrown across the table, an empty promise of getting it fixed and reattached hanging over her head. what she really needs is a new arm, but she refuses to take smeech up on his offer.

god damn it, your wife is so fucking stubborn. it turns you on immensely. because she’s loyal. she’s offered a brand new arm with all of the bells and whistles she could ever ask for, as long as she turns in jinx. easiest job ever, and she’s never liked the blue haired kid anyways. yet, she stands her ground. instead she’s been taking insults like “a bird without wings is just a funny lookin’ rat.” and trying to navigate her life with only one half of herself.

but tonight, she’s gonna make her absence up to you. she wanders home through the dark streets and alleys of zaun, straight to your shared doorstep. one could barely call it a house, as there weren’t really any dwellings that have survived this long in the undercity without being overtaken by moss and vines or crumbled to pieces— but it certainly was a home. especially when she gets to walk in and see you looking cozy and domestic.

you stare up at her when she saunters through the door, a crease between her brows and wet, red eyes painting her face as usual. she sighs, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. in an instant, she’s in your arms again. just the way you like it. without a word, you massage her temples as she nuzzles her face deeper into your hold. your touch is magic, she can feel the month long migraine she’s had suddenly disintegrating.

before she can stop it, before she even realizes what’s happening, hot streams of tears leak out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. you coo at her and swipe them all away, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as a reminder of your love. yeah, it’s been a day or two since you’ve seen her, and sure, it’s been even longer since you’ve been on a date or had any sort of alone time, but you know that it isn’t personal. she’s trying her best, even if that means stumbling over her words and tripping over her feet.

“bad day, huh?” you ask, another kiss to the top of her head.

“bad week, bad month, bad year…” she responds with a sniffle. “i just wanna be close to you.”

she peeks up at you though her wet eyelashes, some of her black eye makeup smudged around her eyes. you giggle at her, she’s so fucking adorable. and so sweet, so hardworking, so gentle. before you can muster out an ‘i love you’, she bolts forward and catches your lips in a sweet kiss, pinning you to the couch.

“sev, god, you’re so needy.” you pant when she finally releases your lips to catch her breath.

“i’ve missed you, shit. wanna taste you so bad.”

with that, she shoves your pants down, already eagerly sucking bruises into your neck. you groan, you’ve forgotten how good your wife’s touch feels. a big, warm hand wraps around your own, and although they’re rough and cracked, you’ve never felt anything softer. tears threaten to spill out of your own eyes with the amount of love and adrenaline pumping through your veins, but sevika grounds you by shuffling on top of you.

you think she’s about to sit her cunt on top of yours as she strips herself of her pants, but you’re mistaken, and you realize this when she whimpers out a little “hand me that” and nods toward one of the pillows behind you.

confused and turned on as you are, you do as she asks and hand her a throw pillow which instantly gets shoved between her thighs. she wastes no time in diving forward to lick up all of your arousal, her eyes growing starry as a little string of white connects itself from your clit to the tip of her nose. you almost faint. fuck, you’ve missed her face, even more what it can do to you. so you buck your hips up and slowly grind yourself against her face, sevika matching your pace with her own hips.

in an instant, she’s lost in the pleasure— more specifically the taste of you and the slow grind of her cunt against the pillow. moans vibrate through your folds as she buries her face between your spread legs, and you whimper, already embarrassingly close to the finish line.

surprisingly, sevika cums first, the pillow cradling her wet cunt as she humps against it in time with her licks and sucks. that doesn’t stop her, and she doesn’t even stop after you cum and start yanking her head away out of intense pleasure. she can’t stop, though, not now. she’s in too deep. literally. her tongue is buried inside of you and her nose runs over your clit with every thrust, her mind absolutely racing with emotional thoughts and horny feelings.

“sevika, please!” you grunt, her grip on your hips is relentless. “babe, i already came, that’s enough.” but judging by the way she completely ignores you, you wonder if she even heard you at all.

she whines when you tug on her hair or push her shoulders away with the heels of you feet, her face completely melted to your cunt. she never stops fucking her pillow, and now her clit is red and rubbed raw by the cloth. she doesn’t know how many orgasms she’s had, it could range between three and twenty. she lost count when she came for the umpteenth time after you pulled her hair and moaned her name at the same time.

tears spill from her eyes again, but this time they’re happy tears. god, she’s missed you, and she doesn’t ever wanna stop. you take her face in your hands when you notice the sobs and sniffles she’s letting out, along with more whimpers and groans. this time, she relents, slowing her own hips first and then licking up the rest of the cum and spit between your thighs.

“sev, baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, concerned that maybe you hurt her or she hurt herself.

“i just missed you…” she starts. “and i love you so much.” she crawls up your body and lays her head on your stomach while you both catch your breath, the pillow being discarded on the floor. your fingers work wonders on her scalp, and she almost falls asleep after half an hour of matching her breathing to yours.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” you warn, although you’ve been yawning more than she has. “you still need to carry me to bed and tuck me in like a gentleman.”

“you might have to be the gentleman tonight,” she giggles. “i don’t think my legs are sturdy enough to carry us to the bedroom right now.”