#i hold my breath to hear how it's sung

[kiisuuumii]

Richard Siken, "Saying Your Names," Crush

[rafesangelita]

♡ “have you ever tried this one?” in which kook!sweetheart!reader convinces rafe to take her to go see one of her favorite artists, and as a ‘thank you’ she and rafe have to do whatever position sabrina demo’s for her song “juno”..

warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink (?)

a/n: so sad because i didn’t get to see sabrina on tour, and she has had me in the meanest chokehold lately :( click this link to see what position i’m referring to <3

when the dates dropped for sabrina’s ‘short n’ sweet’ tour, rafe wasted no time in buying you two tickets. of course, you didn’t know this and begged him for weeks until he finally told you yes, your flight and hotel room already booked for a nice little weekend getaway. rafe helped you make your concert outfit, both of you spending hours on the whole ensemble. the end result was absolutely stunning and rafe couldn’t stop taking pictures of you.

he posted one on the night of the concert, captioning it ‘my little popstar princess <3’ and you two were off to the stadium. while you knew wearing sparkly white platform boots wouldn’t be the best choice to walk in, you stuck it through, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, any kind of discomfort you felt had melted away as you were far too distracted singing along to every song that boomed through the venue.

babydoll lingerie top with pink fluffy trim, dedazzled stockings, glittery makeup, your hair freshly done, rafe swore you never looked prettier. even though he was against wearing anything that sparkled, he decided to wear a plain pink t-shirt to match with you in his own little way. he kept his arms wrapped around your waist as you two sung, having learned the lyrics to every song since you insisted on being in charge of the aux cord whenever you two were in his truck.

eventually, you two were swaying softly, rafe’s chin resting in the curve of your neck as you stroked the skin of his arm. “thank you for bringing me here.” you smiled up at him, connecting your lips as the intro to ‘juno’ started playing. rafe hummed, leaning down so you could hear him. “you know i had to bring you, baby.. what do you say you thank me another way when we get back to our room?” your cheeks heated as you laughed softly.

“yeah, i’d like that,” you pecked his cheek, “how about we do the position she does for the song?” rafe smiled, both of you fixing your attention on the stage. you waited with anticipation, your heart beating in your ears when she bent over and touched her toes. rafe cheered, making you laugh as he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. luckily for him, there was only a few more songs left before the show ended and the two of you rushed out of there.

it wasn’t long after you two walked through the door that rafe had your boots thrown in a forgotten corner, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he took you roughly from behind. you struggled to keep your hands placed on your perfectly pedicured toes, your knees threatening to give out from under you while rafe thrusted into you at an unforgiving pace. “holy fuck, you’re taking it so fuckin’ good, gorgeous, ‘might just let you get off your tippy toes and put you on your back instead.”

you cried out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his pelvis smacked against the back of your ass. “can’t, rafe!” you shrieked, nearly doubling over before your boyfriend reached down and grabbed your arms, holding you by your wrists as you hung helplessly from his grip. he was fucking you stupid, and your lack of thoughts was proof of it. you couldn’t think, the feeling of rafe’s cock stroking that soft gummy spot inside of you made you whimper pathetically.

finally, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your knees meeting the carpeted floor. rafe picked you up, cursing under his breath as he encouraged you to get back in position. “promise i’ll have you in bed soon, pretty, you could hold out for me, yeah?” you shuddered, looking at him from behind your shoulder with that fucked-out gaze he loved so much. you had tears in your eyes, your body glitter still sparkling under the soft lighting.

giving him a little nod, you reached down once again, holding onto your ankles for dear life as rafe circled an arm under your hips, holding you up as his fingers started working on your clit. “oh!” you were in hysterics, your blood rushing to your head as he landed a harsh smack to your backside. “come on, baby, ‘wanna feel this pussy squeeze around me.” you moaned at his words, your orgasm just in arm’s reach as rafe’s thrusts grew uncalculated. “rafe?” you could barely speak, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“talk to me.” he groaned, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. “make me juno?” you giggled for a split second, the insinuation only turning rafe on even more. “fuck, yeah? ‘want me to fill you up, give you a baby?” you let out a distorted “mhmm!’, the two of you gasping when your highs took you both to cloud nine. rafe pulled you back up, your chest rising and falling while your legs shook with your orgasm. pressing wet kisses to your neck, rafe did exactly as he said, his hips stuttering as hot, thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls.

you two stayed like this, pressed against one another until your breathing slowed, the aftershocks subsiding before rafe laid you both down in bed. “we should have a ‘short n’ sweet’ themed baby shower.. we could serve espressos.” rafe laughed, draping an arm over your tummy. “we’ll see.” he hummed. your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed him in, his cologne still heavy on his skin. “you know what we should try when we get back home?” rafe traced shapes into your side, mumbling a ‘what’s that?’

“pink fuzzy handcuffs.”

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) yandere enha when they find you ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ enhypen finding you after you run away ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈 hyungline・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror ‎, angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎stalking , kidnapping , threats wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. another request my dumb ass deleted ◉⁠‿⁠◉ ...

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

he knew were you were the entire time; i've said this many of times , heeseung is crazy and he loves to play crazy mind games — games such as making a fake a dating account just to find you and match with you. he will literally wait it out , swipe through as many girls as he had to until he found you. you were excited to get back into dating , the guy you were talking to was completely different to heeseung , getting ready for your first date with him , everything felt like a breath of fresh air. at the restaurant you were looking down at your phone , not noticing the familiar sitting down with that crazy smile. “is that anyway to greet your date?” your eyes shot up. “hee-heeseung?” your voice shaking as you see him holding his phone — with the account of the guy on the screen. “did you really think you could run away from me?” he laughed , your eyes began to tear up.

“no don't cry baby, we'll still have a good night before i take you home and give you your welcome home gift.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

a serious inconvenience for him , he gives you everything and you dare leave him? okay that's fine , he'll let you have your fun , he won't even cancel the credit card he gave you , because that's exactly how he was gonna catch you. he waited until you order a purchase offline , and he was able to get the details to your new apartment a month later — normally he'd just send his guys to come get you ,but this time he wanted to be the one to drag you back home. “j-jay.” you saw the man in the suit standing in your door. “you try and run away from me , but you use the card i pay for to make your stupid little purchases. “jay please.” he doesn't want to hear it. “you've cause so much trouble already, people are already talking about how I can't control you.”

“now let's go, I'll have someone come and pack your shit.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

it was basically a miracle that jake was still alive , he barely did anything since you left , he only ate to stay alive , he only showered just in case you walked through the door. it had been two months since you left him , yelling how much you hated him before running out the door , leaving the sobbing boy on the floor. he was fully ready to take his life — but almost as if god was on his side , you come walking out of your favorite store. you had finally felt safe enough to go out and shop , jake hadn't tried to call you , of course you tried not to worry if he actually did end it all but you never got a call. you walk right past jake , you didn't even notice him that's how different he looked. jake followed you home , all the way up to your door , where he finally runs up to you. “yn!” he shouted. “yn why'd you leave me?” you try to open the door, but the look in his eyes. “j-jake.”

“please come home , i don't know how much longer i can do it without you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon was too impulsive to let you go on for more than a month , so you quite literally have to go into hiding , never leaving your apartment; even moving from the apartment he knew about to another one , one you thought he'd never find — boy how wrong you were. still held up in your apartment , constantly looking at the door. one day you finally feel a little a peace , not enough to leave, but enough to order your favorite food. you heard a knock , which makes you get up and go towards it. you still check the camera you installed and what you see outside makes your blood run cold. “hi baby.” the boy bangs on the door. “i found you.” he said. “sung-sunghoon.” you stuttered out. “don't dare pick up that phone and call anyone.” he said , leaning closer to the camera. “you moved but your parents haven't.”

“now open the door if you love them.”

©LUVYENI

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 187 }

not a want but a need.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: an unedited, 18+ thirst post / drabble

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

anonymous said: Yandere... Jinwoo who keeps kissing reader's clit after making her cum for the nth time just to see her squirm and cry. I'm so sorry +thrusting his dick inside her slowly but harshly that you hear it slap because he likes seeing the wonderful effect he has on her, how she cries and shake, but keeps herself silent bc she likes it I'm so sorry again 😭😆

your mind was already hazy the moment sung jinwoo slides another one of his thick fingers into your wet heat, swirling the digit around as his hot mouth was felt sucking at your swollen bundle of nerves.

your body was a mess for him, with a symphony of moans falling from your parted lips as jinwoo continued his onslaught of pleasure on your sensitive form.

as if addicted to the mere taste of you, you felt the way jinwoo’s tongue carefully explored your pussy lips, drinking up your honeyed arousal while letting out a guttural groan of satisfaction. even when he lazily thrust his finger in and out of your core, never once quickening his pace, your sensitive body still reacted as you came for what seemed like the millionth time.

the sheets were utterly ruined thanks to the sheer amount of times you had came throughout the night, and you could feel the droplets of your tears clinging to your lashes as you struggled to even breathe.

“jinwoo jinwoo jinwoo…!” your voice was in a drunken haze, shivering when you could hear jinwoo gulping up all your had to offer, your hands weakly tugging at his hair as his face remained buried between your spread legs.

“fuck, you taste so damn good, sarang. better than all the sweets in the world.” jinwoo finally removes himself from the spot between your legs, lips still shining with the evidence of your release as the sight of it was enough to make you bite down harshly against your lip.

“jinwoo-“

you were cut off by jinwoo when he takes a hold of your ankles, pressing your naked body against his. you could feel the outline of his muscles pressing against your form, making you let out a shaky moan in response. along with his muscles, you could feel the way his cock became painfully hard for you, its mushroom tip appearing almost an angry red in color as droplets of a cloudy fluid was seen escaping from its tip.

“look at what my pretty girl did to me… you feel that? i’m practically throbbing and oozing for you.” as if to prove his point, jinwoo proceeds to run the length of his dick up and down your silken walls, collecting the prior evidence of your release against his shaft. you gasp upon feeling every inch of him, with his cock’s prominent veins felt pulsating against your swollen cunt. your mouth goes dry upon feeling such friction, and it was enough to make you toss your head in response, back already arching against the bed as jinwoo kept teasing you.

“fuck… i can’t wait to sink into you… i fucking need you.”

with those whispered words as your final warning, jinwoo angles his cock and thrusts into you with an expert precision, the mushroom tip of his cock already hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. you were already seeing stars as jinwoo proceeded to make love to you, his pace slow, but powerful. the squelching sound of his cock sliding in and out of you was enough to make your face heat up and head spin, clinging to the sheets with such force that you swore you nearly ripped the fabric.

he takes his time sliding his thick and long cock in and out of you, seeming to become hypnotized by the wet sounds that emits from your cunt each time his hips meet with yours. a hazy expression was seen on his face when he suddenly keeps your hips still before pistoning his cock in and out of you at a breakneck pace.

you could feel your breasts bouncing along with his movements, a dark chuckle filling at the air as he keeps up with his passionate speed and thrusts, never once slowing down even when you fell apart for him.

you felt him slam into that soft spot once more and knew that you were a goner, your cries and moans of his name echoing throughout the area as you felt your warm, love juices escape out of you.

“oh gods, jinwoo!” even with your walls clenching so sweetly around him, jinwoo doesn’t cease his movements, seeming to grow even bigger inside of my before laying back on the bed, grabbing a hold of your waist while proceeding to literally bounce you up and down his cock (completely and utterly using you as his own personal fleshlight.)

“i’ll never got tired of this… just feeling you surrounding me so sweetly like this-“ he cuts himself off, letting out another dark chuckle. “this is better than heaven. me sheathing my cock inside you hasn’t become a want at this point, but a need.”

he continues bouncing you up and down his massive length, licking his lips upon seeing the outline of his dick hidden within your abdomen as he kept you in this position, making sure that you came for a second time before shoving your body on its back once more.

with both of your legs being held by jinwoo, he continues to drill himself into you. by now, you lost count of the sheer amount of times you came, with jinwoo never once stopping or softening his cock. in fact, it seemed as though the more you came, the harder he felt while buried deep inside of you.

“fuck, jinwoo… you haven’t even came once… y-you’re a fucking monster- ah!”

your boyfriend continues to let out a rich chuckle, finally leaning down as you felt his toned chest lay across your breasts that still bounced in tune with his unhinged thrusts. “i must be blessed with a massive amount of stamina with this s-rank body. you should just sit back and enjoy it, my love. use me as your own personal dildo if you must.”

upon hearing his dark words, you couldn’t stop yourself from climaxing once more, eyes rolling near the back of your head at the intense sensation while the tears practically stained at your damp cheeks. basking in such pleasure, you simply allowed jinwoo to play your body like his own personal instrument while begging for him to never stop.

a.n. - thirsty, so damn thirsty for my man… i love him so much please 🫠

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[saeun]

food for thought, except it’s unwanted jujutsu kaisen : fem-reader.

have you ever wondered about a scenario so much that you must ask? well that’s exactly the last thing they’d wish to answer.

+ love ‘su: gojo, geto, itadori + ‘live, laugh, love’ hater final boss ( sukuna )

gojo satoru ﾉ refuses to answer.

“do you ever think about how it’d be if we never met?”

“ha— no. don’t even go there.”

satoru stops you there. he doesn’t wish to hear another word from you— especially if it extends your former question. he thinks about it— daily, in fact. it's a scenario that crosses his mind whenever he finds himself drunk on the temporary love he receives from you.

you’ve sung the lyric ‘i’ll love you until there’s no more left’ almost every week for him, silently begging that he gets the concept of genuine love through his head.

“why not? imagine if my friends didn’t make that bet where i either hit on you or pay for the night.” you reminisced, remembering the very night you lost the last touch of shame.

he hums, drumming his fingers on your thigh.

“bet or not, we’d still be fated to meet. next question!”

“anddd what makes you so confident?” you threw another question at him. this time, it's lighthearted.

“mind you, i’m the second coming of an angel. i predetermined this since three years ago.”

glances were exchanged, an expression of a grinning fool met the expression of a glaring responsible person who’s the said fool’s other romantic half.

you should've been familiar with satoru’s ways. it’s your fault for expecting a deep-dive conversation with satoru. not quite his cup of tea!

geto suguru ﾉ expects it and tries to escape.

suguru's home was no new, unexplored area to you. you knew his home's blueprint like the back of your hand. if needed, you'd walk through his home blindfolded and still end up in the room you want to be in.

this isn't a good thing to suguru. there are days where the feeling of confusion as to who he is piles up on him, leading him to isolate himself.. until he forgets there's a spare key of his isolation cube in your hold so now the plan goes awry.

that is exactly what’s happening. after he sent the text ‘k bye’ and silenced his notifications, he felt an impending doom. the reason was unknown by then but he should've guessed it was you.

you marched into his home, readying yourself with suguru-loneliness-begone techniques and, of course, the question that's been wandering your mind since you woke up from a dream.

“babe, what if—”

“fuck,” he curses under his breath, too exhausted to put a hand over your mouth.

“what if we were the last persons on earth? would you recreate humanity with me or kill yourself?”

there it is: your special ‘what if’ questions that know no bounds when it comes to absurdity.

“when would that ever happen? please, stop this,” he groans, pleading with his eyes for you to stop.

“that's the thing— you never know! so, what option is it?”

“i'd kill myself a long time ago if possible.”

“so it's the second one?”

“i'm... not cut out to be a good father.”

“i hate an indecisive bitch, my goodness,” it's your turn to complain, a little let down at his grey answers.

suguru's equally offended. you're the one who jumped him with such a question— who even thinks about that?!

“(y/n), baby, has it ever crossed your mind that your thinking skills aren't quite normal?”

“are you calling me stupid?!”

itadori yuuji ﾉ just as stupid.

it's mango season— yuuji's most anticipated season of the year. mangoes are to yuuji what your lipbalm is to you. a necessity, a survival item, a lifesaver, an important part of his lore, something he worships.

peeling mangoes and slicing them to equal pieces has never brought him such satisfaction before. it immediately brightens his mood. this must be how his grandfather felt whenever he took a walk around the neighbourhood.

now you appear, yuuji's second most anticipated person. you to yuuji is what mangoes are to him. this causes yuuji's current happiness level to reach its peak today. such a great level of happiness can defeat any evil being with just being in its area.

“say, yuu,” you begin, stabbing one of the mangoe slices with a fork.

he nods, signalling that he's listening but still focused on his current activity. a true mulit-tasker.

“if one of your limbs happen to detach from your body, do you feel the pain or does the pain go with it?”

he stops, allowing the question to sink in. he's never been asked such a.. divine question before. what's the answer? does the pain go with the limb or does it stay?

“oh... i gotta ask nobara this, she'd know,” he suggests, placing the knife down. a question that'll haunt him if he doesn't act quick for the answer.

“yes, yes!!” you encourage his actions, mindlessly enjoying the mango slices. mangoes are truly a blessing.

sukuna ryomen ﾉ no. nice try, though! A+ for effort.

“ryo, have you ever wondered if—”

“no, i never.”

“you didn't even let—”

“i haven't learnt since two-thousand years ago.”

“you old fuck, let me finish—”

“it's truly been a while since i've wondered.”

“DAMN, BITCH!”

you threw the remote at him, ultimately fed up with him cutting you off before the peak of the sentence. it could've been the question of the year and he'd still dodge it.

sukuna invited himself over since he ran out of entertainment options and you're always there for him. unfortunately, you do not find him as entertainin. he's annoying, arrogant, and attractive so it cancels out the negatives about him.

of course, sukuna caught the remote. his athletic capabilities are its prime despite him being dormant for centuries. it'd be a white lie to say he's not interested in your question, however it is way more benefitting to push your buttons.

he throws the remote back onto your bed, drying his hands with your hand-towel before making his merry way to you.

“your bed's small.”

“well no shit. it's for ME.”

“you mad? you look mad.” his hand holds your chin, turning your head side-to-side to observe your expression.

you rolled your eyes, “i don't get mad that easily.”

“is this how people felt when i told them an obvious lie? i should repent.”

[honeylations]

BAEK HARIN x FEM!READER

Prompt: You let her bully you but you know deep down she doesn’t mean it because she’s just trying to uphold her reputation as the school’s IT girl

Warnings/Notes: secret relationship, smut, fingering, F Grade reader, red flag Harin, smoking, reader gets burnt with a cigarette

A/N: IT’S HAPPENING PEOPLE. It’s time to showcase how down bad I am for this woman.

Your eyes were glued to your feet in fear as you were corned in the classroom by Dayeon and Wooyi, each holding a pair of kitchen scissors.

As always, everyone minded their own business, knowing that they shouldn’t interfere with whatever an A Grader is doing. You started to shake, tears welling up in your eyes when Dayeon took the sharp end of her scissors and dragged it lightly from your jaw to your chin.

“You know when I was younger, I loved styling my Barbie doll’s hair. My dad would always buy me a new one because I’d cut each one’s hair until they were bald and ugly….wanna be my new Barbie doll, Y/n?” Dayeon whispered.

Wooyi brushed her knuckles against your smooth face, admiring how clear and flawless it was. “It’s such a shame you got 0 votes. You’re so pretty Y/n-ah…all of that beauty about to go to waste”

Harin gripped her book as she remained glued to her seat, trying to mind her own business like she always does, but hearing the two girl’s threats/back handed compliments was slowly boiling her blood.

She’d allow any A Rank to bully anyone but once it came to you, her rule would change.

You’re her special girl.

That’s only for you to know at least.

Harin can’t bear to imagine how her reputation would be if the truth was out. She truly loved you but she loved this pyramid game just as much.

And you couldn’t argue with her about it. Whatever made your Harin happy, made you happy.

“I think we should give her short hair like Do-Ah” Dayeon winked, making Wooyi laugh.

Your clenched fists stayed by your sides when the took a chunk of your hair and steadying the scissors against it.

“Yah, that’s enough” Suji spoke up with arms crossed, making Dayeon roll her eyes.

“Don’t you have anything better to do other than meddling with us?” The green haired girl scoffed but Suji pushed the other two away before standing in front of you.

“How am I supposed to do well in class when I can’t even focus? Are you that dumb to not complete a simple test, Dayeon-ah? And Wooyi, if you’re gonna try to be the prettiest girl in this school, then find a better cardigan”

Wooyi cursed under her breath and held the scissors like a knife, taking a step closer to Suji just before Harin slammed her book on her desk and stood up.

“Kim Dayeon, Bang Wooyi. Enough.”

The two looked at Harin and gulped, seeing her approach them with her bitchy stare.

“She needs to know her place, Harin. I think she’ll look good with blood all over her body” Wooyi growled but Suji didn’t falter, only sending the short haired girl a middle finger.

“If you two don’t listen to me right now, I’ll make sure you move down to D Grade in the next voting.”

Looking between all of them, you noticed Harin was now staring at you as her minions ran off to their designated seat but Suji remained in front of you.

“You too, Sung Suji. Everything’s handled, you can go back to your seat” Harin ordered.

“And what, let you torment Y/n? I don’t think so”

“What makes you think I’ll do that?”

“I can see through you, Baek Harin. I’ll seriously kill you if I see burn marks on more people like you did with Jaeun”

With a shaky hand, you tugged onto Suji’s uniform. “S-Suji, it’s fine”

Harin’s eyes darted down to your hand that was on her rival, not accepting the small skin ship. “Don’t touch her, Jeon Y/n.”

Suji held your hand and interlocked your fingers. “Don’t listen to her Y/n. I can help you”

Fire flashed in Harin’s eyes and she instantly yanked you away from Suji, pulling you behind her. “Don’t touch what’s not yours, Sung Suji!”

“Who are you to claim her? I’m not letting you hurt this girl anymore!”

You saw the taller girl point her finger in the shorter’s face. “Try to ruin the game all you want, Suji. But don’t you dare touch Y/n or get her involved in it”

Without hearing another word, Harin dragged you out the class and into an empty room, locking the door and sitting down on one of the chairs while pinching her nose bridge.

You stood awkwardly in front of her and played with your fingers. “H-Harin..”

“Are you trying to make me jealous on purpose?”

You looked up at her with wide eyes. “What? N-No! I was going to tell Suji to go away I swear!”

Harin sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know, baby. It seemed like you wanted Suji’s attention more than mine. Don’t you love me anymore?”

“No no I love you, Harin! So much!”

She bit on the tip of her thumb before tapping her lap. “Come. Sit”

You quickly did as so and held onto her shoulders for support.

“You’re such a bad girl, baby. Letting the other girls touch you like that. Tell me, did you enjoy having Wooyi’s fingers on you?”

Your lips were sealed but you shook your head.

“That’s right. The only fingers you’ll be getting are mine, okay?”

“Y-Yes Harin”

She tilted her head at you. “We’re alone now, honey”

You gulped and flickered your gaze at her plump lips. “Yes mommy”

Harin held your hips and forced them to move back and forth against her lap. “Don’t kiss me, Princess. That’s your punishment as of today, got it?”

“Yes mommy” you gasped when Harin moved you to sit on her thigh, letting you continue riding it.

“M-Mommy, feels so good”

“I know baby. Don’t be loud, okay?”

You nodded and watched the girl remove her cardigan, taking out her usual cigarette and favourite golden lighter. Quickly lighting up a stick, she hid the lighter back into her cardigan and moved one hand underneath your skirt.

“My good girl. Not wearing panties like I told you to” she smiled, taking a big puff of her cigarette and blowing the smoke into your face.

You didn’t like passive smoking but with Harin, you did not mind one bit.

Her ring finger and middle finger were flat against your soaked entrance, causing you to whine. “Mommy…Mommy please can I ride your fingers?”

“Always having manners, baby. That’s what I love so much about you…” she trailed off and leaned up to place light kisses under your jaw. “…go on ride me”

“Thank you mommy” you choked and felt full from her two slender fingers pushing into you.

Your grip on her shoulders tightened while you moved up and down, feeling her digits dig deeper inside your walls. You threw your head bag and murmured a bunch of incoherent words while Harin stared up at you with fascination, still going through her cigarette.

“God, you’re so pretty Jeon Y/n. I’m so glad you’re mine. My beautiful F Grade” she whispered, leaning her cigarette to your shoulder. “You know what to do, my love”

You undid the 3 top buttons of your shirt and pulled down the left side, exposing your black bra strap and the left over burn marks from your previous private sessions with Harin.

She hummed at your obedience and struck the lit end of her stick against a new space on your skin. The mix of the pleasure of her fingers plus the stinging hot cigarette was enough to bring you to your orgasm, clutching Harin so hard that her uniform could’ve ripped.

“Yes…cum for me, sweet girl”

“Fuck fuck fuck yes mommy thank you”

Admiring your fresh burn, she flicked the cigarette away to hug your hips and pull you closer, letting her continue kissing all over your neck and collarbones, even kissing your old burn scars.

She was about to move to your other shoulder, pulling down the shirt to expose your skin but she was met with a big bruise.

“Is this from Kim Dayeon?”

You were still recovering from the intense orgasm but managed to nod your head. “Y-Yeah..”

“Does it hurt alot?”

“Not alot. I’ll put ice on it, don’t worry”

Harin slowly pulled her fingers out of you and sucked it clean, noticing your face going red. “Don’t be shy, baby. You’re so cute”

“T-Thank you”

“I can punish Dayeon for you, my love”

“No I don’t want that, seriously it’s okay” you chuckled and held her face, tracing her bottom lip with your thumb. “You worry too much”

“You’re my girl. Why won’t you let me help you move to A Grade?”

“Just ‘cause…I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you”

Harin nodded in understanding and kept smiling at you. “If you say so, my love”

[xoluvx]

Hi hope ur day is going well! Can I get uhhhh Billie sees reader at one of her shows (whether they’re dating or not is up to u) and spends so much of the show looking at r that she HAS to take r backstage to rail her (with a strap if you’d be so kind my generous author 🙏)

I’ll be the kindest and most generous author, my gracious reader. please enjoy ❤️‍🔥

Usually you’d be at the side of the stage watching your girlfriend perform. Tonight, you wanted to be front and center. You wanted to watch her in her element. You wanted to experience it fully and not partially. You wanted to see how long it took for her to notice you.

She noticed you right away. You saw the look on her face, brows furrowed lips curling, when she saw your body in the crowd. Right at the center. Eyes locked on hers.

You were mesmerized. It felt like she was performing just for you. You knew she was performing just for you. The way she couldn't take her eyes off you. The way she turned her head in your direction even when she was at the furthest side of the stage.

When she crawled on the stage she was so close you could almost feel her. Her eyes were burning holes in your clothes. Her lips wrapping around the mic as she sung. Her voice taking you straight to heaven.

"You thought I wasn't going to notice?" her voice playful, but her eyes told a different story. She grabbed you by the waist twirling your body so you were leaning over the couch.

Her show was over, but she was about to give you an encore.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she asked rubbing your ass leaning over your body so her voice reached your ear ever so softly. You groaned extending your arms above your body, fingers digging into the couch cushion.

"I asked, did you enjoy yourself?" she repeated herself thrusting her hips on your ass eliciting moan.

"Yes. Yes, you were so good baby" you hummed bringing your arm up to wrap it around her head, fingers caught in her damp hair. Billie huffed with satisfaction before getting up, leaving you dumbfounded on the couch.

"Stay," she instructed when she heard your body stir ready to search for her.

"How about an encore?" you could hear the smirk on her face just as you could picture it, so cocky. When she pulled down your underwear, you gasped at the sudden chill and moaned when the fake cock teased your entrance.

"Please," you breathed extending your arms again while arching your back. You were on your tippy toes waiting, anticipating, yearning. When she broke through your walls you whimpered long and loud. Face resting on your arm. Fingers trying to find something to grip. Toes curlings in your shoes.

Billie dragged her hips back slowly before slamming into you again thrusting your body forward.

"Oh my god," you chanted as Billie established a steady pace. The sound of your ass slapping on her skin was music to her ears. The way your moans mixed with the beat was just perfect. She watched your ass bounce on her cock. Heard you moan each time she hit it hard. Louder than usual if the tip hit your cervix.

Then she lifted you, holding on to your shoulder. Flush against her body, cock buried deep in your cunt hitting at a new angle. She moved her hips swiftly digging her fingers in your hipbones pulling you down on her.

You were a whimpering sobbing mess. Drooling on her cock, screaming her name almost as loud as her fans had just earlier. She was so deep and you were so close to the edge.

She was putting on a show and you were enjoying every last second of it.

[darlingofvalyria]

❝I am the Heir's Wife. I bore the Heir his lineage. I will not be swept aside.❞

[ The Prince Jacaerys Velaryon should have known his wife better— or at least, her ire, for when his trysts with the bastard Snow reached the Spiders and soon, the ears of his Princess Consort, rage and war drummed for Winterfell, demanding heads.

—Maestre Kevan, Volume IV of The Bastard Eater, passage chapter under 'The Flame that Sung for the North'. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 10,062 ] [ series masterlist ] | jacaerys velaryon x targaryen aunt!reader (aegon's twin sister), one-sided aegon ii x reader, jace x sara snow

contains— canon divergence - manipulative reader, targcest, smut, angst - post-vizzy t death, rhaenyra is queen - mentions of children, pregnancy, childbirth - allusions to infidelity & character death(s) - targaryen madness, revenge, domestic violence (not jace), unhinge behaviour, intense use of 'bastard', profanity, gaslighting, guilt-tripping - this is basically gone girl, you gone girl jace - dark fic - mentions of depression (aegon ii), allusions to suicide (not reader) - nsfw: oral (f receiving), breeding kink, creampie - no kings, no martyrs, no betas.

a/n— i didn't think i was going to do the sara snow thing, but herewe are. also i just wanted an excuse to go absolutely ape shit. reader gets very intense, like thoroughly unhinged. this is literally me supporting women's wrongs. it is also quite insane that this reached 10k and it's still just the first part lmaooo + comment, reblog & like at will!

"THAT FUCKING BASTARD! THAT GODSDAMNED, WHORE-FUCKING STRONG HALF BREED!"

Your shrieks echo stone and shadow, interrupted only by the things you pick up and hurl. Anything your hands grab, you throw and spit obscenities against, rage and tears ruin your pretty visage. The fury swept past your cherub features, a dragon breaking through the Hightower seams, upending fire and roar from the pits of your being.

"HOW DARE HE?! I GAVE HIM AN HEIR! I BROUGHT HIM PEACE! I BETRAYED—" you roar, pulling your pearl dagger— a gift from your Strong Bastard of a Husband — and throwing it to your vanity mirror, glass shards exploding. "— MY KIN!"

"DAUGHTER, PLEASE!"

Arms wound across your torso—hardened and chain-mail — as you fight against your bounds before a pain flashes to your cheek. Your rage quiets, hard breaths from your lungs. You turn your tear-stained anger to your mother and her palm, fright and terror on her regale visage.

Death of a spouse becomes the Queen Dowager in her pale blue robe and unbound spirals of auburn hair. Peace had begotten a realm that is balanced on the lineage you had produced for the Queen, her heir, and your own, as the new Princess of Dragonstone. With Otto Hightower for evermore banished to Oldtown, Kings Landing had been brought to a flowering kindness.

Queen Rhaenyra's ascension had been a wondrous affair, fit the for the first crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not a Queen Consort, not a Queen Regent. An heir who rose for the crown always meant to be hers.

But the calamity that brewed in her ascension... no. You paved the peace. T'was you who wrangled the Great Houses that proved allyship to your twin brother's banner, you who blessed her with tranquility of a rule that will be known for ages that will precede you all.

And now her son... her son dared to destroy everything.

A conversation floats above your head, by your Queen Mother and her sworn shield, the Ser Cole, but you barely hear anything past the ringing in your head.

The Targaryen Madness the sheep so call it, an idle voice, faint and familiar, whispers in the niches of your brain. It has infected you so. It breathes, fuelled by the air wrought by your husband's betrayal. It sings, sweet love. It sings.

"—your grace, I urge to hold her—"

"—she is my daughter, Ser Cole, I am not in danger. Release her."

Justice, the voice shrieks? Screams? But it is so soft in your head, a wail of a memory, a woman or a man? must be had. No dragon falls in such disgrace.

The tight wound over your torso is unleashed but the knight is not far, tensed to cage you, when your mother grasps your elbows as you grab hers, nails digging into the thick fabric of her hem that she still winces, your grip steel-tight.

"My darling, please. I cannot help you if you do not speak what ails you." She brushes her hand desperately across your face, smearing your tears, trying to find the daughter she bore past the savagery and madness that beholds you now. "What has happened?"

You draw a tightened, harsh breath to your lungs, rattling your bones that you quiver in your attempt for sanity.

"I am being shamed, mother," you whisper. Stark, violet eyes meeting the worried round, brown of hers. "The Strong bastard is whoring himself to another, a Northern bastard."

A cackle falls your lips as alarmed gazes are exchanged above your head.

"Y-You cannot say such things aloud, sweet girl," your mother hushes your madness, pulling you close to her chest as she shoots a glance at the door.

Criston checks outside, but only your maids linger. Dyanna presses a finger against her lips, catching the knight's eye, and the rest scatter, surely to make sure that no one that need not know of their mistress' words is within reach. A shiver still runs his spine. He will never get used to the quiet, almost non-verbal way your connection worked and reached. Your Spiders weave webs all around, even as their mistress sunders with rage.

"Mayhaps you are mistaken, for sure the prince is loyal, and he adores you—"

You pull back against her, teeth bared. She flinches and Ser Cole steps forward, wary. "It is the third missive now that I have received. Did you think I would not have confirmed twice— thrice? I didn't believe it the first time! But three people have now confirmed that all this time, in the guise of rallying his mother's cause in the North, he is spending ample time with the Lord Stark's bastard sister. His bastard fucking sister!"

Your mother's horror catches that of Ser Criston's, but your fury is your own, you are a dragon trapped in the ruin of your own making, of the webs you had spun so cleverly to get to this point, and you cannot stop.

"I am the Heir's Wife. I bore the Heir his lineage, my blood spilled the birthing bed for it." A cry leaves your lips as your grief and rage pools like ichor from your chest to the floor. Alicent is torn away from you— your nails had gone through her robe and she had cried in pain, a mimick of your own, a mother to a daughter to a mother to a daughter, a cycle, an Ouroboros — and you fall to the floor, grasping at your chest.

"I will not be swept aside. I will not be ignored."

A gasp falls from your lips as your mind moves to a quiet, still place. The tremble fades, your rage and grief whirls, collects, as you push it all back inside your chest.

Your madness must be sharpened for it be used as a sword.

And you cannot let him be happy in another's arms.

If you cannot drag them to the Hells, sweet dragon, the idle voice hums, hisses? Screeches. Your ancestors— all of those who have succumbed to dreamy madness — appears in the corners of your vision like soldiers. Awaiting for you to join them. Awaiting the blood that you will spill.

Then you must raise the Hells unto Winterfell.

"...my daughter?" Alicent calls, hesitant. Cole hovers but does not approach, standing guard in protection of the Dowager. It breaks her heart to see you this way, a young woman still, much older than she was when she married but only because you had always sought your future. You had always had a hardened scale, far stronger than she.

Even when you made your entrance to the world— the unmeasurable pain of bringing not one, but two heirs into the world, her firstborns, all at once — you had never cried. The maestres, maids, they worried for you, as your twin brother had not stopped crying, so alive and red, raw from the wound of being fresh.

But you... you had not made a sound.

The entire weight of your being— your mind, your emotions — even then, you wrangled them close to your very centre, never letting them stray too far from the edges of your fingertips. As if any release must be made with a perused thought. An incentive of reason.

Even then, you plotted every step you took.

Now, Alicent watches as her firstborn daughter suctions all her emotions— that Targaryen madness that plagued the blood of her husband, his ancestors — and made her ploy.

Against the husband that dared make a fool of her.

The silence beckons nightmare. Old fear flickers inside the Queen Dowager.

"Where are my daughters?"

"What?"

"My daughters," you repeat, a hair's breadth louder than the first time you spoke. Your eyes flutter upward. The deadened gaze curled Alicent's heart in fear. "Where are they?"

"In the nursery, with the twins and Maelor. Helaena and Aegon are watching them."

You offer your hand up mutely, and Cole exchanges one last, lingering look with the Dowager, before offering his own. You stand up, thank him softly, and brush and clean up your face to the best of your ability. An utter calmness over your visage.

"Tell no one of what I had told you," you say, fixing your hair and rubbing the red from your cheeks. One minute there is madness, the next there is nothing. There is only a girl. A woman. A princess. "No one knows apart the three of us, and if you ever decide, Ser Criston, that nigh is the glorious time for you to betray my mother or I, know that the last thing thing oyu will fear is the Stranger's hand when I am through with you."

Your mother shouts your name, horrified. "What are you thinking? What are you plotting?"

You cup Alicent's face, smiling ever sweet. "Your innocence will keep you safe, mother. All I ask, for the heart you keep for your children, that you keep this between sealed lips and tilted chin. You know nothing, yes?"

"... Yes. Nothing."

You place a tender kiss on your mother's head. "Keep Daenera and Aemma safe for me. Aegon and I are flying to Dragonstone promptly. Sweet Helaena does ever so get overwhelmed by watching all of the children by herself."

"D-Dragonstone?"

Your sweet smile touched with poison, stretches. "It is high time I take a dragon for myself, don't you think so?"

While an insecure obsession had fraught your younger brother about claiming a dragon, you had met it with indifference.

For how can you not mourn the loss of Aemond's sight, staring in quiet horror the entire time as the maestre did his best to salvage the muck mess of blood and nerve endings, before the old man had shaken his head, and you turned to the small bowl that contained your brother's eye, unable to look at anything else.

Not even when your mother's rage was met with apathy and anger, her demands for justice nothing more than a woman's insanity, a mother's grief that must be swept away, tucked under a chin and a sadness she will never get rid of.

"Do not mourn me, mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

Your soft-hearted, darling, baby brother. None of his words had thawed the freezing of your heart, the grief under the swell of your breastbone.

Your own mourning was kept between teeth and tongue, as you had slept with your siblings that night. The four of you, tucked under the wing of the other, Aemond close to your chest as possible, as quiet, hot tears ran down your face. Every moan of pain or whimper he made in his sleep tore at each new vein inside of you.

"Dragons are the symbol of our House's power," Aegon had once said, windswept hair you tried to tame with your fingers, smelling fresh of Sunfyre and winds.

"And yet, there were no eggs in our child beds." He stiffened while you smiled sadly, curling your twin's hair away form his face, making him presentable and dusting the bout of sand that managed to find his leathers. You had been scolded long before by your grandsire of how you coddle Aegon, how you defend him, mother him more than your mother ever could, but you cannot stop. You were meant to care for him, tethered you once were inside your mother's womb together, you hold him steady now.

Whenever he was lost, whenever his sadness overtook him, wrung your brother dry of life, you bat the Stranger's hand and bring him back.

"But we have proved them wrong," he insisted. "All of us, even Aemond with Vhagar— the war queen, Visenya's dragon — we have claimed ours. Daeron all the way Oldtown has Tessarion, even Helaena has Dreamfyre. And yet you insist..."

You wound your arms over his torso, keeping him close in a silly hug where you sway and dance him around. A laugh escaped him while you inhaled the scent of smoke, soot, and that grime stench of beast.

Aegon on his good days lacked the bottle-edge of wine, of cheap salts from the waft of the soiled, Silk Streets.

This was your brother. No one else.

"I fare better without one," you whispered in his ear. "I appear innocent, sweet almost, without a beast in my command. They look at me with nothing but pity and the urge to protect me. Our father likes me like this, his poor, lovely daughter without a dragon of her own, listening so intently to his histories of Old Valyria. Our sister is eased, as one daughter is plagued by dreams and struggles with the real world, while the other cannot even claim a dragon of her own. Poor princess, Hightower blood must have thickened in her veins. She too, is no threat."

You pulled back, smiling at him. "They like me better like this. Pitiful, compliant, nothing but a sweet and pretty flower that sways in the Spring breeze. A beautiful decoration but no more."

He rubbed a thumb on your arm, a worry knot on his forehead. Aegon adored you but he struggled to piece together where your plot lies. You are a web-spinner, forever dancing out of reach, catching prey and lengthening your intricacies. "Is that why you hide your training with Aemond alone? Ser Criston is mother's sworn shield, he would not mind—"

"I will not place my secrecies to a knight with a soiled cloaked," you snorted. "No matter how tall he stands beside our mother. I trust no one but my kin. And I know that no matter how heavy you drink, sweet Aeg of mine, my secrets are your own."

He took your hand, kissing the back of it, stare impregnable. "As your blood is my own, our fire is one flame. I go where you tell me to."

You kissed his cheek, a reward, laughing. He smiles proudly at the sound. At this time, you dangled yourself to your brother as bait as the pressure from your grandsire to make him King started rising. You had been given notice that he had been talking to House Lannister, Wylde, even some Riverland lords.

You did not mind becoming Aegon's second wife. Just as his namesake, he will have his Rhaenys and Visenya. Unlike the Conqueror however, he would adore his Visenya more than a true flower. Helaena would enjoy that far better.

"And if I tell you to jump?" you half-purred.

"I will ask you how high."

Memories and choices break and tide as you scramble for hold on the rocky cliff face. Dragonmont in the dark is a behemoth beast, a screech or two breaking like lightning crackles, or the familiar drum beat of wings before the silence consumes once more. The stench of fire, of beasts and carcasses helps cloak the darkened night.

"Udligon ñuha brōzagon, Answer my call," you hiss into fraudulent emptiness, hands gripping rocky edges until your blood beads, "you fucking lizards."

"Have you gone mad!?"Aegon shouted, trying to pace with your run to the dragonpit.

A rocky laugh broke out from your being, not deigning that with a reply. Aegon huffed angrily.

"Alright, tell me this then. How are you so sure I'm not just about to put you on a bleeding volcano to die? We claim your dragon in the morn, sister. First thing before we break our fast. I'm sure by then, Vermithor or—"

You whipped your head around, pulling halt. "I leave tonight to claim my dragon. Whether it is you and Sunfyre who gets me there, or Aemond and Vhagar, is no matter to me. I will claim one tonight. It is up to you to decide now if we tell Aemond or not."

Aemond, whose anger is wounded tight, the barest excuse for war always at the edge of his hum. The misstep at Storm's End had cost him everything. Had cost your mother everything. Queen still, Alicent Hightower had bent the knee and offered her life in exchange for mercy. Before Rhaenyra passed judgement, Viserys I had passed.

It didn't matter that you had ensured a higher dosage from the Harrenhal witch in his usual milk of the poppy. Your spiders moving with ease through the silent channels you had established long before your own flowering.

The Red Keep had scrambled, the Heir with it. It was enough time for Lucerys to have come out of the red, confirmed to live through the worst of it without as much as a broken bone. Arrax however, had been badly maimed, and would no longer take flight. But he and his rider would live. Aemond would live. Alicent would have her son. Rhaenyea will have hers, and the crown.

Kevan had done his duty unto you while you settled the storms in Dragonstone. You rewarded him handsomely.

Aegon sighed. He too, would like your honour avenged, but not for the sake of war. "As you wish, sister. I hope you know what you're doing and I am not about to send you to your death."

Just like what you did to your mother, you reached forward and cupped his face. If before, your touch stills his heart and floods his cavities with warmth, a flash of fear strikes the twin son at the eerie smile on your face.

"Skoros morghot vestri? What do we say to the god of death?"

Aegon blinked. "Tubī daor. Not today."

You smiled. "Trust me, sweet Aeg. It is not my death the Stranger will take. Not until the fjords of the North are at my mercy."

"Iksan kesīr sir naejot māzigon ñuha sikagon pakto! I am here now to claim my birth right!" Your scream echoes and falls, repeating back to you. There is a hum, like an electric current that sizzles and pops inside your blood and marrow, and you scramble higher and higher on the rock. Your blood does not sing for the dragon lairs, but above. Up and up, jagged edges cut your skin and dress, the wind whipping with sea mist, but nothing, no one, can clamour you as you reach the peak.

At first you see nothing but darkness and hollow sounds. But you let your eyes adjust, a hiss breaking out of your dry lips as you stumble. You look down. What you first thought were rocks and wayward bones of cattle is bigger.

Whale? No.

Dragon. Dragon bone.

You look and will every sense that your eyes do not. The smell that is drowned— iron. Bones bigger than a person. Than cows and whales. Bones of fearsome beasts. Darkness moves, taking form, more than shadow. Scales hewn rough and jagged, as if stone themselves. Midnight black moving with the gentlest of sighs.

As soon as you realise what— or who — is in front of you, the eyes open with an intelligent gleam. Your heart jolts at the emerald irises that gaze back at you, slitting at the appearance of a human.

'The stench of death follows him', the voice of an old keeper hums into your ear. You no longer remember who told this to you, but the words ring true in your memory. 'Scales of midnight, as if hewn from darkness and death. A harbinger, your grace, an omen of the darkest nightmares.'

"Rytsas. Hello." You smile, ever sweet, ever charming.

This is a thread you had never felt before. Not one of your own making, but something older. A golden thread that led the eyes of Daenys the Dreamer. That spun the ties of Aegon the Conqueror. The voices that herded your madness had gone quiet in the mad rush to get here, but now their presence thickens. Words you cannot hear, nor understand, flood the silence as dragon met rider for the first time.

Keepers and historians have called him he, but every bone in your body tells you that the being before you is a she.

And wouldn't that make sense? A cannibalistic being is a woman?

She opens her maw, only ever slightly, smoke and fire crackling out of it. Molten lava in the belly of her insides tease the cool, night air and warms you.

Her version of a smile. Hello, she seem to say.

"Māzīs. Come," you say, giggling. "Dohaerās. Serve."

That night, you took your first flight.

That night, the Cannibal took her first flight with her first— and only — rider as well.

❝ . . . It is said that the formerly named "The Cannibal" had been entranced by the hunger of his new— first and evermore — rider. Prince Aegon the Elder who had escorted his twin sister that very night with Sunfyre, had looked up in alarm and fright to a maddened screech. Excitement and laughter pouring out from the newly bonded Dragon and Rider had soon turned fear into awe.

Gaelithox, she had been named as they had ridden until dawn broke by the rider who loved her 'till the end of their days, was said to have seen a mirror in Her Grace. The fathomless hunger for blood and organ from the same bodies of their kin. For Gaelithox ever hungers and satisfies for the same meat as her, at the height of her grief and ire that fuelled the Queen Consort to climb Dragonmont by hand, she too hungered for the throats of her traitorous blood.

Gaelithox will only have one rider in her whole life, as she found no same twin soul as akin in the Bastard Eater Queen. Their bond moved as if two bodies beheld one soul.

She shied from humans, and oft found too rough with other dragons. Vhagar was an exception, oft seen acting as an elder sister to the Queen's dragon when neither royal rode them and played in the skies. Smaller dragons were forbidden to approach her however, nor was she allowed in the dragonpit after almost devouring the flightless Arrax.

She died two moons after the Queen's death, delivering her final flames for her rider and would never more breathe her infamous green flames akin to Wildfire, ordered by the Crowned Heir, Princess Daenera Velaryon. It is said that the princess attempted to bond with the cannibalistic dragon but it refused.

The dragon spent her last moons in heartbreak, oft seen in Dragonstone and the Red Keep, circling her rider's most favourite places. Her final resting place is at the very top of Dragonmont from whence the Queen claimed her. It is said that the Queen's crown, the one the King Jacaerys had gifted her after the birth of their first sons, the Princes Laenor and Gaemon, is said to be placed there, as well as a portion of her ashes.

It is said that the King and the Queen's twin brother, the Prince Aegon, personally made the trek in remembrance.

It is widely suspected that Aelyx, Princess Daella's dragon, the youngest child of the King and Queen, may have been Gaelithox's only existing hatchling for he too is made of rough, midnight scales. The dragon that bred with her remains to be unknown. ❞

—Maestre Kevan Noratz, Volume X of The Life and Lies of the Emerald Flame, passage chapter under 'The Time of Hunger: Gaelithox'.

You leave Gaelithox to a mournful goodbye on Dragonstone, pressing your forehead against her hard, scaly head, promising to come back, of exchanging her diet for fat, juicy whales, for more wind-whipped rides, before riding back on Sunfyre with Aegon. The younger dragon would not rise from the beaches in fear of the cannibalistic elder, but you made ensuring promises to teach Gaelithox not to chew your dearest brother's dragon.

You had gone most of your life without the feeling of a bond beneath you, warm and alive and wild, and the roar and stench that though new, felt so familiar in your ribcage— you will fly again. And with your brothers beside you. With Helaena and her lovely Dreamfyre.

To think they had taken this from you too, to placate them. To play into their hands like a mewling kitten.

No more.

It is paces before fast is about to break when you both touch back down to Kings Landing. The Keep busying with its occupants, servants and maids bolstering with quickened feet to ensure the lords and royals are awakened with full, poached meals, dresses and coats readied for their lords and ladies, a new, glorious day under the Reign of the Black Queen.

"What now?" Aegon asks, trying to keep with your pace but he is fatigued, failing to stop his yawns. The excitement of last night had come upon him like a fog, and he is missing his bed. Hells, he is missing the bed he stays with his wife if it meant he would get a full night's sleep in the hours of the day.

"Now, we speak nothing of what happened."

He turns to you, frowning. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." You beam, nodding in favour of soldiers and maids who bow in reverence to the Crown Princess. You know you smell of dragon and night, and you need a bath. And to talk to Dyanna before you seek your daughters. "I will need time and people. The board must still be set for me to perfectly execute what I have in store."

"Alright." He yawns again. "I'll be in my quarters, passed out, if you need me. Please do not need me until sup."

You laugh breathlessly, grabbing his hand and giving it a wet kiss. "I will give you your rest, be assured. Kirimvose, dōna lēkia, Thank you, sweet brother."

The words are simple, said in a quiet murmur heavy with love and meaning. Aegon presses a loving kiss to your head, unable to stop himself winding an arm around you.

"Syt ao, va moriot, ñuha prūmia. For you, always, my heart."

As you break to each other's chambers— his, to sleep, you, already meeting Yna and requesting for a bath — you don't notice the lurker that watched the intimate moment between twins, humming in amusement before it moves to follow you.

Back in your quarters— your marriage quarters as Jacaerys had requested that you forgo having your own, not wishing to part with you — the maids are already busying themselves airing the room, moving to follow your usual routine. The only thing breaking it is the tub now in the centre.

"Thank you," you say to Yna as she picks out the pins from your hair, shrugging off your dress in the process as soon as the maids had untangled the lace behind you.

"Call for Dyanna," you tell them as they bow and leave, the door clicking softly behind them. Plans must be made. Bath for now.

With the world stifled for a second, left with only you and your thoughts, you plunge your body under too-hot water, sighing  against the aches and pains in your body. Dragon-riding is a new endeavour to your muscles, and though enjoyable, was still too new.

You sigh as tears fall from your eyes, blinking exhaustedly against soft, humming daylight. You had always known that love, as it is, is a maiden's folly. A foolish, hapless play meant to fool young girls into thinking the world is kind; a pretty place.

It was an even farther thought from you, a princess of the realm. At a young age, it has been drilled to you that your womb is a rare commodity. Your body has never been your own, a piece meant to be moved in a bigger game that you are used for, not play.

You weren't stupid.

If there's a few things Otto Hightower had ever granted you, apart from gifting you his keen prowess in moving power beneath your fingertips, in hungering for more, for better— it is understanding what each person is, who they can be, how you can move them. A flatter, a flair, a push. As a man, there is much to be desired about your grandsire; he used people, used family to pursue power, but you can't truly fault him for that as you were the same.

You just took better care of the people under your wing.

And for Jace, you had banished him.

The worst part, you knew there was a good, fat chance you would care for the princeling. He was a kind man, a sweet man, and with a guiding hand, you could forge yourself the best husband for yourself as much as you can mould a great king and a wonderful father. Women's hands are ever carved to mould and prod men. We stand behind, a presence or a hand, an echo of power.

But your Jace had surpassed it all, and in the moons leading up to your present day, to giving him his heirs, two beautiful daughters, the promised full Valyrian colouring in the silver hair in Daenera, your eldest, the wide, violet gaze in Aemma— the name of his mother's mother, a request of him that you had kindly, graciously fucking agreed to — of course there is a part of you, the girlish, tender heart that you long thought you had buried to get here, would fall for the brown-eyed, wondrous man.

You sink deeper into the tub, sighing as you let yourself unravel—

When you feel it. A presence in your room. It's soft. Silent. Not a lot would feel as such, but as paranoid as you are, as you keep your spiders clean and pretty with your dewy-eyed webs— you know better.

Your mind runs with ideas on who it might be, and come to a few people. No true name rises. The Red Keep is flooded with spies and traitors. You test your luck, sitting up on the tub, raising an arm over the lip of it and flicking water with your fingertips.

"If you are here to kill me, I'm afraid it will be a lost cause."

He laughs, sardonic and edged and familiar, jetting a tingle down your spine.

Well. There's getting a calm bath.

"Perceptive as always, niece," he says, heavy footfalls approaching now that he has been caught. "I'm just here to say hello."

You raise your eyes, mouth curled but unsmiling at the man who acts as the biggest thorn to your plots. Daemon Targaryen has never fallen through your webs, on guard against your flatter, your push, or your flair. Of course, taking the position of his daughter might have forever burnt that road, but you would think he'd ease up just a little bit when his wife, the Queen, had warmed to you considerably.

Unlike your mother, you had never been hostile to your bitch of an elder sister. Just like your plots for Aegon and Jacaerys, and nodding along to thread your father had started but abandoned, foolishly thinking the realm would follow without him fully ensuring your sister's claim to the throne— you carefully maintained a polite farce with Rhaenyra.

Ultimately, this became a boon to you, as she had responded positively to your abrupt marriage to her son, even reminding her deranged guard dog of their own marriage. The cream to your lemon cake had been when you birthed Aemma, the Queen's most favourite grandchild thus far. When she was a babe, Rhaenyra was never far; almost, always holding your daughter, cooing at her cheeks, remarking her likeness to her namesake with pure fondness.

But Daemon Targaryen knew, in the deepness of his marrow, that there is something wrong with you.

"Hello," you answer primly. He laughs, leaning against the passage to your open balcony. "We could have had this elating greeting at fast, if you wish to break it with me and my own."

He scoffs, unable to hide his disdain at the thought. It breaks his stare of your naked visage. Men. "I would rather jump to the fighting pits, good daughter."

"How rude. Is that all?" You meet his gaze steadily, tilting your head. "If it is not obvious yet, good father, I am bathing."

An amused smirk. "I can see that." Lecherous fucking geezer. "No matter. I just have a... curious thought, a wonder I suspect you may be able to answer. See. Truly odd it is, for the keepers to alert me this morning that Sunfyre had taken a ride past the Hour of Owl." Your heart thuds in your ribcage and you do your best to keep your expression mildly irritated. "Not with one, drunken rider, but with another. It had taken them hours, only coming back when morning had already presented in the air."

He steps forward, slow, menacing, until he reaches the edge of your tub and crouches. Your gazes are still unmatched in height, defiant as yours might be.

"The distinct smell wafts them, a Keeper said, and one suspects that though one dragon left last night, two might have come back this morning for he had seen another fly away." His fingers dips into the water, swirling the steam without breaking eye contact. "I wonder if you know anything about it, darling niece of mine."

The mocking emphasis is not lost on you. If the Queen is the Realm's Delight, you were Darling of the Realm. A sweet, merry girl, the secondborn daughter of Viserys I who frequently fought for the plight of the small folk, who gathered friends of all kinds of lords and ladies no matter the standing of their houses to her own, visiting far lands and charming every person in any room. Who made any feast brighter, always sparkling, always the darling.

Less of a dragon, more of a fairytale.

You sit up, leaning, baring your breasts completely to him as you pull yourself up on the ledge he is crouched from. He leans back, only slightly, as you smile demurely. Sweet. Tart. On the edge of pulling his head and hitting it against the copper tub.

"I am unsure of what you suspect, or is accusing me of, kepus, uncle," you purr and there's a twitch in his mouth, a widen in his irises— men are so fucking simple — "I had been feeling down last night, as my husband, as you know, is beyond my reach at the moment as he rallies alliances for the good of the realm. My brother had simply offered to take me out riding, trying to quell my loneliness with an excitable flight I had never been afforded."

You tilt your head. "Even if there had been a dragon binded to my own, why why would I not regale the realm with news of my success? I have longed for a dragon of my own, but alas, I have not quite succeeded where most of the family have." You pout. His eyes flicker. "Mayhaps I am more Hightower than I am Targaryen."

A huff leaves his lips, the amusement in his smile arching to his dark, dark gaze. Before you can react, his hand had comes forward to hold your chin in a tight grip, your jaw aching soon enough at the fingers that dig against your skin, wanting to bruise, to break.

Though a tremble passes your body, you keep his stare, gritting your teeth as the pad of his thumb brushes your lips. Moments and desires thrum between a charged hatred.

The lust is twisted from wanting to fuck you to wanting to kill you. The line is not simple. Maybe that is your fate together.

But he can't. You are well too ingrained in his family now, loved by the people he cared about. You are untouchable. For now. This is a warning, waiting for you to stutter, to show your hand. Any show of your true intentions... he is more than happy to swing Dark Sister across your throat.

He releases you without another word, standing up and leaving through the front door, the door clicking shut.

You sink back into the bath, letting the water engulf you.

Your daughters are moons apart in birth, and there are only a few differences between them that people oft remarked they could be twins. Daenera is taller, spindly. Built like Aemond when he was younger. Her hair is spun moon and eyes of mullish blue. It reminds you of Daeron's eyes. You had named Daenera yourself, a gruelling birth that took the entire night. You promised Jacaerys he could name the second. He had chosen Aemma for a girl, Laenor for a boy.

Not a few moons later, you were with child again. Your husband pinked at the cheeks at the chiding from his family. When she cried into the afternoon sun—Aemma was born mid day, during a council meeting — he pain did not stop the laugh that came out of your mouth from the horrified expression from the Master of Coin as your water broke.

Aemma had a sweetheart face, cheeks much fatter than her older sister's, with a yellowish tinge to her hair, curlier too, reminding you of Aegon. And Aemma laughed more, her deep, violet eyes always half closed as she exploded in giggles and bright, sunshine happiness.

Sons they might not be, but you had given heirs for the throne. And for them, you would do anything to keep their futures intact. Bond with a dragon, face the Rogue Prince, upheave Winterfell. Anything.

You flounce to the nursery where you know the two would be, smiling sweetly at every person you pass as they bow in reverence. Most wore sights of confusion, their greedy eyes and wagging tongues drinking in the deep, emerald glisten of your gown.

It's an old dress, one you keep in the corner of your collection. It isn't as if you had forgo the colours of your mother's house, but playing court meant every movement, even the clothes you wear, can be meaningful. And since your marriage, your Jace liked you in Velaryon colours.

"A goddess come to bless," he gasped against your collarbone, keeping your legs high on his waist as he rutted into you before his teeth sunk on your skin. As newlyweds go, there is not a lot of teasing to be had for your husband to curl against you in a darkened alcove. Merely wearing his favourite colour on your skin has him panting like a dog. His favourite dress is a seafoam blue that dragged longer against the ground in a soft, almost-gossamer material with a silver belt.

Enticing him never took long, but you enjoyed the dance presented. You enjoyed the dark hunger that filled him until he grabbed you to take you because he just had to take you.

The fresh wound slices deeper as you imagine all the things Jacaerys is doing to the so called Sara Snow. The emerald green of your gown shimmers with your anger.

"Fucking bastards," you can't help but say aloud, nodding at the guards posted on the nursery as you hear the squeals of your daughter and the calm, even voice of your brother.

"Muña! Mother!" Aemma squeals, untangling herself from being pressed against Aegon's side as the children— Daenera and Jaehaera — cuddle around him, before running to you. Helaena is on the floor, entertaining baby Maelor. Your mother, hands twisting against her own, stands vigil by the window, staring far ahead.

You catch your secondborn, giggling as you pressed kiss after kiss on her face.

"I see everyone has started without me. Where is Jaehaerys?"

"You were late, sodjisto, aunt," Jaehaera grins gummily. Jahaera is only a year older than Daenera. Your daughters, five and a half and five respectively. "Jaehaerys is with kepus, uncle. They are training."

"Smart girl." You meet your brother's gaze, whose eyes had notably been staring at your dress, mouth turned down. "Why don't you three play with Helaena? I shall speak about Name Day gifts for your Uncle Joffrey for a bit, hm?"

As Aemma shrieks something about cakes, and Daenera dutifully kissing your cheek in greeting before she takes Jaehaera's hand, you turn to your brother and mother.

"Aemond?" you ask softly, keeping your voice out of earshot. Alicent shakes her head. You nod. "Good. We don't want him inciting a war before I have mine properly planned."

As the Dowager draws in a sharp inhale, Aegon grabs your hands, the worry pulled taunt in his eyebrows. "Are you seriously contemplating war, sister? Isn't there a better way to punish them?"

"What punishment does a man regale in?" you hiss, stepping close to him. "Or the Queen's heir for the bloody matter? When Aemond nearly killed Lucerys, and he confronted me as if I had ordered Vhagar to tear through his brother, I thought I had put to bed any doubts in our marriage. It seems that men stray, regardless. My daughters may be his heir now, but what is to say that bastard wildling he's found himself cock deep in produces a son? Will he shame me with a mistress? Or will he shame me with a second wife?"

Your mother's lips tightens, her fingers paling at how tight she is gripping her nerves.

"Bastard or not, if he takes her to wife, I will be nothing. Make that babe a son, and the realm will rally for it. Daenera is his heir. My daughters will not be forgone. I will not be pushed aside. This is mercy, brother," you say softly, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. "My last one. It requires time, moons, to unfurl. It requires seeding doubt and unfathomable inadequacy. Better if Aemond is none the wiser, Helaena the same. But I will need both of you for this to work. It is the only time I will ever ask. For me. For my daughters."

"And you will punish Winterfell with a war?" your mother asks, frown pulled deep. "That is the plan?"

"I will not. I won't do such a thing so blatant, mother, you know me better than that. But this is my last mercy, and it will be the last. For the next time he offends me so, I do not care if Rhaenyra feeds me to Syrax. I will put a dagger through his heart, heir or not."

The Prince Jacaerys comes back not a week later. Though he comes back to the same castle with the same occupants— your shiny new threads gleam. The stage has been set, a play ready to act. You had sent more spiders in the North, keeping a close eye to every blasphemy your husband has been enjoying in the absence of his duties, and as the rage in you quietly grew with each new whisper, your determination hardens.

You mark each indescretion. You keep a tally.

You count for each fall your blow will land on him.

Vermax lands with a screech and a heavy thump, your husband leaping off him with a grin on his face, matching the one you own, waving your arm joyously with Aemma in your arm and Daenera beside you, holding to your skirt as she grinned at her father.

Aemma wiggles under your hold, and you let Jace get close enough before you set her down, laughing, "Okay, okay!" Her laughter carries through as she scrambles like a bull to her father. A squeal peals out of her as Jace picks her up just in time and tosses her in the air.

"Want to meet kepa, father, sweet girl?" you whisper to Daenera, running a hand down her hair before she nods, breaking out into her own sprint, hugging her father as he greets them with laughter and kisses.

You let them have their time, and this, at least, eases your heart truthfully. A kind reminder that Jace adores his daughters.

You stay at the edge of the entrance, your too-wide grin softens into a smile. You were dramatic, nothing new about that, but even in the pale, pearl blue of your dress in silky, Myrish lace, the emeralds in your heavy, golden belt winks. Green ribbons twisted in your hair alongside fresh flowers. When the trio of your family treks toward you, silver-haired babes clinging to your dark haired prince, you serve a wink at the girls and they untangle themselves from their father while you stepped forward.

A choreographed dance, not giving him time to think. To pause.

Every step is calculated, every item on your body— the silk, the small seahorse that locks your dress behind you, the tint on your lips to the oil in your hair and body — is made to perform. You engulf him in you as if you want to suffocate his senses, your arms wrapping around him with sweet kisses pressing on his face, his neck.

Most in the dragonpit looked away, others, scandalously amazed and enchanted, watch as the princess is undeniably enthralled with her lord husband.

His laughter rumbles across his body, infecting your own, smelling of dragonback and crisp winds. You wonder if your nose is more heightened, you would be able to smell his whore in him, but you don't. It's just him. Your Jace.

Your body moulds against his as his arms tightens around you. When you lean back, you sweetly press a chaste kiss on his lips, grinning.

"What is this?" he huffs a laugh, meeting your doeful gaze. Your fingers curl around his chin, his cheek, idly tapping and touching as if you are committing so much newness to memory.

"Kostagon iā ābrazȳrys daor jaelagon zirȳla valzȳrys? Can a wife not want her husband?" you ask softly, pressing a few more kisses before sucking the last one just under his ear. His body shudders. You hide your smirk. "Skori ēza issare qrīdrughagon tolī bōsa? When he has been away too long?"

A yearning look tints your gaze from under your lashes, and you have to stifle the winning smirk as guilt pinches his face.

"My apologies, my wife. I did not mean to be away from you for long. From the girls." As his eyes flick to his daughters, your mask momentarily sharpens into clear distaste. The urge to dig your fingers into his eyes until he is bleeding and screaming under you is one you tamper with great distress.

Did not mean...

Did not mean to have a dalliance with another woman?

Did not mean to fall into bed with a fucking bastard, you insidious cunt, while I await here with your heirs?

Your anger thrums, nestled deep in your heart, it breathes. You school your face the moment he turns back to you, bringing your hands to his lips, kissing each finger with reverent tenderness. His brown eyes smoulder, rubbing your bare— irises widening — back.

"If you wish it, I can be on my knees for my apologies, my princess."

Your mouth curls. "I'm afraid that might have to be quite later, my prince."

"Huh?"

"The Dowager Queen hoped to congratulate you on your successful campaigning. Reaching as far as the North so frequently, we planned a feast for your return." Eyes shinning, you cup his face. You hope the guilt eats him raw from the inside out. Like worms. Like termites. Hungry, hungry, hungry. "We have never been more proud of you, I have never been more proud of you."

You laugh brightly, ignoring the way he squeezed you just a bit harder that mere second the same time his eyes tightened. "The moment I told the girls of it, they had begged to dance with you." Then you bit your lip, frowning slightly. "I... I understand if you are tired, 'tis a long journey after all, I did try to tell them you might want to rest, we can sneak you—"

"No, no, my heart, of course I would be happy to, I— I want nothing more." He brings you close, face disappearing into your neck. "Thank you. I love you."

You hum, carding your fingers through his hair. "As I love you."

For the rest of the feast, you dance just at the edges of his fingertips, ensuring that you permeated his sights and senses despite it. A game. A dance. When he thanks revelries who congratulate him, who ask him of his adventures, you proudly stand beside him, dutiful as the wife that you are, spearing him with compliments as much as you can. Hands squeezing his arm, your oils swallowing him with your smell.

When dinner came, you take chances massaging his thigh, sliding a salacious grin that had him blushing, ever so sweet, green— making you wonder what kind of fucking bastards do that he finds your attention so swallowing.

You don't let up.

Whenever he, in turn made a move, you sidestep, flutter a smirk, a wink; always escaping, letting him grow frustrated as the night went on.

Your one respite from taunting him had been when he danced with his daughters, making a gallant show of asking them, even Jaehaera. Giggles and spins, the ladies of the court fawn and coo.

Even now, you're making him to be the perfect man. The endearing husband, the wondrous father, the brilliant prince, the perfect lord.

To execute your plan, it must be made with a surgical precision. A slice that guts him to his knees, that breaks his spirit and quenches the whispering, wicked madness nestling with your ire. On another cheek, he must remain upright and upstanding, as to keep your daughters' future in perfect order.

You catch the domineering gaze of Daemon Targaryen, idle as he is, on the side of his distracted Queen, talking to a highborn lady. You don't look away as you toast him your cup of Arbour Red before you pucker your lips for a taste. Your eyes move to where your husband is already looking, flushed red and sweaty from all the dancing, your girls, preening and giggling around him.

You tilt your chin at him, a challenge in your gaze, before you slowly pull your lips away from your wine, stained red.

His throat bobs.

It will be a long, arduous game. Full of pitfalls and tightened webbing. One trip can kill you. But once the machinations are in order, once everything and everyone is in their proper places... oh, you cannot wait for the dance the dragons will make.

A flutter, a simpered footstep. Then a rustle of a dress as one bows.

"My lady," Dyanna greets behind you.

"Hm?"

"The spiders in the ice have met the pup in the snow."

"And?"

"The pup is not suspicious, in fact, they might go as far as to say that the pup is lonely. Though others largely understand her existence... no one likes a bastard."

You snort. "No, they don't, do they?"

"The wolf cares for the pup though, and is largely protective of his only sister."

"Hm. Complicated, but not impossible. Have Meera change the tone of my missive. A softer edge. Sweet but not overtly. Ensure the prerogative of politeness. Then have it sent to the Rookery. The proper channels."

You sigh, taking the edge of your braid and twisting through the ribbons your maid tangled between them. Tonight, you had elected Targaryen colours. A black dress akin to scales and a low, exposed back and dipping front, held together in red ribbons and silver chains. One that might be too on the nose, but the constant, feverish stares from your husband made it worth it.

"We have to ensure a good relationship with the Warden of the North, don't you think so?" You have not looked away from your husband since your maid came, and as he whispered something in Daenera's ear, nodding off to her grandmother with Aemma towed, he turned towards you, one stride after another.

"Precisely what I thought, milady."

"Go," you order her for the last time, giving her your cup, just before Jacaerys reaches you.

Game, set.

Worshipping you has always been something Jace excelled at. At the least, his cock was much larger than most, and without the preparation of his tongue and mouth, it burned. At most, he oft found himself holding your shaking thighs, your head and shoulders left on the bed as he feasted on you like a man starved, hungered for your nectar, the sounds you make, and the shaking of your body as you reached your peak on his tongue.

"J-Jace, please, I—" Your breath stutters, a hiccup escaping your mouth, but he is not letting up. On his knees as only a lordling can with his back straight, he is holding your thighs, your lower back, eating your cunny for the third time of the night.

As soon as he had reached you, he grasped your waist, whispering against your hair in a rumbled groan, "You are torturing me so, my wife. We leave. Now."

"Now?" you echoed, amused. "This is a feast in your honour."

"My honour is already hanging by a thread. The revelry will go on without us. I want to have my fill of you."

And fill he had. He didn't even wait to get you out of your dress before he had pushed your skirt upward, gone on his knees, and got his tongue inside of you.

Now, you are overwhelmed, overstimulated as you are hazy, gripping the wrecked sheets as your peak reached you once more. A strangled, breathy cry of his name falls between your lips as your back arched impossibly so, and instead of letting up, this seemed to fuel him harder, the muscle of his mouth working harder inside of your cunt, hands digging into your flesh to keep you steady.

It builds with a stimulation unending, and just as you're on the throes of your last high, it builds again, quick and fast this time, shuddering gasps of, "o-oh gods, g-gods, Jace!" is the last thing you are able to shout before your fourth peak breaks against the shudders of your last one, your wetness exploding, and you start crying before he lets up.

Your blubber becomes laughter, and he is soft as he lies you down, massaging your thighs as you twitched. He hovers above you, running gentle hands across your arms, kneading through skin, before he reaches your face. He's still in most of his clothes, his long white shirt and breeches, but his mouth is covered in your wetness before he wipes it, obscene in the prettiness of his face and messy locks from where you had tugged and grabbed.

He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, so close to your body, all too tangled in your soul, and can feel his hard cock upright and wanting against your belly, but he pays it no mind. Concern mars his features as he brushes down your hair.

"Are you alright, my love? Too much?"

You shake your head, brushing your hand down his chest. "N-no, I am well. I just never did that before."

He smiles, kissing your closed eyelids before he brings you close to his chest, cuddling you deep. "You deserve all the pleasure I can give you," he says against your hair. "I have been gone far too long. Consider it my apology."

You hum, eyes open. "Apology for what? You were doing your duty, nothing more, ñuha zaldrīzes, my dragon." You feel him stiffen as you keep your voice soft, caring. "I understand duty far better than you. It is what I love most about you."

You look up, taking his chin between your fingertips as you stared at those warm, brown eyes. "You, who carries your honour like a shield and your duty like a sword. I feel as if the gods had blessed me a husband far better than I should have had for I know I do not deserve you."

"H-how can you say that? You are—" He swallows. "— You are the most excellent woman. The mother of my children. You... You are the one I do not deserve."

Your head falls back against his chest, gripping his shirt. Only by your teeth had you stop yourself from screaming.

You curdle, you keep, you poise.

"My love?"

But you pay him no mind, pushing him on his back as you straddle him, your hands working quick to unlace his breeches until his cock slaps against his stomach, end red and swollen. A sharp hiss falls from his lips as your hand tugs on it once. Twice.

He calls your name, spits it really, eyes blown with lust as he holds your waist, unsure if he should lift you off him or grind you against his aching cock.

"I want you inside me," you whimper, plead, feeling his cock twitch at your words, your false, yearning gaze. He mistakes the burned tears of anger in your eyes as unbridled want. "I have gone so long without your warmth, your cock, swelling inside me, your seed nestling deep, taking root—"

"Yes," he gasps, fingers digging into your doughy sides, pulling you up, moving you around whilst you grabbed his length and directed inside your wet, hot cunt inch by inch, filling you so thickly you can feel him in your throat. It takes time, patience and grit, but you're wet enough and you're determined. Once he's fully inside of you through a choked moan of your own, his neck arches, head thrown back. "Fuck! Yes, y-yes, there you are, my g-good fucking girl."

You move slow at first, taking him, bracing one hand on his knee, almost testing the feel him of back in the familiar contours of your cunt. Veins pop between each groan and choke that shudders through him whilst praise, your name, the possessive titles— my love, my wife, my princess — is spit in between.

When the heat tightens in your belly, you shift positions, placing both palms on his chest, and riding him without abandon, bouncing up and down as you watch with a sharp eye as his release builds. His hips move on their own, fucking up in you as you meet his thrusts with equal vigour, and it's delicious. It's heated. You grind your swollen folds against his mon and your cries make him thrust up harder into you, calling your name, denting your doughy hips.

You don't stop, your pleasure at the back of your mind, wanting him to unravel, to break— a final cry of your name dissolving into a choked moan, spilling his seed deep inside, the continuous snap of his hips digging it deeper into your womb.

But your last peak is still tightening, so you press a quick kiss on his chest, a bite really, before you continue to chase your own high, a hiss slipping his lips but moving your hips with his iron-grip, stutters of, "d-do it, reach your high, f-fuck! fuck!"— Your head throws back, nails digging his skin as your cunt clenches his cock in a vice grip, forcing his hips to snap up once more, twice, until you fall, slumping against him.

When he kisses the top of your head, murmuring words you ignore, you close your eyes.

Your plan is in motion. The missive will be sent to the Lord Stark, in pursuit of an innocent friendship. The spiders you have placed on the Northern bastard are set, and a dragon flies in Dragonstone with your bond in its blood.

Your Jace is home. He will fall in love with you all over again. His wonderful daughters and darling princess, he will regret the events that have transpired in the cold. In his head, he will make promises to do better, to be better, that whatever happened is a blip. A mistake that will not happen again. but you know, he will trip. He will wander once more.

But you will make sure that the next time he does so, he will regret it for the rest of his days.

Because it is not you who will burn Winterfell to the ground.

It will be him.

Your plan moves, your web is perfect.

Now, the spider waits for the idiot fucking flies to feed on.

TAGGED: @inkareds @marihoneywk @caterina-caterina @ahristata @xxvelvetxxxx @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @bunbunbl0gs @yazzzmints @bellstwd @hiraethrhapsody

[4ranghaes]

hii!! idk if ur taking reqs but if not feel free to ignore this 🫡

can u do another song fic for sungho? i love how u write for him 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ty and take care!!

song fic!💋

now playing… starburster by fontaines d.c.

park sungho x reader [smut, fem!reader, mdni!!]

warnings: fingering, overstimulation

a/n - this song is actually about having a panic attack but i didnt want a repeat of taesan’s one so i’m applying it to orgasming😁 enjoy!

18:16 - “s-sungho, o-oh my god!” you groaned, voice deep, eyes rolling back in your head as you gripped the sheets beside you.

a cocky smile was plastered on sungho’s face as he sat behind you. his head was resting on your shoulder, his fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy as they worked in and out, feeling the spongy spot as well as massaging your clit.

just 20 minutes ago, you’d told sungho you had been able to make yourself squirt a couple times before, when you were both really horny and multiple orgasms down. now, he’d made it his personal mission to see the skill for real.

you were out of breath, your body slumped against your boyfriends. you could hear his wild breathing in your ear, he himself grunting at the effort he was putting in. you began whining again, approaching your second orgasm.

“s-su-sungho! i’m gonna– god! i-it’s coming!”

“do it, baby,” he commanded, “is this it? do you feel it?”

you shook your head tightly, not feeling the usually build up, then needing to piss sensation. “n-not yet… b-but i can’t—”

you cut yourself off with a loud whine, your body slinging forward before sungho reached out to you with a harsh grip, dragging you back to his body as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers.

he tutted in disappointment, as you were left panting against his chest, your heart rate slowing as you came down from bliss.

“again.”

“sungho, please,” you begged, as he started kissing along the side of your neck, down on your shoulders. his fingers started circling your clit again, your hips bucking up into his hand, your hole clenching around nothing.

“please what, baby?” he muttered, “you know your safe word?”

you nodded quickly, not feeling unsafe, just overstimulated beyond belief, as though your heart could burst at any time from the differences in pace it was being put through.

“good girl,” he murmured, his fingers once again entering your hole, two fingers going in immediately now he knew how loose you were.

his hair was flopping onto your chest, rising and falling rapidly as you - quicker than ever - felt your orgasm already approaching.

“sung-sungho!” you gasped, your voice high as you grabbed ahold of his wrist with one of your hands, the other gripping onto his hair, “t-th– ah! this is it!”

“this is it?” he repeated, a perverted smile spreading across his face as he sped up his thumb on your clit, his fingers inside you pressing hard against your walls.

your nails dug into his wrist, feeling the build up just beyond your walls as your heart sped up to a momentarily-concerning pace, your body hurtling towards orgasm.

“my good girl,” sungho smirked, nibbling on your shoulder, his figure a picture of calm as yours thrashed around, trying to run towards pleasure but yank away from the overstimulation that went with your third orgasm in a row.

you finally came with a high-pitched moan, whimpers leaving your mouth as you felt a gush of liquid cover sungho’s hand and the bed below you. sungho moaned, his cock grinding into you from below. he lifted up your lifeless body, throwing you on the bed so he was staring at your soaked, swollen pussy.

his mouth dropped open at the state of the bedsheets below you. he left soft kisses on your lips, hovering over your body.

“you with me, baby?” he whispered between kisses.

you blinked heavily, nodding slowly.

“good girl,” he hummed, lifting you into his arms to hold you to his chest.

[screampied]

Nanami coming home from a stressful day at work and reader taking care of him( like giving him a bath and feeding him and cuddling with him)

👨

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ STRESS-FREE﹒⺡ NANAMI KENTO. ’

sum. gn! reader, fluff, washing nanami’s hair, cuddles, workaholic nanami, spoilin nanami bc he deserves it.

it’d be a quarter past five-ish—that’s when the door opens, a drowsy nanami.

he drags his feet against the floor yet a small smile makes its way across his lips the moment he spots you near the kitchen.

“hi kento,” you’d say, trodding towards him before bringing him into a hug. strong arms hold you back, and he smelled so good. a whiff of his signature cologne wafts back against your face, and he lets off a small sigh. “how was work?”

“work was work, baby,” he replies, stroking your back gently… it was always so tender and relaxing whenever he did that. you look up, your chin pressing against his chest before he brings a thumb to stroke your cheek. “don’t worry, ‘m fine. just …. a little tired, ‘s all.”

“i think i know just what you need,” you mutter, and with sleepy half-lidded eyes, nanami raises a brow the moment you lock your fingers with his. within moments later. he’s being dragged by you towards the bathroom, already seeing a warm bubble bath prepared just for him and only him.

“sweetheart, i love you but i can bathe myself you know?” nanami says, a mere flustered expression on his face.

it was cute.

nanami was sat in the bathtub, stripped from his clothing with soft suds coating all over his slightly hairy chest. he speaks with softness, that look of drowsiness never leaving him.

he was prone to overworking himself all the time, sometimes without even realizing it. it was the least you could do.

“you’ve been working all day,” you utter, sitting near the edge of the tub. he leans back against the wall, hair gently ruffled and all. “i wanna take care of you, don’t be so stubborn.”

“hm. i’m not being stubborn,” he cracks a smile with a sly head shake. “i just figured you’d have better things to spend your time with, my love.”

the petnames he’d always call you, it filled your heart up with a plethora of emotions. you find yourself questioning how you’d even get lucky with a guy as him.

nanami, as much of a hard working man he was… he deserved the world and more, without question.

you lean up close to him, kissing his cheek. “it’s not like i find this boring, kento. besides, you’ve been out all day. think it’s time for a hair wash.”

“not again,” he playfully sulks, relaxing his arms as he watches you get up to grab the materials. you adored the playful side of him. he sits up, stretching his arms out over the edges of the tub. he intakes a single breath, the warm water perfectly surrounded him, he didn’t feel as tense as before. “mhmm, but alright.”

once you gather up his shampoo and conditioner, you kneel down. whilst making nanami face the other way, he lets off a soft sigh the minute your fingers make contact with his scalp.

“i missed you,” you softly hum, swiftly allowing your fingertips to run through his roots. nanami grows quiet as you speak. after all, your voice was forever his favorite thing to listen to. “actually, while i took a nap earlier i had a dream about you.”

“do tell me more, sweetheart,” nanami breathes, leaning right into your touch. your hands, gingerly running through his thin blond strands, scrubbing through his scalp, he simpers. “i wanna hear more about this dream.”

“welllll,” you sung, flicking off the shampoo cap. it was a loud ‘pop’ — and while you poured about a size of a quarter of it into your hand, you started to massage his scalp again. “call me cheesy, but i had a dream that you proposed to me.”

nanami goes quiet again, and then he softly smiles to himself.

“oh…? you dreamed about me proposing to you, hm?” and then the thought abruptly hit him. as you dug your fingertips into his hair tenderly, he leans his wet hair back against your chest. “… how do you feel about marriage? i’ve always wanted to know your stand on that.”

“i’m not opposed to it,” you whisper, making sure to pay close attention to his roots. nanami’s hair was so soft—every few seconds, he lets off a near purr at the way your fingers skim beneath his undercut.

he’d probably never flat out admit it, but he always treasured things like this. simple things like washing his hair, feeding him, anything.

you make him lean his head down for a more thorough reach before you smile. “i can see myself getting married one day.”

without even thinking, nanami murmurs, “did you… did you accept my proposal at least in your dream?”

after a few quiet seconds, you shyly smile. “i did.”

“you did,” he repeats with a soft nod, and it’s as if he’s deep in thought … pondering exactly what to say next.

nanami lets off a calm sigh at the feeling of you starting to rinse out his hair. your fingers were gentle, softly kneading through his scalp. you made sure to not miss a single spot, and he lefts off another hum. “ah, well. what if i told you a little secret, sweetheart?”

“hm?” you’d raise your brows, getting up to grab a dry towel. going back towards nanami, you squeeze out the very left remnants of excess water in his hair. vigorously rubbing it, you allow the towel to soak up and absorb the moisture. “tell me what, kento?”

he leans back against the tub, stretching his arms over the edges yet again. “c’mere.”

you wondered what he was planning, you have a mere simper playing against your lips before you get closer towards him. nanami stares at you through his peripherals with a gentle smile.

yet … once you get close, he pulls you into the water. you let off a surprised squeak once he catches you in his chest, your clothes now damp and practically sodden.

“k-kento! why’d you—”

“i wanna marry you,” he cuts you off, and the only thing that departs from your lips at that current moment was a sweet gasp. your breath got stolen from you, quite literally.

he had you pulled right into his bare, slightly hairy chest — well trimmed, and you suddenly got flushed from being so close to him like this. “i always hear you talking about settling down, and i wouldn’t mind letting you take my last name, my love.”

a few seconds pass, and your expression was so cute.

your eyebrows tug into a furrow before your wet chin presses against his abdomen. “i wanna marry you too, but you didn’t have to get me wet, kento.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, pressing a single kiss on the top of your forehead. “i just missed touching you, i like wrapping my arms around you,” and then he grins. “wait, did you just say you’d marry me too?”

nanami watches the abashed expression creep onto your face, its adorable. a single finger of his strokes your back before he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose.

“y-yes,” and your voice was soft, your heart raced the more he stared at you with nothing but the most kindest eyes. “i wanna marry you, kento.”

“let’s get married right here.” he utters, holding you close. he gives your frame that he held tightly a gentle squeeze.

“married … in the bathtub?”

“why not?” he hums, he was obviously teasing, but he got another smile out of you. nanami was so head over heels for you already, he can’t help but pepper a plethora of kisses all over your face. “mwah,” he kisses near your cheek, “mwah,” near your the side of your mouth, and “mwah,” he ends off with a quick kiss on your lips.

the look you had was so precious, he strokes a thumb against your cheek before speaking in a calm raspy voice.

“thank you for doing this for me though, my love,” and he stares into your eyes intently, gingerly rubbing his thumb against your glossed lips. “i don’t feel as stressed anymore from work. don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you’re welcome kento,” you mumble—sitting up from his chest, he smirks, watching you hold out your arms before pouting. “my pajamas are drenched though, thanks to you.”

“mmm. i’ll buy you some new ones, think of it as your first wedding gift.”

[dickaspointed]

𝑻𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 — 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨

𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

IN the night, that's when you met him most. just when the moon had set on his milky skin, when the beautiful shadows of his face were illuminated by the waking moon outside his venetian blinds.

his hands found the curve of your hips, gripping there as he helped you up. not a word or sound was uttered.

up and down, through hooded lids he watched. from the way your lips would part to let a little gasp out and decide against it, because you just didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how good he felt between your walls.

Heeseung’s hand traveled up the apex of your tummy, strumming his fingers up against your sternum before they wrapped around your throat to pull you closer, his lips whistling a warning into your ear.

"you better fucking let me hear you."

following his words he sharply thrusted up into your core making your hands shoot down to his shoulders, nails curling into his firm skin as you rode him. your mouth fell agape, his name rolling off your tongue like clockwork. you sung like a beautiful little canary, bubbling up every praise that you could offer someone’s dick. his fingers squeezed tighter than before, listening as your moans grew in pitch. you groped at his shoulders, shuddering above him as you rocked down against him.

Heeseung admired the way your eyes rolled back, your bottom lip swelling with redness from how hard you were biting at it. he brung your head forward, capturing those plushy red lips. he swallowed every single one of your whimpers and moans. besides the slick sounds of his cock fucking you senseless, the sounds of your sloppy kisses only fueled him to slam your hips down onto his. he felt the way your walls fluttered around him and he desperately chased after your orgasm.

“you fucking like that, huh? you’re swallowing up my cock, baby.” Heeseung breathed, he released your throat to hold both of your bruised hips. his fingers were making deep incantations that he’d definitely have to massage later. “fucckkk, i love the way you hug my cock, darling.”

your head dropped forward onto his shoulder, wrapping one arm around his neck while the other found purchase in his hair. you could only moan in response, feeling how you gushed with each dirty praise. your stomach was tightening fast and with each demolishing thrust you couldn’t hold on any longer.

“hee—please, please, please i’m cumming. i’m—“

“good fucking girl, cum on my cock. you deserve it.” he reached between your sweaty bodies, thumbing slow circles over your clit. “you got it baby, i’ve got you. right there, right there.”

you shuddered in delight, scraping your nails against his scalp before closing your fist full of his hair. you cried in pleasure, shaking as your orgasm wracked through your body. Heeseung wasn’t too far behind you, grunting into your arm as he painted your velvety walls in a transparent white.

“you okay baby? did i go too hard?” heeseung asked, searching your spent body for any answers. he ran his fingers through your hair, pressing it back from your dewy face. he chuckled at your dazed expression, softly rubbing your body against his to wake you from this daze.

“didn’t go h-hard enough,” you slurred, a sloppy smile etching across your features. heeseung could only press gentle kisses against your face before he gently laid you down to go run a nice warm bath. “how did i get so lucky?”

K BYEEEE !!!

[eddiernunson]

Be Quiet | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Blurb from my long form Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader story Trapped (Go check it out if you're in the mood for a long read)

[I'm not letting the notes I've gotten in the last 24 hours get to me, I swear]

Context? Meeting Uncle Wayne for the first time then fucking off to Eddie's room.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warning: squirting, light ball worship, oral (both), riding, slut shaming, dirty talk, *parent in the next room so shut up*, teasing/begging

“I know you’re nervous but it’s gotta happen some time.”

“Like you are meeting my mom and dad?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, forgetting you had a normal set of parents he still had to meet. “Damn. Right. Anyway. It’ll be fine.”

The door swings open without needing a key. The two of you walk in, seeing Wayne Munson perched on the couch with his legs bent and feet on the coffee table holding a beer and watching a rerun of Cheers. A cigarette in his mouth, inhaling, laughing, and coughing as Ted Danson says something rather funny.

He jumps as the door closes, apparently not hearing Eddie’s loud engine. “Oh, hey kid.” Wayne grunts, putting his feet off the table and getting up to greet his nephew. “I see you brought a friend?”

“Of sorts.” Eddie shrugs, his hand flexing in yours.

“Hello,” you greet him, your nervousness obvious in your voice as you greet him. You face him for the first time, taking in the man who you assumed is the one who raised Eddie. Wayne Munson looks like what someone would define as a blue collared man. The plaid he’s wearing, the scruff on his jeans, and the smell and tint of dirt on his skin. He has thin hair on his head, completely thinned out in the middle.

Bald. He’s bald.

He has a scruff beard, and he doesn’t look like the most approachable person in the world. However, the way this man smiled at Eddie told you everything you needed to know about him. You hold your hand to him, testing the waters. Eddie muffles a laugh, smiling over you at Wayne.

Wayne laughs silently at the extended hand, grabs it and yanks you into a hug. It startles you, but the smell of the same cologne you smell on Eddie mixed with his gruff laughter as you yelp is oddly comforting. “Oh sunshine, I found my nephew singing a pop song in the shower last Sunday morning. I think we’re way passed a handshake.”

Wayne gives you one last squeeze and lets you go. You turn back to face your boyfriend, anticipating his reaction to this.

Eddie was looking at Wayne, the face of one who was severely betrayed. “You really gotta bring up singing in the shower?”

Wayne put his hands up in surrender, laughing as he goes back to return to the couch where his beer was sat and his cigarette out from lack of use. “Hey, man. You haven’t sung like that for a couple of years. I just had to let this kid know how much she means to you. In case you haven’t gotten the message across.”

You smile already fond of his uncle. “Wait until you meet my mom” you say, attempting to make him feel better. “She has stories on stories against singing in the shower. Though I gotta know the artist.”

“Not saying shit.” Eddie states, bouncing onto his toes and back onto his heels, representing his stubbornness.

Wayne jogs lightly to you, and whispers “Madonna” right near your face and giggles as Eddie loudly protests this second act of betrayal.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see my girlfriend and my uncle teaming up against me coming. This was bound to happen with you two.” He says, sounding disappointed but there was a hint of a smile his face.

“You picked a good one, that’s why,” Wayne says, sat back on his couch and grabbing his lighter and cigarette. “Nice to meet you, sunshine.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Munson,” you reply, the feeling of Eddie’s hand grabbing yours.

“Please, Mr. Munson is my shit brother. Call me Wayne. Please.”

“Okay. Will do.” You smile, your breath taken away as Eddie tugs you straight to his room.

“Edward!” Wayne calls as you almost reach his room.

Eddie sighs and turns around to ask what he wanted.

“Either be quiet or turn some music on. I don’t want to hear anything. Capiche?” He asks, a mildly smug but mostly a tired man who did not need to hear that on his one night off this week.

“Got it.” And the door closes behind you two.

-

You land on the bed with an oof as you lie onto your back, Eddie running around his room like a headless chicken. Eddie puts on some Journey, a tape he once received as a gift and only plays as background music for more tamer things. He turns up the volume enough, but not enough to drown your voices out.

Sitting up, you give him a look with an eyebrow raised, and your core heating up from the mere indication of putting on slightly loud yet tame music. You watch Eddie as he yanks off his jacket and vest, pulling off his shirt as well. He slips his hair back half up, and finally turns to face you with a knowing smirk.

“What are you up to?” You ask as he crawls on to the bed.

“Shh. Time for kissing.” He whispers and leans in with his delicious lips.

No matter how many times you have seen the sight of Eddie leaning in to kiss you, it never gets old. You’re absolutely positive it won’t ever get old.

Eddie’s lips are on yours, leading with a confidence that grows each time. If you’re not careful he will become hella cocky in his abilities. You meet his kiss with enthusiasm, opting to open your mouth ask for permission for your tongue to enter his. He grants you permission, a dark chuckle in the back of his throat as he sharply inhales. He places a hand into your hair, his thumb caressing the skin right underneath it.

You don’t know how, but you were getting wetter from kissing him alone. You could feel an urge to start to grind, your thighs clenching tightly. Lying down on your back, Eddie follows you down, slipping one hand underneath your shirt, the contact of his hand on your waist making you whimper.

“Feeling needy, princess?” He asks, his voice light. “You want me to do something?” Eddie starts kissing your neck, his tongue teasing by barely gracing your skin.

One arm is around your torso, his body lined up against yours and propped onto his elbow. You nod your head yes as he continues his assault on your neck, starting to use his teeth.

“What do you want me to do, use your words.” He whispers against your neck, his voice nice and smooth. He feels you clench your thighs, most of your lower body tightening right up. “Oh you are very needy, my love. But you’re going to have to tell me if you want me to do something, otherwise I’ll continue to do PG rated things on your neck.”

You whimper, thinking he wouldn’t be as cruel as to only stick to over your clothes type touching for the sake of teasing you. “Please, please touch me, Eddie. I need it. I need it so bad.”

“I am touching you” he mutters pressing his hand under your shirt on your torso a little harder on your skin.

A sound comes out of you that sounds like a sob, a pathetic little noise from being riled up so much already. You know if he were to take off your pants your panties would have a nice little wet patch on them. “My pussy, Eddie please. Touch it, I’m so fucking wet.” You beg him, whimpering.

Eddie admires the way he was able to make you fall apart simply by kissing you. He has been thinking of attempting something like this with you for about as long as he could handle. Your face was already scrunched up from the teasing, whimpering from the way he was teasing you and almost denying you what you so desperately craved.

“There you go sweetheart.” Eddie sits up, you with him. He crawls down to your waist, starting on the waistband of your pants. He tugs on it, forcing you to lift your hips. He throws them across the room and gets a good look at your pretty yellow panties with the bow on it you decided to wear, nearly groaning at the sight of the darkened patch at the centre. “Look at you,” he nearly chokes on air, catching his breath at the way your hips are so easily separated and you panting, staring up at him. “Is this all for me? Just from my lips kissing yours?”

“I’ve been wanting you all day,” you mumble, embarrassed. “Been thinking about your cock in class.”

“Oh, you dirty girl,” he mutters, entirely too turned on at the idea of you sitting in class and writing notes while thinking of him bending you over a desk in a nearby empty classroom. He rewards your confession with a kiss on your thigh, causing it to shake on almost immediate contact, the lick sending pleasure shocks up your body. He looks at you, surprised at the reaction, but it only encourages him to continue.

He laps further up your thigh causing your pussy to start to clench at the very idea of being in contact with his fucking beautiful tongue. Finally, he gets to the centre, the heated core where your pussy is begging for any sort of contact. “Baby, please” You beg him. “Lick my pussy. Eat me out. Fuck please.”

Usually, Eddie is the more verbal one, but you’re starting to catch on to the fact that every time you beg or confess something he rewards you. So here, instead of teasing you over your undies like he was planning, he rips them off in a singular motion. As soon as your panties are off, he attacks your clit with his tongue, your pussy already completely covered in your slick.

“Look how wet and pretty this little pussy is,” he mutters against your clit, the vibrations sending waves up your stomach. If he continues like this, you won’t last much longer. He slips in a finger, pumping it and sucking on your clit at the same time. “How does this feel, baby?”

You were so far gone you were surprised it even registered to answer, your stomach starting to tighten in the all too familiar way. “Feels- feels so good, Ed. Keep doing that.”

Eddie sucks on your clit even harder and adds a finger. You feel fuller and a red-hot heat starts on your clit, spreading in your legs and your stomach. It felt intense, and new. There was a very small part of you that remembered Wayne was in the living room. Instead of the loud moans you wanted to let out, it ended up being choked out moans, staying in the back of your throat.

You struggling to keep quiet was like music to Eddie’s ears. The way your legs were entirely tensed up was telling him you were close. He was surprised how little he did today to get you so close to the edge, wondering how long you must’ve been revved up for. He sucks as hard as he can on your clit, adding a third finger to you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of heat, something inside you tells you to push and relax a muscle you didn’t know you had. You feel heat all over your body, focused on your pussy and thighs and you hear a gushing sound. It takes you a second to come back to earth, your heart racing and giggles forming in the back of your throat. You sit up slowly to ask him who the fuck taught him to do that cause it wasn’t you when a large wet patch underneath your ass startles you.

It didn’t even occur to you that you have squirted, you were so blissed out. Confused you look at the darkened patch on the bed and then up to Eddie’s face. It’s covered in your slick, and he looks as stunned as you were. “Holy shit I made you squirt.” He mutters, taking one thumb and running it along his face to suck on your slick.

“I-I didn’t know I could even do that.” You whisper, starting at the large wet stain on his bed.

“That was so fucking sexy, baby.” He whispers back, leaning in to kiss you.

You lean back after receiving one kiss, the taste of your pussy/cum turning you on more than you thought it would. “You don’t want to wipe your face off?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, sweetheart?” He asks, dead serious. “I’m wearing this like a fucking trophy. I, a man who has fucked a total of three times, have made my girlfriend squirt. If I can do it any guy can.”

“Not just any guy is willing to go down on a girl like that, though.” You mutter, searching his face.

Eddie rolls his eyes, pouncing on you so you lie back onto the bed. “A guy who refuses to go down on a girl is a fucking whimp. It’s one of the best acts of worship you could possibly do.”

This sentence turns you on so much that you moan softly, leaning in for another you-tasting kiss. You reach down for his pants unbuckling his jeans and belt, needing to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue as lust overtakes and overconsumes your body. “Wanna taste you, now.” You mutter, leaning away to focus on getting his pants off.

After fidgeting for too long, you maneuver him onto his back getting a better angle to blow him.

“Oh, fuck please.” Eddie mutters, a fraction of his confidence gone in the idea of your mouth around his cock.

You yank his briefs and his jeans off all at once, having teased him a bit last time. You just wanted to show him how much making you feel so damn good made you feel. You crawl up to his cock and start fisting him without any warning. Eddie lurches in your hold, his chest lifting with is legs. He really needed the release as well, it seems.

Your hand stops moving, and you lean down, gently kissing along the shaft in different spots. You go up and down several times, not wanting him to know when you were taking him in his mouth. After your third round of up and down Eddie’s hips buck up, silently asking you fucking suck on his cock already. You giggle softly and decide to take pity on him. You open your mouth and finally take him in, his cock going to the centre of your mouth.

Eddie moans softly and you feel his thighs tense. You start sucking and bobbing, getting a rhythm started. “Oh Jesus you do so fucking well with your pretty little mouth, baby.” He rambles, his mouth talking out of habit.

You hum, causing a vibration sent down. Taking your mouth off, you decide something spontaneous, and take one of his balls onto your mouth, sucking on it loudly.

Eddie jerks up in response to this, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. You feel proud of yourself for getting this reaction and you move to the next one. You bring his heavy cock back into your mouth and take him in as much as you can. You start the rhythm again, and you can feel him getting more desperate as you continue.

Eddie taps your head, asking you silently to come up to him. You wanted to continue sucking him off, but you obliged anyhow. It was proving that listening to him paid off.

“Come here.” He says when you crawl up to him. “You do so well, baby. Be a good girl and put your cock in, yeah? I wanna fuck you so bad now.”

You take off your baggy shirt, revealing you wore no bra. Your nipples were nice and hard, Eddie grabbing one of your tits as soon as he saw them. You whimper at the sensation, feeling nice and tingly. Finally, you were both naked. You move your leg over his lap, straddling him. You haven’t ridden him yet and you were fucking excited to. As you sit down, Eddie grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance but just off. He takes his hand off his cock and you whine at the loss of the possibility of you finally being full of him. “No, no. Remember, I told you to put it in. You can do it, my little slut. Go ahead.”

You reach down between your legs to line up his cock with your entrance. Eddie looks down as the head starts to go in, moaning at the sight of your hand doing such a thing. You moan as his cock enters, both at the slight pain and the immense pleasure already pooled in your tummy again.

As the pain settles after a shorter period than last time, you go as far as you can go, not warning Eddie and making him moan loudly. “Shh.” You say, placing your hand over his mouth. “Remember.”

Eddie nods, his eyes wide, but you feel his cock twitch. You almost remove your hand when he desperately grabs it and places it back over his mouth, nodding. You smile, this being far too hot to handle. You add light pressure with your hand, and finally, you’re able to finish sinking onto his cock. “Holy fucking- holy shit.” You whisper as he moans loudly into your hand.

Slowly, you start grinding on his cock, unable to remember when the last time you rode anyone was but knowing you still had some skill regardless. He was longer than you figured, sliding up and farther than you thought you could. As you slam down onto it again Eddie rolls his eyes and is muffled as he moans in your mouth again, a strain of profanities you wish you could hear.

Soon, you find your thighs aren’t doing the job you needed them to, and you stand onto your feet in a froggy style and start bouncing on his cock. This causes a moan so loud your hand barely hid it, Eddie pussy drunk as you stare half lidded into his eyes. His cock is hitting the right spot and you can feel your self getting close as he starts assisting you, moving his hips.

Before you knew what was happening, he got impatient and grabbed your waist and turned you onto your back. You were so surprised your hand flew off his mouth. He put his hand on yours, wanting to be in control. “Now you can moan as long as you want, you little slut,” he whispers, his hand hard on your mouth but literally the hottest thing in the world. He changes from missionary and hikes your legs up so you two were in an L.

You were accidentally edged earlier, but you felt it coming just as fast again, and the way your knees bent on his chest was the dead giveaway. “Are you close, princess? Come on, cum. I wanna feel you as you moan onto my hand. Come on. Come on you slut. Come-”

Eddie got more aggressive, but it did the trick with the slut shaming doing more than you ever expected. The coil in your tummy snaps, sending waves of pleasure through your body and a white-hot flash past your eyes. You yell loudly into his hand, yelling words you weren’t sure they would make sense even if you didn’t have his hand clamped over your mouth.

As Eddie felt you come around his cock, your wet heat spasming it drew him to his orgasm faster than he was expecting. “Holy shit – Im gonna,” he stops, white hot cum shooting into your pussy, his orgasm overtaking him far faster than he expected.

His hand leaves your mouth, and he falls next to you. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” he starts to say, but you crawl into his arms and cut him off.

“Don’t care. I will need a morning after pill to make sure we don’t fuck over your uncle a second time, but I don’t care. I love the feeling of your cum in me.” You tell him honestly, leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m pretty sure I made you up,” Eddie mutters as he musters the energy to get up. He does, grabbing a towel and coming back to clean you up. “Hold on, be right back.”

Eddie gets changed into sweats and a band t shirt and runs into the trailer to get a glass of water. When he returns, he has a wet cloth as well and a shit eating grin on his face.

“What happened?” You ask, afraid to know the answer.

“He left a note.”

You didn’t see it when he first came in, a cloth against the mug of water he brought. “What does it say?”

Eddie giggles as he lifts it up and clears this throat dramatically. “It says, ‘You kids don’t know the meaning of the word quiet. I went for a walk. I’ll be back at 11.”

You put your hands over your mouth, mortified that after meeting his uncle its followed by fucking too loud and forcing him out of his own trailer. Eddie doesn’t seem to find this embarrassing, but rather funny. Silently you ask him why he’s laughing. “I didn’t think I would ever be able to fuck so loud that my uncle had to leave, seeing as my virginity status was bound to last until college.” He sighs looking off into distance. “Dreams really do come true.”

You get up, knees weak to grab the cloth in his hands. “I’ll take that.”

“AH ah ah.” He yanks it out of reach. “Lie down. Let me take care of you. Then we’ll go watch something in the living room before I drive you home, ok?”

You lie back down, Eddie placing a nice warm cloth on your pussy to clean it. When he’s done, he gives you some water. “Do you need a shower?” He asks, offering a clean towel from the linen closet. You nod your head no, thinking you’ll just take one at home and you wanted more time together.

Eddie shrugs and gives you your clothes and lets you know he’ll meet you in the living room and it’s his turn to pick the movie.

After Wayne gives you an extra half hour of wiggle room, he finds you sitting on the couch, you refusing to make eye contact as he walks in. He sits next to you anyway, already forgotten.

-

You guyssss have blown me away with the love you have shown these little blurbs I cannot thank you enough. Please let me know what you thought pls I love reading it... xoxo

Again there are more smut scenes in the long story that I won't be posting as a stand alone (like Eddie's their first time.)

[kangaroosmile]

Rainy hike, warm bath, soft kisses - Bang Chan

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description: After a rainy hike with Chan, Seungmin and Jisung, Chan invites you to his apartment because you are cold and he has a bathtub. After that confessions happen.

pairing: Bang Chan × gnreader

genre: friends to lovers; they like eachother but don't get it; confessions, soft making out

word count: ~2,3 k

You can find more of my stories under Stray Kids Masterlist

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“I told you we should have taken the other hiking trail down. It would have been way faster”, whined Jisung behind you. Chan, who was right in front of you, looked back, his hood nearly falling off.

“This is the safer option, Sung.”

“Just for your information, my socks are wet”, announced Seungmin from behind Jisung. You started to laugh.

“Mine too.” And with this all three men started to laugh. When you started your hike early in the morning, the sun was still shining but just as you had half of the distance behind you, it started to rain. At first it wasn't much but soon the intensity increased. Now 2 hours later you all were soaking wet.

“We should be at our car in about 15 minutes”, announced Chan after looking at his phone. Seungmin, Jisung and you made a loud “yay” sound, which had Chan laughing but still shaking his head.

When you finally reached Chan's car, you hurried to get in.

“How could the forecast mess up so much? It wasn't supposed to rain till next week”, whined Jisung, taking off his shoes and socks to dry them a bit. As he did, you turned up the temperature but still shivered.

“There will be some traffic jam”, muttered Seungmin, his eyes glued to his phone. You let out a sigh and rubbed your arms to try and warm you up a bit.

“I'm hungry.” You couldn't hold back and started to giggle.

“You sound like a child Jisung”, laughed Chan but then looked briefly at you. “There should be some snacks in the gloves box. Can you look?” You opened the gloves box carefully and took out a few protein bars. Your mouth twisted for a second. It wasn't like you hated protein bars but you didn't like the consistency that many protein bars had. You gave Jisung and Seungmin each one bar and opened one for yourself. Just as you were ready to take the first bite you could hear Chan making a soft sound. You eyes him from the side, let out a sigh and held the bar in front of his mouth. With a light giggle he bit into the protein bar and began to chew.

“Not even a thank you? And I thought you were a gentlemen”, you muttered under your breath but loud enough to be heard, holding back a grin that was starting to spread on your lips.

“Thank you”, he mumbled with his mouth still full.

“Hyung, you are so disgusting! Don't talk with your mouth full”, Seungmin laughed and reached forward to close Chan's mouth. As Chan and Seungmin continued this little fight, you laid back and began to eat your own protein bar. At least the consistency was somewhat manageable.

When Chan stopped the car in front of Seungmins and Jisungs apartment complex, you still felt cold.

“Say hi to Minho and tell him to make you some hot soup”, said Chan, looking back at the two men. Jisung started to laugh.

“You know him, Hyung. He probably already did it but gonna act like it's nothing.”

“And he is gonna nag about us going out on a hike today”, Seungmin continued with a soft smile on his lips and a certain warmth in his voice.

“It's so sweet but disgusting at the same time”, you commented with a laugh and only a few would notice that it was actually a sad, longing one. You felt Chan's glance on you but chose to ignore it. Chan waited until the door to their apartment complex felt shut behind Seungmin and Jisung. For a moment you two stayed silent.

Chan turned towards you a bit in his seat.

“Are you still cold?” You nodded slowly as you rubbed your hands together.

“Should have put on something more warming”, you sighed. Chan started the car.

“If you want you can come with me. You can take a bath that will warm you up and after that I will drive you home. What do you think?” He was saying it so casually but you noticed his fingers drumming against the wheel, giving him away. But why would he be even nervous, you thought.

“Won't your girlfriend find it weird when another person takes a bath in your bathtub?” You thought you said something wrong when Chan kept silent, but them he let out a low sigh, as he rubbed his neck.

“We broke up a couple of weeks ago”, he whispered. “So no need to think about her.” His words made you speechless for a moment.

“What?” He looked at you for a second before he focused his eyes back on the street. “Why… didn't you tell me? We have been friends for ages.” Friends… that's all you ever gonna be, you had to remind yourself. Even though you sometimes wished for more. Chan let out a short laugh which didn't sound real. He stayed silent for a moment, it seemed to you as if he was trying to find the right words.

“Well… I guess it was never really the right time. I didn't want to bother you with this when I knew you had a lot on your mind because of work.” Your hand found Chan's shoulder softly patting it.

“That's really kind of you but you could never bother me, Channie”, you muttered. Chan hummed at that and looked at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. “Please come to me next time when something happens. Just because you are older, doesn't mean you have to keep everything to yourself.”

Chan stopped at the parking lot in front of his apartment complex but instead of getting out he leaned over the central console and pulled you into a hug. It was so out of the blue you started to laugh at his action but soon you melted into his hug.

“You really are cold. Let's get you inside”, Chan whispered as he backed away and opened the door. You followed him and together you walked into his apartment complex. Everything was still the same. Well it wasn't that long ago that you were last here but it had been at least 3 months. You placed your shoes next to Chans.

“You can already start the water. I will look for some clothes you can wear and also a towel.” With a short nod you agreed and nearly sprinted to his bathroom to start the water. The sound of the water made you feel calm. As you watched the water get higher and higher in the small tube, Chan knocked at the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” As You turned, you hummed and watched as Chan opened the door. He held his hands out and you grabbed the pile.

“Thanks, Channie”, you said with a smile that Chan returned. For a moment he stayed where he was. “Chan?”, you asked with a light chuckle. You weren't sure but it seemed as if Chans ears were getting redder. He muttered something under his breath which sounded like an apology and escaped his bathroom. This was a bit strange, you thought as you watched him leave. You pulled your still slightly wet clothes off your skin and got into the warm bath. You let out a low hum and closed your eyes for a moment.

It took a while but slowly your feets were getting warmer again. Then suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“Chan?”, you ask confused.

“I'm sorry… I need to take my medicine now and I forget to take them out before you got in.” Without even seeing him, you knew he was embarrassed. “Can I come in?” You felt a sudden rush of panic rise up in you. You sat up and turned your back towards the door. Only your head and shoulders were over the water.

“Come in”, you shouted after a deep breath and a few seconds later you heard the door.

“Really, I'm sorry I didn't take them with me”, he muttered as he started to go through his bathroom cabinet. You started to giggle. How absurd this situation was. When you turned your face to watch him, you saw his red ears but also the wide smile on his face. “This situation is kinda strange isn't it?”

“It is”, you laughed and smiled at him when his eyes found yours. For a moment you two just stared at each other.

“Did the bath warm you up?”, he asked as he turned towards you a bit. Maybe you should find it strange that he still was in the bathroom, but you didn't.

“Yes it did. Thanks again for inviting me”, you said. “I will probably get out soon.” This got Chan moving again, as if he forgot you were sitting in the bathtub naked. He coughed and turned around.

“Sure. I will be in the living room.” With that he went out, closing the door quietly behind him. You let out a sigh as you stood up and got out of the bathtub. You patted yourself dry and got into Chans clothes. It felt oddly domestic having his clothes in your body. You let it a sigh as you watched yourself in the mirror. You left the bathroom, finding Chan in his small living room. When you entered he looked up from his phone some words already on his lips but he stopped.

“What?”, you asked with a light laugh on your lips, looking down on the slightly bigger shirt and shorts. “I know it's too big but at least it's comfy.”

“You didn't ask why we broke up”, he muttered all of the sudden, looking at everything but you. This took you by surprise.

“I thought because you didn't tell me before you didn't want to talk about why you broke up.” You walked up to him and sat down next to him. “Why did you two break up?” Instead of answering directly he grabbed one of the pillows and started to play with it.

“Well you see… I really liked her but there was still somebody on my mind. Somebody that was not her”, he started to explain. “And I really tried to forget that person but I couldn't and my Ex noticed that. We talked about it and broke up.” You let out a hum and nodded. As you looked at Chan, you noticed that he was holding back. It seemed like he wanted to say more but he didn't.

“There is more, right?” Slowly he nodded. “Will you tell me?”

“That somebody…”, he began but stopped for a second. “That somebody is you.” Saying that you were surprised was an understatement. You were speechless, didn't know what to reply. All of this time he also liked you? “And I… I know that you most certainly don't feel the same. And that's alright. Maybe it's a bit selfish but I just needed to get this off my chest.” He rambled, still playing with the pillow in his lap. “You just looked so… like home right now. As if we were in a relationship. And… I just needed to tell you this.” Slowly, very slowly to not scare him, you placed your hands on his and noticed that his hands were shaking the tiniest bit.

“You know”, you began to speak, forcing yourself to stay calm. “You are wrong.” Carefully you rubbed over the outside of his hand. His eyes found yours and he looked so confused.

“What?”, he asked quietly.

“You are wrong when you say, you know I don't have feelings for you. I do have feelings for you and that for an awful long time, if I'm honest.” His eyes widened and his lips parted slightly. Slowly, without looking, he placed the pillow to the side.

“Can I kiss you?” You didn't answer him, instead you leaned in and placed your lips on his. You felt his hands that found their ways towards your cheeks, cupping them. For you that wasn't enough. You needed him closer. You placed your hand on his side and slightly pulled it towards you which he understood and closed the distance between you two. He let out a low hum when you started to carry his back with your fingertips and deepened the kiss. You didn't know someone could be so passionate but still so careful and soft.

Sadly you two were still human beings that needed air to live so you parted but only a few centimetres. You felt his warm breath on your lips which sent shivers down your spine. You let out a sigh and leaned your forehead against his.

“It feels like a dream”, he whispered under his breath, a soft smile on his lips. A light laugh escaped your lips.

“Then this is a dream I never want to wake up from”, you answered as you leaned in again and gave him a short kiss.

“Stay tonight?”, asked Chan after the kiss.

“Is this a question or a statement?” You tried to sound serious but soon you started to giggle. He gave you a soft slap against your knee, which had you laughing even harder. All Chan did was pout.

“I will stay”, you answered his question. “And now stop the pouting, Channie.”

“Only if I get another kiss”, he answered with tinted cheeks. And who were you to deny his sweet request? So you gave him another soft kiss and honestly you could do this forever.

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Thank you for reading. I hope you are now again as delulu as I am haha. 💕

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 131 }

pillowtalk.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

you woke up suddenly, feeling groggy as your eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness that covers your room. only a sliver of moonlight was seen, casting a faint, pale blue glow from your open window.

and yet, your eyes could not even be bothered to bask in its beauty. instead, you divert your attention towards your beloved boyfriend, currently sleeping next to you.

the sight of him being so vulnerable made you smile. sung jinwoo had always been a messy sleeper, with his hair all mussed against the plush pillows while a trail of drool was seen against the corner of his lips. a soft giggle escapes from your parted lips as you gently wipe away at it with the corner of your blanket.

if only the hunter association could see him now, they probably would have never believed that such a powerful man could sleep so... peacefully.

jinwoo exuded none of his powers as a monarch in this peaceful moment- you catching a tiny glimpse of this snapshot of his life. no daggers or poisoned blades were clutched tightly within his hands-

he had no glowing eyes flashing purple that masks his stormy grey gaze, which were now only covered by thin lids that moved in tune to his dreams.

no, for in this moment, he was free- free to be his true self when it was just you and him.

a sudden urge to speak to him was felt bubbling against your throat, and even though jinwoo was sleeping; couldn't even hear what you were saying-

you had to get this off your chest.

"jinwoo sung... when you're with me... you don't have to act like the shadow monarch, or take on the title of the strongest in the world..."

you bask in his gentle snores, reaching out to brush back his hair before continuing.

"i just wanted to reassure you, that you have no reason to be that way around me. when you're with me, you can act silly; you can act scared and anxious... you can tell me all of your fears... and i'll still love you."

it was as though a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders when you spoke those words to him. you smile, brushing against his strong cheekbones with the back of your hand, ready to fall back asleep-

when you were suddenly gripped by jinwoo's powerful grasps. his large hand encircles your slender wrists, making you gasp in response when he pulls you towards his chest.

his hold on you was tight, with the tall hunter practically crushing you to his chest. jinwoo's voice, still hoarse from sleep, manages to murmur to you when he presses his lips against your forehead.

"i know... and for that, i love you for it."

you began to blush when he says to you.

"i remember it well... how you were with me even when i was known as the weakest hunter..."

jinwoo pulls away, his sleepy, grey eyes looking deeply into yours. "and you, my love, will be the only one who can see me when i am the most vulnerable."

"jinwoo..."

your hands cling to the front of his shirt, feeling him place a chaste kiss against your lips.

"if anyone were to try and kill me... then my enemies know that they need to use you... you could stab me in the heart, and i'd still love you."

jinwoo chuckles darkly while pressing another kiss against your lips, his words making you cry because of how deeply his devotion ran for you.

"you're my world... my better half, the light to my darkness... the other side of me."

jinwoo sighs before laying back in bed, taking you with him as he plays with your strands of hair. feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you tell him.

"i love you."

"i love you too, you adorable, mushy love of mine. now... sleep."

you heed his gentle command, seeming to slump within his arms automatically, your eyelids turning heavier as you slowly closed them. as your breathing slowly evens out, alerting him of your sleeping state, jinwoo felt greatly amused by this when he brings you closer into his embrace, placing a final kiss against your forehead in response.

perhaps he would show you that pretty diamond ring he kept tucked away inside one of his drawers, just to see you smiling and happy once more.

a.n. - happy belated birthday, jinwoo sung. this was written as a gift from me to you to let you know that you are greatly loved by me, too. mwah mwah 🥰

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[remedyturtles]

10 with Leo and Raph would be so interesting. (Thought I can't really picture either of them saying somthing that mean to eachother, so maybe mystics are involved?)

I hope you have a nice day!

great minds think alike y'all. thanks @bluemoonsymphonies and anon for the prompt! i hope u both enjoy....

wordcount 1k, pre-movie

10. "Please... what am I doing wrong?" "What aren't you doing wrong?!"

Leo’s throat hurt. 

Just add it to the list of bullshit that Raph was doing to him. Because there was absolutely no reason that Raph had to come and interrupt him while he was snoozing on the bean bag. Like, this lecture could’ve totally waited until later. Maybe after Leo had gotten some fucking sleep. 

“You’re not taking this seriously!” Raph said.

“You could not be more of a broken record if you tried, Rapha.” Leo hadn’t gotten up from the bean bag and suffocated a yawn into his fist. He was tired of the grating arguments and he was tired, just bone tired of the fighting for no reason. And tired in general. Because his head was so loud and when he laid down to sleep there was just… screaming there too. 

“That’s because you’re not listening to me.” Raph poked him right between the eyes. “I gotta drill it in that empty head somehow.”

Leo twitched. That was a bit harsh, especially since it wasn’t a gentle poke. He was feeling a little ganged up on and crawled out of the bean bag to stand his ground, crossing his arms. “Yeesh, tell me how you really feel.” 

“I think you’re lazy and unmotivated.” Raph scoffed. “We’ve got so much we could be doing and you’re sleeping in the middle of the day.”

Leo… paused. Stared at his brother with a bit of hurt shock. He was really coming at him, no holds barred. He held up his hands in surrender and said, “And wow, I think you’re a huge jerk. What the hell, dude? For your information, I barely slept last night, so get off me.”

Something flickered in Raph’s eyes. But it didn’t stay. He scoffed again, louder and more derogatory, raising up his lip to sneer with his snaggletooth. “You’re not even trying.”

“Wow.” Leo repeated. Hands still raised, skin goosebumping, a chill from the undisguised scorn. This was different from the usual annoyed arguing. This was … mean. “Okay. Please, let's hear it. What am I doing wrong, then?”

“What aren't you doing wrong?” Raph spat back, chest heaving. Genuine anger sung hot and heavy. 

Leo stared. This sounded a lot like the inside of his own head. Which didn't make sense, because that wasn't Raph. He pushed and he pushed but he was never like this. Not his Raph. Not his lovable big lug of a brother who truly only wanted the best for all of them. 

“Nothing to say?” Raph tilted his head to the side. His eyes were rather blank, now that Leo was making painful eye contact with him. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Leo prompted.

Raph blinked rapidly, surprised, then shook his head. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who's a problem here."

"Yeah, something is definitely wrong." Leo stepped forward, cataloguing other symptoms as he went. "You give me a hard time, you piss me off, and you nag me. But you're never, ever mean. So what gives?"

Raph was sweating. Not any of his usual sweat, not a scent Leo could pinpoint with scary accuracy. Something unheard of. When Leo got closer, he could see the pin-pricked pupil and too-quick breathing. He practically growled at Leo as he got close. 

"Relax." Leo smiled, charming, getting another step closer to the lion's den. Flickering his gaze over Raph to try and find some kind of clue. "I get you, I know you want me to try, etc etc. But you wouldn't just brush past me telling you I hadn't slept, because you know I hate being honest about that. You'd be beating my ass with a pillow to go to bed then and try again in the morning. So either you've been possessed by a demon or cursed. Which is it?"

"I'm not –" Raph lurched forward.

But Leo had already spotted it. He pinched the little bug between his thumb and forefinger and pulled – a parasitic scarab bit down into the skin of his neck. The moment it left Raph's body, the little pincers wiggled agitatedly in the air, and Leo surveyed the bug with a distasteful eye. 

Raph inhaled sharply, hand flying to his neck, and took two staggering steps backwards. He breathed, "What the fuck."

Leo waved the evil little beetle at him. "Did you piss off someone? Maybe walk through a magical rainforest?"

"I – I – " Raph's face morphs into one of pure horror. "I'm so sorry."

"Aw, buddy." Leo opened a portal and flicked the beetle through it, sending the fucker to the moon. Then he waved it away and opened his hands in offer. "It's okay. I know you better than that." 

Raph scooped him up in a hug so tight it took his breath away. He squeezed and squeezed and Leo bore it with the patience of someone who'd been a teddy bear for this man many a time. 

"It's okay." Leo mumbled to him. 

"Not really." Raph replied, miserable.

"You didn't mean it." Leo shrugged.

The arms around him tightened. Raph shuddered a breath.

"Okay, maybe you meant it a little bit." Leo amended, because it wasn't like this conversation was new. Just the vitriol at which he spat it. "But bud, I know you're not coming at me to hurt me. I'd never think that. You're literally doing this because you want me to be my best. I'm not stupid. I'm just really, really good at acting like it."

Raph pulled back enough to show his red eyes. "Then why won't you work with me here?"

Leo couldn't say, because I'm scared my best isn't good enough. Instead he pat his big brother's arm and said, "Let's get you checked out and make sure that beetle didn't cause any lasting effects, hey?"

"Leo–" Raph growled.

Too late. Leo eeled out of his grip and danced away, waving over his shoulder. "Come on, chop chop, I don't have all day you know."

Raph… sighed. And followed, shoulders hanging.

[greynatomy]

where were you in the morning? - five

alessia russo x reader

this was very rushed but it’s been in the drafts so decided to just give it an ending. last part of this mini series.

previous

———

You were getting some final touches done to your in ear packs when the stage manager knocked on the dressing room door.

“You’re on in five, Y/LN.”

You nod, turning to your manager.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Walking towards the stage, shaking out your nerves, you wait for your cue.

“Give it up for Y/N Y/LN!”

Walking towards the piano, you take your seat as the spotlight shines on you. Your fingers dance on the keys, playing the melody of the song.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Jack frost nipping at your nose Yuletide carols being sung by a choir And folks dressed up like Eskimos

Your eyes are closed, not wanting to look at the audience, afraid that you’d mess up.

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow Will find it hard to sleep tonight

They know that Santa’s on his way He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh And every mother's child is gonna spy To see if reindeers really know how to fly

Opening your eyes, you look out to the crowd, spotlights scanning the audience when your eyes lock onto a familiar figure — the girl who’s been stuck on your mind for months.

Unable to look away, you finished the rest of the song eyes locked in her. Hushed whispers spread amongst the audience as you have not looks away from where she stood. You thought she looked beautiful.

Finally able to look away, you sing the last notes. With a nod of acknowledgment to Alessia, you exit the stage, feeling as if you could breath again.

“You did good.” Alina gives you a pat on the back. Giving her a smile, you go back into the green room to remove the wires from your body. “Go out there and mingle for a bit.”

Nodding, you grab your phone and make your way out to the party. People come up to you left and right, some friends, many of them fans asking about new music and a possible tour, only giving them smiles and vague answers.

An hour of nonstop conversations and interactions, you feel a bit overwhelmed. Excusing yourself from the conversation about something you weren’t paying attention to, you make your way out to the balcony.

Not even a minute later, you hear the door open and close. Closing your eyes in annoyance, you turn to the person to tell them you just wanted a bit of peace when you see who walked through the door.

“Alessia.”

Her lips form a straight line, seeming to not know what to say.

“Y/N. Hi.”

You were frozen, not expecting her to follow you out here.

“Seem’s like we have a thing with meeting up outside of parties.”

“Seem’s like we do.” After a moment of silence and staring, Alessia places herself next to you. “I heard your new album.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, some of my friends are huge fans apparently and that’s how I made the connection that you were, well, you.” She shrugs.

“Yeah… I was hoping you’d have reached out when it came out.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. So bad. But I chickened out.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’ve never slept with someone after knowing them barely a couple of hours and freaked out. I didn’t know if you’d want to see me again, which is stupid now that I think about it cause you write this whole song about me basically ghosting you and how you wished I left my number.”

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. Don’t spiral. No need for that.” You pull her into you, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. “Maybe we should start over? Is that something you want?”

“Yes, please.”

“Well, then.” You step back, holding a hand out. “Hey, I was just over there and saw you and couldn’t help but introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. Name’s Alessia.” She takes your hand into her’s, shaking it gently.

“Say, Alessia, do you maybe, want to get out of here?”

“I’d love to.”