#i simply have no desire for little mini mes

[zhenne]

boss’ daughter — mini series masterlist !

dr.zayne + f.reader

syn. ZAYNE WITH THE DAUGHTER OF THE HOSPITAL’S CHAIRMAN

wc. 1.2k (updated after each part)

warnings. fem reader, reader is not mc, slow burn, eventual smut, mentions of smoking (reader), mentions of alcohol, use of y/n, colleagues to friends to lovers, probably ooc, slight age gap (reader is 20-23, Zayne is 28-30: pick your poison)

[ pt. 1 ] [ pt. 2 ] [ pt. 3 ]

[ intro ] — wc. 1.1k

Shit. You can’t help the frustration welling up in your chest. It was dark, rainy, and above all else, you were exhausted. As if matters couldn’t get worse, your chauffeur had been called in to assist the chairman, your father, with other business partners – effectively leaving you stranded outside the hospital’s back entrance. Calm down, Y/N, you tell yourself, taking a deep breath to quiet your tired irritation. 

You had been called to the hospital to monitor a board meeting while your father was attending a private convention hosted by a sister hospital. Usually, your duties were more prevalent by title than actual business ministrants, but there was little room for arguing when you knew you had the credentials to be deemed an appropriate substitute. 

While you appreciated the medical field and all the professionals within their respective departments, medicine was not your passion. Despite this, your family deemed it vital that you attend a prestigious university and earn highest marks towards degrees in Public Health, Biochemistry, and —eventually—Doctor of Medicine. You do well enough in your studies, ranking within the top 10 of your class, but it felt listless, a secondhand dedication. 

You clutch the handle of your umbrella tighter as a cold gust tunnels through the channel of highrise buildings. Fuck, if you knew you’d be stranded you would have just called a cab, but you knew your chances of getting one as the evening rush loomed into fullswing were next to none. Grumbling under your breath, you smooth the front of your dress’ skirt down, ignoring the chill seeping into your skin. 

Just as you were about to count your losses and spend the next hour futilely waiting for an open taxi, you hear soft, measured steps coming from behind you. 

“Are you waiting for someone, Miss L/N?” 

Dr. Zayne. You immediately recognize him – how could you not? He’s one of the hospital’s most accomplished, not to mention most attractive, doctors. You’ve had a handful of professional conversations with him, though they seldom lasted more than three turns of pleasant respects. You usually sought to avoid the doctor, despite his calm and, albeit standoffish, demeanor. You told yourself it was simply because you had no desire to exchange faux pleasantries, but a small truth lay in the fact you were bashful around him, embarrassingly so. 

The independent, educated, prodigal daughter of the Asko chairman, reduced to a blushing mess because of the mere presence of a handsome doctor? The thought had you chewing on the inside of your cheek as you quietly mutter, “Good evening, Dr. Zayne.” You want to cringe with how nervous your voice sounds, you hope he blames it on the chilling rain. “And no, I’m afraid my driver is busy attending to another assignment.” 

You finally risk a gauging glance at him under his own black umbrella, noting the hint of dark circles under his lashes. Something small pangs in your chest. Pushing it aside, you give him a small bow, a polite smile on your face. “I should go to the main entrance, please excuse me.”

His smooth voice stops you from bolting to the door. “Are you planning to take a cab home, then?”

You blink up at him, head tilting ever so slightly, brows gently pinched together, “Well, yes, that appears to be my only option..” And you swear you see the corners of his mouth twitch, just the ghost of a shift. 

“I’ll give you a ride, don’t worry.”

You hate it, the way heat immediately creeps to your face. You shouldn’t be blushing like some high school girl in front of her crush, you’re an adult, dammit. And besides, it’s just a friendly offer, right? Just a colleague helping out a coworker. Right? So why was your face so red?

“Hm?” you try to catch your faltering expression, mustering an air of professional courtesy. “Oh, that’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“It’d be rude to leave a young woman by herself in a time of need.” You swear you feel every ounce of feminism leaving your body as he steps off the curb of the sidewalk, offering you his hand. “Besides, you’ll catch a cold if you stay out in this weather for much longer.”

With that, you wordlessly accept his hand, carefully stepping down to make sure your heels don’t trip you. He releases your hand once you’re on steady feet, and you follow behind him as he leads you to the hospital’s underground garage. The rain that was drizzling atop your umbrellas quiets as you stare at his back. Broad shoulders are visible even under his suit jacket, and it has you wondering what other secrets are hiding under the surface of the private doctor. 

Your wandering thoughts are cut off when you make it to his car. You offer a quiet murmur of thanks as he holds the passenger door open for you. You take the five seconds it takes for him to round the car to quell your rapid heartbeat, praying he doesn’t notice the tension in your hands. 

“You live near the park in District 19, right?” 

You nod, marginally surprised he remembers that small detail. “Yes, on the eastern side of the city.”

Zayne lets out a small hum of acknowledgment before adjusting the dials on the console, a soft waft of heat alleviating the cold from your skin. 

The drive is mostly silent aside from the subdued sounds of the radio. Luckily, your apartment isn’t too far of a drive, but being confined to a shared space with Zayne for 20 minutes made your nerves alight with restlessness. 

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, the fluorescents of passing buildings reflected off the wet streets, casting an incandescent smear of color on the windshield. Your hands absentmindedly fidget in your lap, your teeth gently chewing on your lower lip.

“Thank you again, Dr. Zayne,” you finally manage to speak. “I truly appreciate your kindness.”

The surgeon gives a small dip of his chin, his hands skimming over the steering wheel as he pulls into a parking spot in front of your building. “It was no trouble at all, I’m happy to have been of help.”

And that was that. Just a cordial, professional favor between two associates. You just couldn’t figure out why, as you stood in the vacant elevator to your apartment, your heart felt like it was going to ricochet off your ribs and out of your chest.

[plebplush]

I recently rewatched gravity falls like im sure everyone else has these past couple months. apparently my partner had never seen it despite us both being the prime demographic at time of airing. they enjoyed it so much we were both hurt there was no more.

we both understand why there can never be a season 3 but the bittersweet "summer is over and we can never come back here" hit more like 500 freight trucks straight to the heart than I remembered...

something about a place you can only remember :/

[artdcnaldson]

in the sex lessons au, reader was definitely introduced to porn by patrick. i bet he also gave her massages that “required” her to take off her shirt and bra and always ended up with his hands on her nipple….

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (mutual masturbation, exhibitionism kinda, more manipulative perverts but that’s par for the course)

A/N: how did you know I eat this up. I wrote a 3 part Steve Harrington fic with this exact plot like…. This is my bread and butter simply. Unedited sozz

It was easy to succumb to temptation when it was just the three of you— holed up in Art’s dorm, hidden away from the rest of the world.

A few cans of beer, cold from his mini fridge, the warm press of your legs on top of Patrick’s, of Art’s chest against your back. There’s a movie playing on Art’s laptop— some shitty action movie he’d rented for the three of you.

“Have you ever watched porn?” Patrick asks you bluntly.

Your eyes widen in surprise. “What? No— websites like that give you computer viruses, and stuff.” Art laughs, his body shaking with it. You suppose it is a little childish, but you’re being completely earnest. “What? Doesn’t it?”

Patrick laughs, shakes his head. “If that were true I would’ve gone through a thousand computers by now.”

You grimace, toss an empty beer can at him. “You’re so fucking gross.”

But Patrick just laughs, takes another swig of his beer, leans forward curiously. “So… I mean, do you just use your imagination when you’re touching yourself?”

Heat burns in your cheeks, and you roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

“Well, how do you know what you need to imagine if you’ve never seen anyone fucking? Is it just sweet kisses and hand holding?”

You kick him and Art comes to your defense like the sweetest knight in shining armor. “C’mon, Patrick, leave her alone.” Art’s hand is splayed across your tummy— firm, warm, protective. Patrick pretends like he doesn’t hear him, leans closer.

“I wanna know what innocent little fantasies you get off to. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” It’s hard to resist Patrick when he’s so close, when Art’s so close, when you feel warm and dizzy all over.

You sigh softly, relishing as he presses his warm body against your side, so it’s Patrick and Art and you sandwiched hot between them. “You realize you’re being a major fucking perv, right?” You ask in a low tone, meeting his gaze through your lashes. He nods, and you’re so conscious of his hand between your knees as his eyes bear into yours. But he wants you to continue, so you swallow and go on. “I dunno, sometimes it’s not about a fantasy. It’s just about me wanting some stress relief, or, like, my body needing it and it’s too hard to ignore.”

Art’s fingers flex against your stomach and you take a slow breath. “But, I mean, I guess I fantasize about being desired, like, taken care of I guess,” you mumble, mortified that you’re admitting it.

Patrick grins, runs his thumb along the inside of your knee. “That’s so sweet.” You roll your eyes, take a long drink, and try to ignore the heat in your stomach. “Do you want to see what Art likes to watch?”

Art’s eyes go wide, and he shakes his head. “No, no, we’re not doing that,” he says firmly. Patrick brushes him off, ignoring his pleas as he grabs the laptop and pulls up his trusty porn site. You peer over Patrick’s shoulder, eyes going wide as he opens to the home page, to all the recommended videos.

Your jaw drops, just a bit, and you let your eyes rake over the screen. It’s all right there— flagrant. Pretty girls with dicks in their mouths, pussies, hands. Lewd titles, the preview videos playing brief glimpses of obscenity.

“Aww, Art, this is so adorable,” Patrick teases as he scrolls. “Girl best friend deepthroats like a champ. Morning lovemaking ends in creampie.” Art mumbles something against your shoulder, blushing so hard you can feel the heat emanating from his skin.

Patrick clicks the latter and it opens to slow, deep kissing. A mess of tongues, rife with need. You know it’s normal to watch, to an extent— a right of passage, or whatever. But watching it feels so voyeuristic, so invasive. Especially when you’re practically in Art’s lap, when Patrick’s hands are hot against your skin.

Patrick gets bored of soft kissing and wandering hands and skips five minutes ahead in the video. By the time the buffering catches up, they’re fucking onscreen, all slow and sweet. Still kissing, still holding hands. But you also see the way the man’s cock sinks into her, can hear the moaning, the wet sounds of her body taking him in.

Art exhales a shaky breath against your skin, makes you shiver. He’s hard, you can feel that clearly against you, and you know he’s provably fucking mortified over it. But he doesn’t move to turn off the video, doesn’t do anything. His hand twitches against your stomach and you realize he’s still holding you.

The video is short— too short, you decide. The man finishes, you get a close up of the woman’s pussy, of cum dripping from her entrance. It makes your face burn, makes desire burn equally as hot as your embarrassment. The video ends, and Patrick stops auto play.

“Art, that shit is so fucking boring.” It snaps your attention from the paused screen over to him, who seems completely unaffected. You might actually believe he was unaffected if he wasn’t visibly hard.

You peer over at Patrick curiously. “What do you watch?”

He smiles, like he’d been waiting for you to ask, and grabs the laptop. Art makes a weak complaint that Patrick is going to fuck up his recommendations, but is ignored. Patrick logs in to an account and opens a tab for liked and saved videos.

Oh. You lean forward for a better look, expression twisting between shock and interest and confusion and disgust. Patrick’s tastes vary widely— venturing into areas you hadn’t even known were sexual. It’s like he had thrown everything at the wall to see what would stick, and everything just stuck.

“Oh my god, Patrick,” Art mutters, equally as intrigued as you are. “What the fuck, dude.” Art steals the laptop, scrolling through thumbnails of feet and anal and gangbangs and piss and bdsm dungeons and girls in stupid fucking schoolgirl costumes.

Patrick grabs the laptop back roughly, scrolls and clicks. “This one’s good, it’s perfect for when you just want to cum fast. Art, I know you don’t have that problem.”

Art flips him off and looks at the screen, reading the title aloud. “One hour squirting and cumshot compilation. Could you be any grosser?”

“Yes, actually. Sorry I don’t watch your sweet lovemaking bullshit.” Patrick shoves him, then Art shoves him back, and suddenly the laptop is on the floor in front of you and you’re just watching while they squabble on either side of you.

The video is exactly as described— it skips all of the pretense, all of the build up. It’s just people cumming, over and over and over. Your body feels like a live wire as you watch, lit up all over.

You squeeze your thighs together, conscious of the heat and wetness between them. Patrick clocks it— of course he does. A smirk plays at his lips.

“Maybe it’s not so disgusting, Art. She likes it.” Patrick relishes in the hazy, innocent look in your eyes as you meet his gaze. Relishes in the embarrassment and the need. “It’s good, huh? Getting to watch?”

You nod and Patrick takes your hand, slips it beneath the waistband of your shorts. “Go ahead. You want to.”

You shiver, temptation itching down to your fingertips. Sensing your hesitation, Patrick spits into his hand, slips it into his own shorts. You manage to hold out a few more seconds before you let your fingers brush over your clit.

“C’mon Art, don’t be a fucking creep,” Patrick says, moaning as he works his fist faster. Art swears under his breath and quickly shoves his own hand into his boxers.

You’re all so close, bodies pressed together hot and firm. You can feel the way their bodies move with each stroke, the way their thighs tense as they instinctually buck into their fists.

You moan, head falling against Art’s shoulder. His hand splays against you, inches up, brushing against the underside of your tit. It makes you whimper.

Patrick grabs your face, redirects your attention back to the screen. “Keep watching, it’s getting good.” His voice is strained, affected.

He usually lasts longer than this when he’s in your hand or your mouth, but maybe the video really was that good. Surely it didn’t have anything to do with you, panting and writhing as you rubbed at your clit beside him.

For once, Patrick cums first— doubling over, groaning muffled into your hair. Then it’s Art, whining so pretty, pulling you closer, mouthing at your shoulder as he comes down. And then you, overwhelmed by the two boys on either side of you, cumming with a rush of wetness that ruins your already soaked panties.

You sit there panting as the video continues playing— obscene wet, lewd sounds, wanton moans. Art hits stop, shuts the laptop and kicks it away.

You wonder why every time you hang out with them, it always seemed to end like this. And you wonder why you don’t mind, not even a little bit.

[seokgyuu]

After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.

Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader

Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!

Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!

tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)

Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!

His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.

Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.

Like with you.

When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.

See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.

The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.

He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.

It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.

A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.

Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.

But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.

The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.

One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.

“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.

Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.

All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.

A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.

Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.

Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.

“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”

You shook your head no.

“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”

Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”

Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.

“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.

“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”

You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.

“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”

Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-

“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”

Which is how we get to… now.

His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.

You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.

And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.

This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!

Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.

The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.

Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.

He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.

“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.

“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.

Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.

Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.

“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.

You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.

Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.

“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.

By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.

“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.

For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.

“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.

Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.

The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.

He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.

“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.

“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.

He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.

After that it spirals.

He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.

He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.

When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.

He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.

Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.

When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.

“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.

“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.

You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.

“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.

Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…

Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.

“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”

You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.

“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.

He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.

“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.

“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”

Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.

Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.

“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.

For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.

Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.

And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.

[visionsofmagic]

◜ mk1 men when they get hard in public because of you ◞

▸ characters: bi-han, liu kang, tomas, johnny cage, syzoth ◂

▸ tags: drabble, nsfw, possession, dominance, submission, invisibility, semi-public (kinda), pet names, & more! couldn’t help myself and wrote about mk1 men once again. enjoy! ◂ ▸ m.

BI HAN doesn’t like it even a bit. he’s not a weak man, and he shouldn’t be - has to stay still, calm, and steady in every situation, yes, he can let his anger go from time to time but except for it, he can’t let any feelings go away from his palms, to appear, to control him.

yet, here he is, leaning against the wall, watching you from behind as you train alone in the lin kuei’s training area - bending over, showing every curve of your body, with no shyness and no holding back even though you know he’s right there! he knows you tease him, that you don’t pay attention to him intentionally while doing every position you can as naughty as you can.

hands crossed across his chest, face is covered with his mask - doesn’t give away how he breaths deeply whenever he holds himself from going to your side and fucking you right there - in the middle of lin kuei, making everyone watching you.

the bulge is visible through his black and blue armored suit, but, he doesn’t give a damn fuck about it. contrary to that, he enjoys having it because after a moment, when he is done with your teasing, he picks you up, takes you into his room, and pushes you into the bed as he hovers upon you - lust and dominance rising within him as well as the coldness that he’s body creates on its own because of how you made him turn on in the public, breaking his norms, making him weak. he has to punish you for that.

putting your hand on his crotch, he makes you feel how turned on he is.

“do you feel it? it’s because of you. acting so bratty in front of me, making me watch you, giving me a fucking bulge. you made me have it in public. you have no idea how much it pissed me off - such a greedy brat. will teach you a lesson then, maybe you will learn how to only open your legs wide when you’re alone. if you don’t obey, I will fuck you in front of everyone. as your grandmaster, it’s my responsibility to make sure you act accordingly to the rules.”

LIU KANG has great stability, never showing his true feelings, keeping his face straight except for two things; one, rolling his eyes whenever johnny’s ego goes high, and two, you.

he can’t help it - he tries though, believe it, he tries his best yet you break every wall he has as staying calm and unreadable. to others, he is still unreadable but to you, he isn’t because you see him purely and entirely unlike others, and you know how to push his buttons - the god of fire himself by acting so innocent while showing him your dirty side.

it doesn’t matter what you do to become dirty; from holding your window wide open when he passes by and taking your clothes off, to simply putting dishes on the table in front of him while sitting with others as well, bending over to him so lower that he can see the sight of your breasts - wearing no bra, and even winking at him.

he talks little in those moments, watching you from the corner of his eyes, pushing the desire to fuck you on that table down, waiting until everyone leaves, holding you by the wrist, pulling you onto his lap, making you feel his hardened cock on your ass.

whispering into your ear, his hands travel your body.

“you know how to push even a god’s buttons, princess. but making it in public? oh, you need to learn not to do that, or, I will make sure that you won’t do it again by fucking you on this table where anyone can see. now, let me take you to a more special place. you should take care of my cock after all, with these pretty breasts you showed me.”

TOMAS will definitely try to hide it right away, a bit shy, yet dirty thoughts rushing into his mind when he sees you training - having a little cloth on your body; a bra, and a mini shorts, your body is entirely visible to his eyes.

he knows he shouldn’t take it as an attempt to make him turn on but he realizes your intentions turn from innocent ones to evil when you see him looking at you directly, gulping, a hand stays on his lap, hiding the bulge underneath his clothes, face full of heat because of not having his mask on.

he avoids your eyes immediately, looking at you from the corner of his eyes in a shy way, staying still on the chair he’s sitting on and trying to pay attention to other trainers when he sees you coming to his side, kneeling down - hands on your knees, you ask what’s wrong and from the way you speak, he understands that you’re being a brat.

however, even though he is shy, he doesn’t stop himself from being as needy as you.

“I know what you’re trying to do, yet, it will not create a difference. trying to break me in public is something and you achieved it, I am so turned on that I fantasize about you in ways I shouldn’t have in public. but who I am to blame when you’re being so greedy for me? don’t worry though my goddess, being a good lover for you, I will do my best to fuck you good enough after we get back to our room that you will see your effects on me.”

JOHNNY CAGE will not try to hide it, not even for a second. he doesn’t care about what other people would think when they see a bulge rising under his pants, or how he puts his hand on it, caressing it under the table when he’s sure no one is looking, a smirk on his face as he watches you dance on the floor, giving him a goddamn show - you move your body so beautifully, only for his eyes to see, it makes him turn on the moment you take glances to his direction.

he can see you try not to alert others while showing off your body to him while dancing.

he will say ‘damn’ and drink his favorite liquor, watching you with pleasure, saying ‘it’s nothing’ when others ask what he’s talking about.

when he has enough, he will join you on the dance floor. under the dark lights and in the corner he chooses - less crowded, he puts his hand on your abdomen, pulling your body to his.

back touching his chest, you let his other hand grips your inner thigh under your dress, lip touching your ear as he says with a playful and cheerful voice, pushing his lower part onto your ass so that you can feel how hard he is full.

“feel it, princess? see, this is you making me go so hard in a fucking place like this, in front of everyone, by just dancing. such a naughty little girl you are for me, showing off your skills. ohh, pretty lady, you have no idea how I want to fuck you in one of the guest rooms - oh, and you know what - for this ass, will sure do it. come here, gotta go, you should pay for what you have done to me.”

SYZOTH turns invisible right away when he has enough, getting up from where he sits, eyes not leaving yours as he finds a corner and becomes invisible.

no one can see him - only you who chuckles at his lack of self-control when it comes to you, especially when you make his mind go crazy in the middle of a meeting with others. having no actual job, you just mind your own business until you see how syzoth watches you from a distance, eyes never leaving you as you eat a very juicy fruit, licking your fingers to clean them, slowly, showing how skilled your tongue is which was on him and his entire body, including his cock, a night before as you look up to his heat rushed face, chuckling at him seductively, making him feel submissive yet dominant at the same time.

when the memories rush into his mind, he finds only escape in being invisible but he knows you shouldn’t get away with that so easily, so, when others pay attention to other things and you stay alone, he stays behind you as you sit. then, he slowly appears, dick that is hard enough to be felt through the fabric of his clothes touching your back. he holds your shoulders, kneeling down, he whispers to your ears.

“I see that you didn’t have enough of me last night or you just did all of that to make me go crazy, wanting to eat you alive in front of everyone and staying invisible while doing it. oh my pretty lover, if you keep doing this, it will be the only option for me to make you regret having me hard in here, where anyone can see it. maybe, I will not wait for you to act behaved and fuck you right here, now. hm? what you say, my goddess?”

💚

[mins-fins]

119

&&. unfortunately you aren't as slick as you thought you were.

pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader

genre: fluffity fluff fluff fluff

warnings: sexual jokes, thats it 😚

word count: 1.2k

notes: jj spread the jeno bias disease i literally cant believe this 😭😭 hes so……….im abt to draft another long jeno fic + an smau + another stupid drabble and all of that fun stuff!! dont get it twisted jisung is still my ult though 😒 no ones ever replacing him, anyway this came from a prompt someone sent me, smth about "kissing someone on a ferris wheel" which i just LOVEEEED hello??? okay ik none of you care abt my words, love jeno, love nct dream, pray i get park jisung pcs 😇 good night now <33

you are going to murder na jaemin.

the moment you get off this ferris wheel your throwing up your guts all over his shirt, or punching him in his face, or strangling him to death, whatever. the moment you step off this ride you're making sure he doesn't open his eyes to see the rest of his fellow human beings ever again.

maybe if you were less awkward you'd actually be thanking him, but you take one side glance at the boy beside you and want to smash your head against the glass.

jeno doesn't notice your side glance (and thank goodness he doesn't because you probably would've died if he took so much as a glance at you), he's much too busy glancing at the view from the height your at. you assume that jeno likes ferris wheels, he probably likes them more than you do.

"are you alright?"

you mentally prepare yourself for the voice crack you know might escape your lips. just talk to him like a normal human being, y/n, yeah you're into him and shit but that doesn't mean you can be a weirdo.

"yeah" you finally respond, thank goodness the voice cracks don't come out. "just feeling a little nauseous".

jeno raises an eyebrow. "scared of heights?"

you only manage a curt nod, a nod that makes jeno scoot closer to you, his lips stretching into a smile. "it's alright, i'll protect you".

fuck you lee jeno, fuck you, fuck you, fuck yo—

your somehow able to chuckle, amused by his words. "it's not like i'm dying or anything".

jeno frowns. "so you don't want my protection?"

you pretend to think about it, pressing your lips together as your eyebrows furrow, avoiding eye contact with jeno at all costs. if you look at him, your going to fall and never get up. "i wouldn't be entirely against it".

jeno's shoulder nudges yours, nothing but a small touch that drives you crazy. you wonder if the mini breakdown your having is noticeable, if maybe, he's doing it on purpose, making your heart race to get a kick out of it.

but when you think about it further, it makes you giggle, because this is lee jeno, you could get down on one knee and propose to him yet he'd still be confused by how you feel for him.

if lee jeno knew how you felt for him really, you probably wouldn't have resisted the urge to make out with him on this fucking ride or already.

that was a strange thought, a stupid one even, but it's one manifested from your deepest desires.

when you think about it, though, you wouldn't exactly mind it.

"that's good" jeno snickers at you, eyes examining your face as if it's an interesting exhibit at an art museum. "you need me".

you feign a sigh of irritation. "of course, what would i do without you?"

"you'd die, clearly" jeno replies, tilting his head and reaching over to lace your fingers with his. the cold rings on his fingers feel like glass shards against your fingers, but his soft hands contrast his stabbing rings. "isn't this sort of romantic?"

you choke on your spit.

"romantic? roma— hah! what are you talking about? what is romantic about this?"

soooo natural, y/n.

jeno simply shrugs, suddenly very interested in the view of the carnival from the ferris wheel. "were on a ferris wheel together, stars before us, just the two of us, this would be like.. the perfect date".

you blink, the words making you pause and your head spin. is he serious? is he really serious?

"is this your way of asking me out?"

you manage to ask that without sounding like a pathetic idiot who wanted to hear those exact words, and your response gets the same reaction out of jeno, flushed cheeks with an awkward chuckle accompanying the sight. you would've thought you were a genius if you weren't as flustered as he was.

jeno is speechless, and he fumbles through his speech like someone's holding him at gunpoint or something. "i— no! no! ..maybe? kinda?"

you pause, all your former confidence suddenly withering away, the blood rushing to your cheeks in full force. you laugh, taking his words as a joke, but jeno keeps silent, and so do you.

"are you serious?"

jeno can't speak, so he just nods wordlessly.

you blink, glancing from side to side, this ferris wheel won't be on the ground soon, but at least this makes it a little more bearable. "did you just confess your feelings for me like that?"

"well to be fair—"

"i was supposed to do it first!" you yell in another fit of feigned irritation, your cheeks a color reminiscent of jeno's cherry red shirt. "that's not fair! you beat me to it!"

"well how was i supposed to know you liked me back?"

you scoff, and jeno goes silent again, embarrassed by the question he just asked.

"you're such an idiot lee jeno.."

"can i kiss you?"

the question is a blurt of pure desperation, pure honesty from the deepest corners of jeno's mind, an inquiry he's been dying to ask you ever since he found himself interested in staring at your lips.

you hope you don't faint from the scorching heat radiating off your face.

"it's romantic" he laughs, his best excuse for that random inquiry. "i've always wanted to kiss someone in a ferris wheel, unless you don't want to then—"

you (in the most cliche turn of events) cut jeno off with a kiss. though you'd love to keep your fingers intertwined, you let go of his hand to find purchase on his shoulder, then tug him closer to you with a light jerk. a small squeak emits from him, but he quickly relaxes into the kiss, giggling at your enthusiasm.

though he giggles, he isn't much better off. it's nothing but a small press of the lips, it's not intense or anything, but jeno feels his heart soar. hie face heats to overwhelming heights, and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing you against him, as if the idea of not feeling every part of you would be maddening.

you both are just as desperate as each other, there's no push, just pull. it's a playful competition, your waiting for the other to pull away, stop the kiss because they need breath, it's stubborn in an idiotic way.

but jeno loses your little battle, because he pulls away for air, as red as the sunset in the early morning.

and though you laugh at the sight, you aren't much better off yourself (if the heat continuing to permeate from your face is enough).

"was that romantic enough for you?"

even with how breathless he is, jeno still manages a stupid question.

he squeals when you land a slap on his shoulder.

and while you thought you two were slick about it, considering you were like five feet in the air with nobody to see you, your equally red faces and intertwined hands were enough to get feigned vomits from your friends.

jaemin snickers as he looks between you two, and you glare as you see him open his mouth.

"so what happened up there?"

"clearly they got it on".

upon hearing the words, you let go of jeno's hand to yell and chase after lee donghyuck, who squeals and sprints away, shouting for renjun to help him.

jaemin just sends jeno a knowing look, a look that the older pretends he isn't bothered by.

for once, one of his ploys finally worked.

[feitanii-ll]

∘ ˚𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝟰 𝗬𝗢𝗨!!

(nanami, kento x fem!reader)

(fluff)

nothing will alter the suffocating love and passion that nanami kento feels for his wife. practically joined to the hip, kento is to his wife like a moth to a flame— pushing and pursuing this shining star (being you), blindly and aimlessly, simply because he loves you, and wants to give you his all. show you that, God, you're all his. whether it's rubbing your feet after a long day of work (even after trying to convince you that you can stay home because he can do enough for the both of you to provide), or mumbling soft words into your shoulder as you hover over the stove to cook your shared dinner, sending your order of a chicken sandwich and avocado salad to your work for lunch— kento will do anything for his wife. his soul. his other half.

and he stands on that. very rarely does kento ever say no to you. how could he ever? you wanna eat there? it's always yes, baby. you're thinking about getting that shirt? yeah, baby, here's the card. take it to the register. can you call out of work? yes, honey. do you even have to ask? you're so sweet to him. so polite and loving, he wants to give you the world. he can't find himself in any situation in which he would say no.

except now...

"oh, would you just look at them," kento hears your praise for the umpteenth time in the 30 minutes you've been staring into the orangized array of fishtanks, the neon lights of the decorated aquatic home displaying on your skin as you get face to face with a multitude of dead-eyes gold fish. a petshop. a petshop of all places, he had to take you. in the background, there's the chittering of birds, bubbling of aquatic tanks and the occasional bark! from the vet center that's connected to the place.

"they're just so cute..." he hears you mutter. he knows you're playing it off as mumbling to yourself, when in reality, you want him to feel bad that he's yet to having said yes to buying the entire tank. or the other animals that were scattered amongst the store. "I wish we could have a tank..." you sigh dramatically, to which your husband groans in exasperation.

"sweetheart, please. you're making this very difficult for me." he sighs, running a rough hand over his face, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes with the pads of his thumb and index. "you don't know how to take care of them." he tells you in the most respectful way he can to his wife.

"I could learn, kenny," you whip around to face him "look at them!"

he looks tired and unimpressed. distressed, even, as he's fighting the desire to say yes and just buy the damn fish. and he could almost cry at how you stamp your foot lightly on the tiled floor in desperation to get him to understand, "they're so cute! look at them, kento. they're all squished in the tank and stuff." God, you're cute.

"they're fine, honey," he watches as you turn back to the tank and observe the small fish again, resting a hand on your shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. "they get taken care of. see?" he nod his head over to an unsuspecting worker nearby who was restocking the mini-fride of fish food. "safe and sound, dear. I'm sure they like it here." he doesn't know that.

"but they need a home.."

"you said that about the birds, my love." he smiles a little, lifting a brow in confusion.

"that still stands!" he watches you nod firmly, and for once, his princess was making it hard to not be that unrelenting-in-giving husband he strives to be.

"honey, I know you want them, but.. I'm certain you don't know a thing about taking care of fish," you go to cut him off, ready to protest, but he makes an 'aht aht ' sound, lifting a finger to stop you, to which you deflate.

"or birds. or hamsters, or rats, or, goddamn, my love, definitely not a tarantula." he reminds, referring to how just a few minutes ago, you were gushing over the fuzzy creature in its tank. "you just asked me to kill a spider for you last week. you'd hurt the poor thing." he explains, never getting angry or annoyed with you. his tone is that ever so gentle wave of sounds that you adore.

"—and I'd settle on getting you a bird, but they need lots of care, as do all pets. we're both too busy for that, now, aren't we?" kento hums, cupping your cheek and caressing with the pads of his thumb as he sees the look of disappointment on your pretty features.

"when we're truly, truly ready, dear— we can think about it more in depth. but don't get the animal simply because that big heart of yours is wanting to give them a home. it'll be alllright." he hums again, and you pout, knowing that there's a mountain of truth in his words.

you sigh, glancing away from the fishtank and leaning into his chest. he doesn't hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulder, allowing you your right as his wife to smell that thick cologne that makes your head go all fuzzy and warm.

"there we are.." his voice drops an octive when you relent, silently agreeing to his point. "you're alright, mama. I know you've got a big heart. one day, baby, okay? just not today."

kento feels a sense of emptiness in telling you no, and he knows it's because the concept is so foreign to him. you're his princess. and, if he was irresponsible with his love for you (which, he is) he'd give you every animal in the shop your little heart desires.

"a rabbit..?" your voice snaps him out of his through as he begins to lead you out of the shop.

"hm?" the glances down at you, pushing the double doors open, waving briefly to to cashier who greets the two of you goodbye before his attention is on you again.

"a rabbit, kento? if we ever get the chance?" you ask, so so sweetly. he's a weak man for his wife.

"yes, sweetheart." he sigh with a knowing smile on his face. "yes. we'll look into it."

your smile is wide when you feel his soft lips against your cheek. you slip your hands out of the pockets of your hoodie, wrapping your arms around his middle as you both walk away towards the car.

"'kay.. love you, kento." you remind him. he chuckles, and the sound goes straight to your tummy, dropping and erupting in a cloud of butterflies.

"thank you, baby," he leans over your back, opening the car door for you, dipping his head down to kiss between your neck and shoulder as he does. "I love you more. you know that, yes?"

"yes, kento." you respond, tone wavering. he preens at your shy smile, and you have to make your way into the car, feeling that the pet mart parking lot was much too public for the display of affection.

"good. let's go home, baby." he shuts the car door.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

might be late to the nanami party, but hi.

[roomsofangel]

pairing god of death!seonghwa x fem!reader | established relationship

genre honestly just crack.. nothing serious, just some good fun and giggles :p

word count 2.3k

synopsis since dating the god of death, you never had a dull moment when he decided to stay back and live his life as a mortal (with the exceptions here and there, he cannot help it after all. he is who he is) — whether it be helping him work the washing machine, explaining that ‘lit’ doesn’t actually mean anything caught on fire, or simply also trying to help seven other deities work their way into blending in. today’s quest? the air fryer.

mini wooyoung + san cameo :p !

a/n hi my loves! long time no see </3 i do genuinely apologize for my lack of updates, i have been overwhelmed with a lot since my last post! with ateez concert prep, moving, and my grandmothers eye surgery so things have been quite hectic! i’ve had some work be deleted by mistake so i have been rewriting a lot :( however!! i had some time and an idea.. so i decided to whip up this short work for you all as an apology! (and reminder that i’m still here:p)

decided to try out something new (or at least new to my blog) third person pov is my more stronger point than second person and it felt fitting for this in particular, so i decided to try it out here! so let me know what you think! (and who knows i might end up turning this into a mini series of things like this.. perhaps also with the other boys??)

seonghwa stood in front of the air fryer, eyeing the device with a mixture of confusion and frustration. with a sigh, he approached y/n, who was diligently working on her laptop. “yn, darling," seonghwa called out, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "how do you operate this confounded thing?"

y/n glanced up at seonghwa and couldn’t help but smile at his perplexed expression. she set aside her laptop and made her way over to him. “my love,” she began with a soft laugh, studying the air fryer before them. “what is giving you trouble this time?”

seonghwa gestured towards the air fryer, a hint of irritation and embarrassment on his face. "this contraption," he said, a slight pout in his voice. "i’ve been trying to figure out how to use it, but it's more bewildering than a newborn god's first thunderstorm."

y/n chuckled, her eyes darting between seonghwa and the air fryer. she couldn't help but find his struggle with modern appliances endearing. “let me guess," she teased, a twinkle in her eyes, "you’ve decided to take up cooking, and this little demon is giving you grief?"

seonghwa grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. "i merely wanted to cook a simple meal for us, my sweet," he said, his irritation giving way to a hint of embarrassment. "but this device is more stubborn than a mortal refusing their fate." he tapped the side of the air fryer with a touch of disdain, as if it were more than just an appliance. "it has no respect for a god, i tell you."

y/n couldn’t help but chuckle again, a mixture of amusement and affection in her tone. "well, my dear lord of death, i think it's safe to say appliances don't care about your godly status." she sidled closer to him, looking at the air fryer with a smirk. "but don't worry, i shall attempt to guide you through this fearsome battle."

seonghwa let out a huff, but his expression softened as y/n approached further. he secretly relished her banter, even if it did jab at his ego. “your guidance would be greatly appreciated, my darling,” he said, a hint of mock formality in his voice. “please help me tame this infernal contraption before it becomes the cause of my first minor divine tantrum.”

y/n couldn't help but giggle at seonghwa’s formal tone. she loved it when he tried to maintain his air of divinity, even in mundane situations. "of course, my fearless deity," she replied, playing along. "let’s begin by turning the dial to the temperature you desire."

she pointed to the temperature control knob on the air fryer. "this little knob here is your first step to claiming victory over this beastly appliance."

seonghwa watched intently, his irritation melting away as he listened to her instructions. he took the knob and twirled it cautiously, setting the temperature to the desired level. "and now?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of child-like excitement.

"okay, great!," y/n chimed in, clearly enjoying the moment. "now, we select the cooking function. It should be labeled as 'air fry,' 'bake,' or 'roast.' since you want to cook us a meal, 'air fry' is the one you're looking for." she pointed to the selection dial next to the temperature knob. "this knob here will help you choose the cooking function. go ahead and give it a little turn."

seonghwa's eyes followed her finger as it indicated the selection dial. he gave it a careful twist, a sense of accomplishment slowly building in his chest. "ah, i see," he murmured, his voice laced with determination. "so far, so good. what’s the next step, my beautiful guide?"

y/n smiled, noticing the hint of pride in seonghwa's eyes. "you’re doing great, hwa," she reassured him. "now that we have the temperature set and the function selected, we need to place the food inside."

she gestured towards the basket inside the air fryer. "this part," she explained, "is where you put whatever it is you want to cook. it could be chicken, fish, fries, anything really. you just need to arrange it in a single layer here, not too crowded."

seonghwa examined the air fryer's basket with a mix of contemplation and concentration. "ah, so it's like a cooking chariot," he said, "i must arrange my offering within its depths, like placing souls in my domain."

y/n chuckled at the analogy, "exactly," she affirmed

with a nod, seonghwa began to place a few frozen french fries into the basket, his movements surprisingly methodical. "like this?" he asked, glancing at y/n for reassurance, and perhaps a bit of praise.

"you’re doing great. just make sure they're not too close to each other. they need some space to cook nice and crispy." she smiled, secretly enjoying the sight of the god of death arranging frozen french fries with careful precision. "once you've got all your food in there, we can move on to the final step."

seonghwa nodded, placing down the last few french fries, ensuring they weren't too close to one another. a sense of accomplishment washed over him as he completed the task. "very well," he said, his voice tinged with triumph. "i’ve arranged the offering within the cooking chariot. what’s the final step in this culinary quest?"

y/n couldn't help but grin, "the final step," she began, trying not to laugh, "involves closing the lid and setting the timer for the desired cooking time." she pointed to the lid of the air fryer, gesturing for him to lower it. "just gently place the lid back on top of the air fryer, and we're almost there."

seonghwa carefully placed the lid on the air fryer, his hands treating it with a respectful touch. "like this?" he asked, double-checking that he had completed the task to her satisfaction.

“yes, just like that," she confirmed, nodding in approval. "you’re catching on faster than i expected, my love."

he then turned his attention to the timer dial, a sense of accomplishment swelling within him. "and what about the timing? how long must i wait before these french fries offer themselves to me as a delicious sacrifice?"

she glanced at the timer dial and then back at him, chuckling quietly. "for these french fries, a few minutes should suffice," she replied. "let’s start with... eight minutes and adjust from there if needed. just give that timer dial a gentle turn to set the desired time."

seonghwa obediently gave the timer dial a few rotations, setting it to eight minutes. he stood back, admiring his handiwork with a mix of pride and curiosity. "there, i’ve set the timer for our sacrificial fries," he declared, his voice filled with authority. "what now, my wise advisor? do we sit and wait for the air fryer to perform its magic?"

y/n laughed at seoonghwa's use of the term ‘sacrificial fries.’ "that’s right, my love," she replied. "now, we wait for the air fryer to work its magic and transform those ordinary frozen fries into a crispy, scrumptious snack." she leaned against the counter, watching him with a fond smile.

seonghwa nodded, his eyes transfixed on the air fryer. "i see," he said, his voice filled with anticipation. "so, we simply wait and allow the air friar to carry out its process of transformation. it’s fascinating how mortals rely on these contraptions for their meals."

he moved closer to y/n, wrapping an arm around her waist. "and what shall we do while we wait, my sweet guide?"

y/n relaxed into seonghwa’s embrace, enjoying the feeling of his arm around her. however, before she could respond to his question, they were interrupted by the unexpected knock on the window. they both swung their gazes towards the source of the disturbance.

y/n chuckled, recognizing who it was, and excused herself from seonghwa's embrace to head towards the window. "sounds like wooyoung," she muttered with a knowing smile.

as y/n approached the window, she found wooyoung standing outside, a perplexed expression on his face. "you locked the window, you dolt," wooyoung called out, an amused grin playing on his lips. "now let me in."

y/n laughed softly, shaking her head at wooyoung's impatient tone. "hold on, you impatient fool," she called back, her tone light and teasing. "i’m opening the window." she undid the latch and pulled the window open, allowing wooyoung to enter.

wooyoung casually stepped inside, his eyes flickering from y/n to seonghwa and back. he quickly assessed the situation and smirked. "ah, i see our dark and broody friend is struggling with modern appliances again," he said, his tone laced with playful mockery.

seonghwa frowned, his irritation flaring at wooyoung's teasing remark. "watch your tongue, lover boy," he warned, his eyes narrowing. "i’ll have you know i’m simply learning the ways of modern cooking."

wooyoung chuckled, his smirk widening. "ah, yes, the mighty god of death struggling with an air fryer," he teased, thoroughly amused by the situation. "must be quite a humbling experience for you."

seonghwa's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. "humbling indeed," he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. "but i assure you, i will master this contraption in no time."

y/n interjected, trying to diffuse the situation between the two gods. "alright, enough you two," she said, her tone light but firm. "wooyoung, stop teasing dear seonghwa, and hwa, stop taking everything he says so seriously."

seonghwa grumbled, still clearly annoyed, but he settled down, his irritation slightly eased by y/n’s intervention. wooyoung, on the other hand, chuckled, apparently enjoying the banter. "oh come on, yn," he protested, a mischievous grin on his face. "i’m just having a bit of fun. it’s rare to see the broody one so frazzled."

y/n rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile played on her lips. "yes, yes, we're all amused by seonghwa's culinary struggles," she agreed, glancing at seonghwa lovingly.

seonghwa, still disgruntled but slightly calmer, shot wooyoung a glare, silently warning him not to push his buttons further.

wooyoung chuckled again, his eyes darting between y/n and seoonghwa, clearly enjoying the tension. "oh, come on, hwa," he said, using seonghwa's nickname casually. "lighten up a little. it’s not like i’m challenging your divine status on the battlefield."

seonghwa’s eyes narrowed, a hint of irritation in his gaze. "no you're just mocking my struggle to understand a simple mortal contraption," he retorted, his voice still gruff. "and stop calling me hwa. only yn gets to call me that."

wooyoung feigned innocence, raising his hands in mock surrender. "ah, my apologies, oh great lord of death," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "but you have to admit, it's quite entertaining to see you in this domestic setting, trying to figure out how an air fryer works."

seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin under wooyoung's relentless teasing. "i fail to see the humor in this," he said curtly. "and for your information, i’m only familiar with weapons and tactics, not kitchen gadgets. but i assure you, i will master this air fryer before you can say 'i love you' in greek."

wooyoung burst into laughter, thoroughly enjoying seeonghwa's response. "oh, you're a riot, hwa," he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "and good luck with that. i can say 'i love you' in greek quicker than you can figure out how to change the temperature on that air fryer."

y/n tried to maintain her composure, but a laugh escaped her lips at wooyoung’s retort. "oh, honestly, you two," she said, shaking her head amusedly. "i swear sometimes you're like children."

she stepped closer to seonghwa, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "darling, don't let him get to you. you’re doing fine."

seonghwa huffed, his irritation slowly subsiding in her presence. "i know," he mumbled, his voice softer now. "it’s just... he knows how to push my buttons." he glanced at wooyoung, who was still smirking, seemingly enjoying their banter. seonghwa rolled his eyes but a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

wooyoung, seeing seonghwa's slight smile, chuckled. "oh come on, hwa, you know you love our banter," he teased, leaning against the wall. "admit it, it adds some variety to your brooding existence."

seonghwa's smile widened slightly, but he feigned indifference. "i assure you, i do not enjoy your childish antics," he replied, his tone lacking its usual grouchy tone. "but i suppose you have a point. it’s always amusing to see how far you're willing to push my patience."

wooyoung grinned, pleased that he was slowly breaking through seonghwa's tough exterior. "ah, you see, hwa," he said, a smug expression on his face. "you’re actually starting to enjoy our little banter. soon enough, you'll be begging me to stay and keep you company."

as wooyoung finished speaking, they all heard a sound from the kitchen, as if something had been knocked over. y/n turned her attention to the kitchen, a frown on her face. "what on earth was that?" she said, already on her way to investigate the source of the sound.

when they entered the kitchen, they found san sitting on the counter, with a mouthful of fries. surprisingly, he looked guilty, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. but the source of the sound was obvious: a bottle of ketchup that had been knocked over, leaving a growing red pool on the floor.

san’s eyes widened as he noticed them, his cheeks still puffed with fries. he quickly swallowed the food before speaking, his voice laced with guilt. "uh, hey," he said, offering a sheepish smile.

y/n crossed her arms, a mix of surprise and irritation in her gaze. "you left the back door unlocked again?" she asked, mainly towards seonghwa, shaking her head. "san, how many times do i have to tell you?"

san shrugged, unabashedly continuing to munch on his fries. "i was hungry," he said simply. "and the door looked inviting."

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Three's A Crowd (a.k.a: when deuce is jealous of his tsum)

Deuce Spade x Reader

I write reader as female

Masterlist

“Who’s my adorable little Deucey? Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Aren’t you a good little boy,” you cooed, nuzzling your face closer to the little tsum tsum in your hands. Ever since the small plush version of your boyfriend descended from the sky and bounded into you, the two of you have been inseparable.

For the past hour, you’ve been cuddling and kissing the little critter like there was no tomorrow and the tsum was soaking up your unrelenting attention like a cheeky little sponge. The little rascal didn’t even want to stop at just receiving your love. Oh no, it seemed perfectly happy leaping up and planting its face on your cheeks, jumping for joy when you’d smile at it and say your thanks

Meanwhile Deuce was sulking beside you, his thoughts were at odds with each other. On the one hand, he gets to see your smile and hear your angelic laughter - a sight and sound that never makes his heart swell with devotion - but on the other, he has to witness you doling out your coveted affection to someone else. He was being third-wheeled on his own date - and by himself no less!

He knows he’s being silly - pouting like a child because you’re doting over a creature less than ten centimetres large. He already had to endure Ace’s smug grin and teasing laughter at his ‘whipped behaviour’ but he can’t help it. He’s been wrapped around your finger for so long that he’s already made a home there.

He knew that if his plush counterpart was anything like him, then there was never enough of you. That you were just so beautiful and loving and breathtaking, that forever with you just felt too short. Your gentle words and soft caresses, your warm kisses and loving embrace, the sweetness that just pours out of everything you do was so enchanting that he was helpless against the force of it all. The love he had back then was so consuming that he thought it couldn’t possibly grow, that it’s mass was simply insurmountable but he was so unbelievably wrong - that was a mere drop compared to the ocean of desire he’s perpetually drowning in, and every day he sinks deeper and deeper. He was a fool to think that once he was yours, that he could be at ease. He should’ve known that every kiss, every touch he shares with you makes him more and more addicted to them, catching him in this vicious cycle that neither of you are planning to stop. So he knows perfectly well firsthand that a few hours with you would not satisfy the navy haired tsum in your grasp.

After all, he knew what he was like back then, when his rightfully atrocious reputation and frightening expression drove people away, when the concept of having someone close like this was a concept as fanciful as his book of fairytales. And now that he had someone to love and cherish, to worship and protect, he swore that he would never be the reason you felt scared or upset or angry. So if he had to deal with his irrational jealousy, he would.

But it was just so hard. For some reason his already aggressive and quick-to-anger tsum was exceptionally rowdy if it was over a centimetre away from your person (and no, he was not going to unpack that and yes, he was ignoring all of the looks his fellow Heartslabyul students and first years were giving him whenever his smaller counterpart would throw a tantrum or be so openly affectionate) so the only way it would behave was if it sat on your shoulder. This meant that he had to deal with an entire academic day of his mini me being nearer to you than him - of it rubbing against your cheek or being carried in your hands or snuggling up against you, you even hand fed it during lunch (you’ve never done that with him and no he most certainly did not splinter the table from how hard he was gripping it) - and he’s pretty sure he’s at his limit.

“Who’s my darling sweetheart?” you continued to coo, petting the tsum on its plush head, “who’s my handsome boy?”

“I am,” Deuce whined, dropping his head onto your shoulder. 

You immediately stopped and turned to face him. He could feel his face burning from something other than the heated glare of the tiny thing in your hands but at this point, he was desperate.

“I am,” he repeated, lifting his face and looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes, “so, please. Can you pay attention to me?”

You smiled at him, so lovely and warm, and was about to open your mouth before, to both of your shock, the tsum tsum leaped up and planted a kiss right on your lips before landing back down looking immensely pleased with itself.

You blinked in surprise as Deuce looked ticked, glowering at his tiny counterpart, who just looked smugly back at him.

“You little,” was all you could hear before you felt a gloved hand grip your forearm and draw you forwards and another pushing against the back of your head, and his lips were on you, pressing hard against yours. It took a split second for you to get over your stupefaction and you kissed him back, just as hard, moving your mouth to the rhythm the both of you set. You felt the familiar haze of ecstasy clouding your senses before it was over, much too quick for the both of you. 

He smiled at you, and you gave him a red-faced smile back, letting the oxygen once again fill your lungs and your rapid heart rate peter down to normal. 

“I’m your boyfriend,” he pouted, “I know this is really silly of me but, but please look at me as well.”

“Oh Deuce,” you sighed affectionately, taking one of his hands and rubbing circles with your thumb on the back of it, “I’m always looking at you. I’m sorry, handsome, I guess I got a bit too caught up looking after the tsum tsum.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said hurriedly, “you were just helping us out. I should’ve said something sooner.”

“But still,” you cut yourself off at his look, “alright. But you have to understand. He’s a little version of my boyfriend - how could I not love him?”

“Yeah, I guess-”

“Almost as much as I love you.”

You - wha - why do you have to be so dangerous to his heart?

And he kisses you again. When the little guy launches itself up to headbut him in the cheek, he expertly catches it in his fist, opening an eye to look at its squirming body and smiles.

I win

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

Angel sex would hit so hard.

Not in the “Oh! You TAINT them with your SINFUL SEXUAL DESIRES like the filthy PERVERT you are!” But rather. Actually let me just make a mini story

Imagine it’s a cool night and the moon is full, shining through your window like a beacon of pure light. But instead of enjoying your restful slumber or staring up at the beautiful sky outside your home, you lay in bed looking at the ceiling hopelessly. To you, it’s just another lonely night with no one by your side.

You feel so pent up with emotions, all of which stem back to the need for a lover by your side. As you stew in your emotions, your mind drifts off to solutions for your crippling loneliness. You could always get on a dating app for a hookup… Or look at content to pleasure yourself to… Or just-

“My dearest child, let us put such thoughts off to the side where they belong.”

This immediately snaps you out of it and you look around the room to see where the voice came from only for a cool breeze to enter your room. You immediately turned to look at the window and there you see, illuminated by the beautiful light of the moon, is what appears to be an angel with a robe of white and gold. The angel wanders into your humble abode with a soft smile and turns to you.

“Your shepard has arrived, my little lamb.”

He made his way over to the bed and took a seat on the edge with an elegant grace, placing a hand on your thigh as his wings spread open.

“My my, I came just in time too. I can sense the desire you have flowing through your body. You planned to go out and indulge in sin, weren’t you my child?”

You unwillingly nod, which he chuckles at as he crawls up onto the bed further.

“That won’t do, we can’t have any of our flock wandering off to the wolves now can we?”

Another forced nod.

“And a shepherd must attend to the needs of his flock, right? What kind of guardian would I be if I didn’t rid you of these overwhelmingly powerful desires?”

You expect him to bless you or simply make your thoughts of sex disappear, but instead he pulled up his robes to reveal himself to you with the softest look he had as he gently rubbed your thigh lovingly. There was no blind lust or ill intent in his gaze, just pure love.

“Worry not love, for I will be your outlet. From now on, until you follow me to the golden gates, you’ll never have to suffer through these feelings ever again. Not alone at least.”

TLDR; Guardian Angel fucks you so you don’t risk fucking strangers who might treat you like garbage, give you some type of disease, or hurt you.

.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I love your writing!! Could you do a short 1 or 2 part fiction based on this prompt: a highborn girl is to become Aemond's wife but she is a mute. Her other senses are well even though she isn't able to speak. She is youngest in her family and is extremely shy. No fiery bone in her body. Alicent coaxes her son into being betrothed to her due to Alicent having issues with high-born ladies not wanting to marry the prince due to his eye missing and his tendency to have a temper. They bond over reading and Aemond is enthralled with her beauty. Also Aemond never is a kinslayer in this story lol. Thank you!

Her Voice

Summary: You are introduced with the prince as his second option for a marriage in your family. But how will the Prince react to you own affliction | Mini-Series Masterlist

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

A/N: I changed the request up a little and it's strange that I got this ask because I do actually have a stutter myself that was debilitating growing up, so I tried to shoehorn some feelings that I felt myself into this character, but hopefully I still did it justice (and I made it more about her intelligence cos I think Aemond would find that hot)?

Thank you for the request anon! Also thank you all for your love and comments I really love them! I can’t comment on them since this is a side-blog, but I appreciate you all! 

Warnings: none, just fluff, Aegon being Aegon

"Do you think that any highborn woman with a brain between her eyes would desire to spend the rest of her life with a tempestuous prince?"

Alicent was circling the room, hands smoothing over one another to keep herself calm, doing this in exchange of picking at her fingernails, which her father hated. And with Otto sat brooding in the corner of the room, Alicent chose her actions wisely.

Aemond barely resisted the urge to roll his eye, one hand rested on one side of his face, disinterested. Another reprimand for his temper, his behaviour. He didn't realise his mother had it in her to keep on doing this for so long, especially after having a son like Aegon. But even then, her solution had been to marry him to his sister, and it was clear how well that ended. And how Aegon's actions persisted.

"Perhaps if they were not so empty-headed they would know to leave me be"

"Like it or not, you will be wed" Otto butted in, resulting in Aemond sending an annoyed glare, "It has been difficult enough to introduce ladies to you"

"Because they think me a monster" Aemond retorted, one hand gripping the arm of the chair beside him. His mother was still pacing around, a million thoughts banging around in her brain, working endlessly on how to resolve this. In truth, he did not enjoy seeing his mother in such distress and his heart to see her in this way more often than not.

"That is not true, Aemond" Alicent's voice was soft, as if he were still a child.

"True enough that it whispers through the court"

"A marriage and children with her would mean security in the Reach" Otto said simply. His mind forever focussed on matters political and never of the heart. Alicent was proof of this and at this quip, Aemond could see the discomfort it bought her.

"I do not wish to marry that loud-mouthed half-wit"

Every time Aemond protested, he could see his mother begin pacing around the room once more.

"At this rate, half the ladies in Westeros will have met that beast before you"

Aemond extended a hand out with a sigh, "It is no fault of mine that she is scared of Vhagar"

"It nearly landed on top of her, Aemond!" Alicent begged out and Aemond genuinely had to hold back a smile as he imagined Vhagar pinning the girls dress to the ground with her large claw. It had scared the girl stiff and her loud-mouthed was quickly stiffened from the presence of the largest dragon in the world before her. Her face pale as a sheet.

"Vhagar did not like her" he simply responded.

A moment passed in silence and Aemond nearly stood to leave when Alicent crossed her arms, her warm, brown eyes trained at her second son. Half in pride and half in scolding.

"There is of course, another choice" Alicent suggested quietly, taking a side glance at her father.

Now stood before his mother, seeing over her easily, he placed his arms behind his back, a brow was arched in not only question but anxiety at her suggestion.

"She has a younger sister, only half a year younger than you"

Aemond scoffed, "This is desperation"

"It is a suggestion" Alicent corrected. In front of her son, she seemed so small as she took his large hand in both of hers, her rings clicking together to rub her fingers over his skin, "See how you feel"

With a sigh, he took his leave.

There was no harm in trying.

The days seemed to pass the slowest and the Prince busied himself as he usually did, performing his duties. He trained with Ser Criston, he read books on various subjects and he rode on Vhagar in an attempt to tame this temper his mother so wanted gone. One that she thought would be solved by marriage.

But one insufferable thing he could never escape from, was court gossip.

It seemed so rampant and neverending that he wondered if the ladies ever did anything else.

On more than one occasion he heard the ladies talk in hushed whispers when he walked by.

"I heard his dragon almost ate her"

"I do not see what woman would want a man who looks like that"

"I think he looks rather handsome with it"

"Yes, but he has a quarrelsome temper. Blood of the dragon indeed"

"I heard her little sister is to join the court. His dragon may actually swallow her whole with any luck"

"She is a hollow little fool. I heard she has not spoken a word since she was a babe"

He knew better than to listen to any of it. But it seemed to impregnate the walls of the Keep, like a smell that won't go away. Slowly seeping out of the stone to skulk in heavy plunders of smoke across their feet. It smelled of deception and the feeling was so heavy, it was almost liquid.

Like oily blood.

He had barely paid attention to his mother as they all lined up outside the Keep, anticipating the sister's arrival. The older sister had been closest to the dirt road, wanting to see her siblings and father before anyone else. The Royals were all standing shoulder to shoulder at the top of the stone steps, Aemond's eye trained forwards, not focussed on anything in particular. Aegon wishing he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of a barrel of Dornish wine. And Helaena, whose gaze never found anyone's, staring at the ground, watching the ants disappear beneath her slipper.

Alicent almost jumped out of her skin as the lady screamed in delight seeing the familiar colours of her house on the side of the carriage, pulling up to a stop. Aemond's chest inflated and he tightened his grip behind his back, bracing for the undoubtedly emotionally painful exchange he was about to have.

The carriage door flung open and two brothers emerged, clearly a lot older than the sister had been, but nonetheless they scooped her up into a hug. Aemond raised an eyebrow and dared look over at his own brother, who was smiling back at him already, as if suggesting they should hug like that. And at this Aemond did roll his eye.

The three siblings were stuck like this for a moment, talking over and amongst each other like a clutter of turkeys and it was impossible to tell what they were actually saying. The father eventually found his footing outside the carriage, a small figure following small behind him, head lowered. The older sister wrapped her arms around her father's neck but she was quickly pushed away, and not a single one of them seemed to address the youngest, who blindly followed her father.

"Queen Alicent" the father addressed, taking her hand in his to kiss at the ring.

"My Lord, how nice it is to see you and your…family again" she swallowed her words and her roundabout manner made Aegon smile somewhat.

"And you, your Grace. I hope my daughter has been a grateful guest"

There was a faint echo in the background of her horrific laugh, the father closed his eyes slowly, bracing himself for the sound of it.

Alicent merely smiled, "I understand we are to receive your other daughter"

The father stepped aside, but the figure still remained relatively hidden, "Yes, although she is the slowest of my daughters, your Grace. She…finds it difficult to speak"

The father looked behind him again and gripped his other daughter's arm and Aemond noted how hard he held her, so much so that when he tore away the marks remained. And he wondered if he was so rough with his other daughter, the one he thought was the grace of his house.

The girl was presented before Alicent. Yes she shared features with her sister, but hers were much were smoothed out. Her sister, while sharp featured and cheeks plump, her eyes were too close together and her nose seemed unfit for her face. This sister however, her cheekbones were higher and eyes were almond-shaped and she had a faint mole next to her eye on one side.

Her eyes briefly met Alicent's and sent a small smile and a curtsy, doing the same to the Princes and Princess, but never really meeting any of their gazes directly.

"Your Grace, my youngest"

Aemond almost scoffed, he didn't even have the decency to address her by her birth name.

"As I say, your Grace, she is quite slow but her mind is nimble, her other senses remain…unaffected"

All the young woman could do was listen to her father's cruel words about her, her hands were clasped in front of her, one finger fiddling with a golden ring that was on a forefinger. Aemond's gaze raked over her form, the dress she wore just being a bit too tight and he wondered if it might have been in her ownership for a while and had grown too big for it. This made her chest swell against the fabric and her could not help but admire the way she fit into it as she inhaled and exhaled, the golden necklace against her chest moving as well.

It was as if she could feel his burning eye on her and her hand raised to her necklace to turn the pendant over, her gaze briefly meeting the one-eyed Prince's before her cheeks became flushed and averted instantly. In a strange turn of events, it made Aemond smirk, knowing that someone would blush in his presence.

"If you'd like to follow me, I can introduce you to the King" Alicent stepped side to side with her father, "Perhaps your children might amuse themselves"

Her father turned to face his children, a haggard expression on his face, "Make yourselves scarce"

The young woman merely watched as her siblings waltzed away without her, no doubt to drown themselves in drink. And she stood for a moment watching them enjoy themselves before feeling a hand grasp her elbow to find Aegon's face close to hers. She made a surprised sound.

"Extraordinary" he murmured, pulling the poor thing to walk with him, "How much I would give to have a woman who did not speak back"

She attempts to push herself away, but he was much stronger.

"I bet that mouth is as disgusting as those whores on the Street of Silk"

A hand clamped at Aegon's shoulder, shoving him away and the woman looked back to find Aemond parting the two with his body, a hand brushing against her arm to place her behind him.

"Brother, I do not think she desires your company"

With a focussed eye zoned in on his brother, Aemond failed to notice that she had himself wrapped his hand around her wrist. A wave of heat rose to her face s she looked down and saw how his large fingers easily took her, feeling the sheer body heat of the Prince next to her, so much so that she was able to smell the various musks that had attached themselves to him. A faint smell of leather from his clothes, whatever he used for his long, illustrious hair and then something akin to being around an animal. Was this what dragon smelled like? She wondered if he had been riding before meeting her family.

His touch was easily softer than Aegon's grip had been, and for this she was grateful. He had been the first man to lay a hand on her that had not been forceful. The brothers continued to bicker.

"She is not deaf, Aegon. She can hear you"

"Deaf or not, she is a simpleton. If you are to marry her, do yourself a favour and find comfort in others, as I do"

All the blood seemed to rush to your ears in embarrassment and you tore your wrist away from the prince, turning swiftly on your heel in the other direction, away from the harsh words you had unfortunately become accustomed to. Your steps were swift as you heard Aegon cackle with laughter, but you did not see Aemond's saddened stare bore into your back.

With a book clutched longingly to your chest and the echoes of your already drunken siblings echoing down the halls, you pushed a hand to the library door, finding comfort in the quiet of this room in the chaos that was the Red Keep.

It had of course, not been your first time here. You had accompanied your sister on her journey many moons ago, and even then you felt the stares of those at the court boring into you like a flame. The hushed whispers of those were not lost on you, perhaps they also thought you were deaf. But it didn’t matter. You heard the horrible things the ladies said about you and equally, the awful things the men said as well. Although some of those had been about other matters.

Contrary to popular belief, you were not entirely mute. A lot of it was purely by choice. And you had become accustomed to the silence, for simply trying to speak, becoming out of breath and tight about the chest, gave you more anxiety than simply saying nothing at all.

You sighed in relief, finding the library completely empty and almost just how you had left it all those months ago, when you had come here for relief after your sister had accustomed herself to the ladies.

The book, which you had been in the middle of reading last time you were here, was still perched on top of the fireplace in the heart of the room, with a piece of paper sticking out in the spot where you had been rudely torn away. Your hand grazed over the cover, feeling all the intricacies of the people who may have read it before you. The spine was slightly worn away, and the fabric that coated the front page was discoloured. But it was the book smell that enticed you so and you opened where you were to bring to the pages to your face.

It smelled like home. Like a solitary childhood.

It reminded you of who you were.

Someone so disenchanted with life that they would lose themselves in books, fiction or not.

You lifted your skirts, inhaling sharply as the corseted part of the gown dug into you for being too small. Your father refused the request for new dresses, so you had to make do. After all, it was your older sister who was supposed to be enamouring the Prince, not you. So what need was there for fine dresses.

The chair hugged you, its fabric arms tucking you in like a bed and you laid the book before you to pick up where you had left off, the only sound in the room being the flickering of some candles and the uncomfortable sound of your finger tracing the next page.

You had been so interested in your book, the large oak doors opened without a reaction from you.

"I know you are not deaf, my Lady"

The voice startled you, and your head popped round the back of the chair to see the Prince standing closely, smirking and arms tucked behind him. A surprised sound left you as you stood, the book that had been placed on your lap hurtling to the floor as well as a small notebook you had been clutching. Your cursed yourself for the clumsiness but offered him a curtsy all the same before bending to retrieve the books.

He seemed to move too quickly for his stature and had his hand flat on the book before you had even reached out. Turning it over he smiled, bringing the book with him stand,

"Ah, so it was you"

You grasped the small notebook in your hand and stood to meet his gaze, eyes slightly wide with fear. As if he had caught you in his grasp.

He let out a small laugh, which seemed uncharacteristic for him, "Do not worry. I merely found it"

He placed the book down on the table and looked back at her. Even though he had one eye, it seemed to rake over her for an eternity before returning to her face.

"Are you afraid, my Lady?" he asked, still smirking.

Realising that she had been gawking, gripping onto her notebook, she shook her head. He seemed satisfied with the answer, only offering a 'Hm' in response as he began pacing the space around her.

"I may have limited vision, but I can see you are not afraid of me"

His back was facing you now, and with his eye not trained on you, you took the opportunity to study him and his form for a moment.

He was tall and his long silver hair trailed over his back, thick and straight. He certainly had that air of intimidation behind him and seemed to dress as such to scare people. In thick black leather with clasps, he almost looked imprisoned in his own clothes, straining against them. All this study of his form made you look down at yourself, wondering what he thought of you. The small woman without a voice, dressed in the clothes she was made several years ago.

"Your sister says I have a temper" he started, turning slowly to meet your gaze. He studied the way the candles flickered washes of amber and yellowish hues onto the side of your face, bringing the flush of your face out even more. How the flames bounced off the colour of your eyes. He wondered; how could someone be so expressive with simply their gaze.

He could not explain it, but you seemed content in the silence between you.

Slowly, as if movement would trigger the man, you opened the small notebook you carried with you, using the strip of charcoal to scribble something down. Aemond smirked seeing how concentrated you looked staring at the pages, how the line in between your eyebrows popped out slightly as you wrote.

You passed him the notebook, pointing at the page. He handled the book with such care that is astonished you, the way his fingers grasped it, there was a sensitivity to it. You swallowed your breath as his eye ran over the page all too slowly.

I do not know you well, but I have seen no temper.

Without moving an inch, his eye met you again and for a moment you worried you had said something wrong. But he softly handed the notebook back to you, watching your every move.

"Is this how you communicate?" he asked genuinely.

You nodded, as if embarrassed. Thinking of something to write down, you quickly flipped to a new page.

He accepted the notebook again once you had done, looking significantly more nervous this time, the charcoal rubbing black on your fingers.

I hope that the suggestion of our marriage does not embarrass you. If it is to be, I will be an amenable wife.

Aemond read the words on the page a few times, each time saddening him more so than the last. He saw how you fumbled with the charcoal, eyes averted, afraid of his reaction. He sighed so quietly that you did not hear it and only looked up once again when he handed the notebook back to you.

The words seemed to sincere, it bought a pain to his heart to see you think such things.

"Do not reduce yourself to such a thing" he said. But you did not look up.

There was a pregnant pause between you both as he regarded you.

"You are not entirely mute, are you"

You shook your head at his question, he winced at the painful look on your face. Immediately scribbling something down, faster this time.

It is sometimes better not to say anything at all.

Aemond nodded at this, "It is good advice, perhaps it can be bestowed on some within the court"

At this genuinely unexpected quip, you looked up at him letting a laugh escape you, hand immediately coming to your face to hide the smile that bubbled there.

It surprised you how quickly his eyes lit up upon hearing your voice. You could not help but look at him as he smiled before you, your cheeks firing up with embarrassment and you cleared your throat almost immediately, trying to dispel the air.

"You have a lovely voice" he said. It was here that you realised you were still smiling, eyes on his face, trying to find any signs of deception. For a second, you opened your mouth, tempted to say something. But the confidence quickly died as a block constricted your throat and the breath was expelled, but you nodded anyway, in thanks.

Do you read?

He nodded, gesturing to the book you had been reading, now reserved to the side table, all but forgotten.

"I do. I come here often" he said quietly, pacing about again.

You could no longer hide the way you looked at him. Your sister had said he was quick to rise and that she had been scared stiff at the interactions with him, that he had given her no notion of acceptance or equality. She spoke like he thought he was above everyone else.

But this was not the person you saw before you. Before you was some so soft spoken, you could barely hear him most of the time. Someone who enjoyed the serenity of a quiet library with the only sound being the flickering of the candles and the rain hitting the stone walls outside. You envisioned him being the only one to people-watch at parties, not amusing himself with the prospect of dancing. And perhaps not entertaining the thought of speaking to a woman directly.

"I come here when people like your sister remark on my tempestuous nature. Solitude is the only remedy for it" he paused looking over at you, "I imagine it is the same for you"

You scribbled something down, meeting his gaze when you handed it over.

Perhaps it is just that we are misunderstood. Solitude offers comfort.

A smile tugged at his lips once more and he thought that this is the most he had smiled in a long time.

"And books, it seems"

You nod genuinely, your eyes lighting up with an idea. Placing the notebook to one side, you rush past the Prince, giving him an opportune moment to feel the fabric of your skirts pass his thigh and the whips of your hair drag across the leather of his arm, releasing their scent. And with his eyes closed, he relished in these perfumes.

He allowed himself to think about what it would be like to live in that scent. To have it around him.

You placed a book in his hand, looking up at him excitedly. His long fingers grazed over the cover, admiring the gold leaf applied to it.

"Is this your favourite?" he asked, noting how close you remained after placing the book in his hand, though this you had not realised yet. You nodded, smiling as he opened the cover page to inspect the contents. A book he had not read.

He squinted at the pages, confused and looked back at you, barely needing to move his head since he was so tall.

"You can read this?" he asked. Ever humble, you shrugged your shoulders, "This is Valyrian" he sounded almost as if he did not believe you.

But you had read enough books for a lifetime already and you intended to prove to the Prince that what you were implying was truth.

Taking a deep breath, you lean forward and point to a word in Valyrian, inspecting the swirling text upside down. It had been a page right in the middle, telling the history of Aegon the Conqueror's mission to the Riverlands.  

"…i-istan…hae…" you took another breath, not meeting the Prince's eye, nervous that if you did all confidence would surely die, "…darys…"

"…dārys" Aemond softly corrected. You could not help but look up at him now, the eye that had been filled with mischief and confidence, now had something else there. You licked your lips and motioned for him to repeat what he has said so you might copy, "dārys…"

"…dārys…h-he….he…" you struggled on the 'h' sounds of the next words, so paused to gather your breath and push past the newly developing blocks. But the Prince waited patiently, more enamoured at the fact that you were attempting to speak before him and that this was possibly the most you had said to anyone in months, perhaps years.

The mere sound of your own voice surprised you, but concentrated on finishing the sentence, you licked your lips once again in concentration. Aemond almost laughed as the line between your eyebrows returned, "…hen ry…vest, vesteros…o-o…" you sighed at yourself, frustrated. The words beginning with vowels were always the hardest.

"…ondoso…" you managed, pushing past the breath quickly and it was the loudest word you spoke in the whole sentence. It felt clumsy and wrong, but if you had looked ahead, you would have seen the hooded look of Aemond looking down at you, mouthing along with you in silent appreciation.

"…rhaenys…" you finished, looking up at the prince. He closed the book and repeated the word back at you but with the trilled 'r' that was difficult for many to pronounce. You smiled, fiddling with your hair, only now realising how close you were to him so you were able to read the book.

You stepped back, suddenly feeling embarrassed and hot. As if you'd been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

"Very good" he said. The smile on your face was difficult to keep at bay and he placed the book to one side, "It is not an easy language to learn. From books?" he asked, to which you nodded.

You were grateful he did not mention anything about your slowness, about the stumbling over the words. He simply complimented your ability to even read and speak any Valyrian and that was all you wanted from him.

You scribbled down.

Perhaps you could teach me how to pronounce it properly.

"I would enjoy that, my Lady" he stepped forward to give you the notebook back, only to keep a hold on it when you tried to take it. His other hand laid on top of hers and all of a sudden, it all felt so real.

You could feel his fingers rub over yours with a strangely soft touch and all the heat rose to your face again.

"It is a brave thing, to show yourself to someone" he said, looking down at you, "Someday, I hope to do the same for you" he said quietly.

You flicked from one of his eyes to his eyepatch, knowing that this was the source of his own pain. All the things the ladies and your sister had said about this man. Saying he was monstrous, tempestuous and someone to fear. It was clear that these people just did not know him.

"Being with you is like being alone" he said quietly, almost to say it to himself.

Your other hand came to his arm, hand smoothing over the soft leather, reaching out to touch him to see if he was real. Your smaller hands barely came around his arm but you squeezed it, offering whatever comfort you could.

At his words, you nodded in agreement, and he could see the sincerity in your eyes. Perhaps he merely wanted to be understood, like everyone would like, but something that people like yourselves was difficult to find.

Dropping the notebook, the charcoal fell to the ground and snapped in two and before Aemond could open his mouth to question, you laid your head against his chest, hearing and feeling his heartbeat through the thick leathers.

He stood stock still for a moment, hands suspended in the warm air around you until he carefully laid them on your shoulders, pulling the hair over your shoulder. And for a moment he could not tell if he was greatly confused, shocked, horrified or comforted by the feeling.

A shudder rattled down your back as you felt his chin rest on top of your head.

"Kirimvose" he whispered, making a burst of air leave you with a laugh. It sounded mildly forced, and it warmed your chest in a way that bloomed across your whole body, knowing now that despite his discomfort, he had said it.

Thank you.

[venjras]

MIND GAMES - EREN YEAGER.

screaming, crying, throwing up, i love this one sm. hope you’ll enjoy it too. nsfw : slightly exhibitionism, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, use of pet names, mention of alcool.

you felt on top of the world tonight, you could feel the electricity running through your entire body. heading to the bar where your boyfriend was waiting for you with his friends, since you were early for your date with your bestie you had decided to stop by for a quick hi. after all, it had been a while since you had last seen the boys.

you would have recognized your boyfriend's dark hair from miles away, sitting with one arm resting on the couch, shirt unbuttoned and a bold smirk as he talked to the others. it still seemed unreal that he was your boyfriend. sigh, entering his vision and immediately gaining his full attention. his gaze was quite literally setting you on fire, making it really difficult for you to walk properly towards them. “oh, oh, look who's back.” it was erwin's voice greeting you, bringing you back to the real world. in the meantime eren had stood up, immediately putting an arm around your waist and stealing a small kiss from you. “hello, my love.” his deep tone ran straight down your spine, creating a flock of butterflies in your stomach that made it hard to breathe. trying not to show it, settling next to him, taking off your jacket and leaving it abandoned next to your body, leaving your fit completely expose.

a flowing mini skirt that reached just above your mid thigh, a black shirt tucked into it, extremely tight, mid-knee boots and as a final touch hanging from your neck was the necklace he had given you for your anniversary. shiny. “didn’t think you’d miss me that much, don’t worry it won’t happen again.” you said sarcastically, greeting levi, jean and armin sitting around the rest of the table. they all adored you and it was a mutual feeling, right from the start you had found a really good connection and after all they had turned out to be such precious friends for eren so it couldn’t have been otherwise.

speaking of the devil, he hadn’t taken his eyes off you for not even a second. his arm was stretched out behind you, his hand caressing the back of your neck. he always needed some form of physical contact, even small and this thing had always driven you crazy. it made you weak, slowing down any logic and rational thought. putting you under a spell. you were all lost in talking, chatting about the news and joking animatedly. after half an hour you glimpsed your friend and stood up to hug her immediately. the skirt had risen up a bit, giving a dizzying view to the dark-haired man who couldn't help but lick his lips. just enough to tease him a little. tonight you felt inspired, you wanted to provoke him and maybe end up bent over in the back of his car. obviously the view was simply reserved for him, behind you all was the wall and it was something calculated to perfection. putting on your coat, bending a little to greet him with a kiss and finding his hand on the back of your thigh, caressing the naked skin with his fingertips. “i’ll take you home, hmm? have fun, babydoll.” and so he let you go, your head spinning and your friend’s words sounding all jumbled together.

the hours passed quickly, between one drink and another, not enough to make you drunk but enough to make you feel lightheaded. however, the feeling in the pit of your stomach had not abandoned you, in fact it had only increased. now you were in the car with him, in the passenger seat, you two were driving your friend home. and once you were alone, silence had fallen, but it was a silence full of desire, as if there was no need to speak to know what was going to happen soon. very soon. “baby..” you turned your head towards him, reaching out to caress his hair, now tied in a small ponytail at the back of his head. “i really, really need you.” the words had come out fluidly before you could even think about them, your voice full of need, of desire. taking his hand, already resting on your thigh, bringing it even higher until it collided with the edge of your panties.

the car suddenly stopped, luckily you were on a not very busy street and almost immersed in nothing but pitch black so it was rare for other cars to pass by. in no time you were on top of him, his mouth attached to yours, drinking you up desperately. hands squeezing your ass, pushing you down on his clothed erection, making you feel how much the whole situation was anything but indifferent to him. moaning against his lips. starting to move your hips against his cock, panting as you felt how hard he was. “need you so bad..” your voice was needy, pulling away from him just so you could look at him with pleading eyes, thinking that you could easily come just by seeing him with labored breathing and messy hair, totally fucked.

now he had you turned, back against his chest and the car visor lowered so you could see yourself in the small mirror. legs spread, blushing violently at the thought of being completely exposed to his merce. “you wanted to play, then let’s play.” he said huskily in your ear, making you want to clench your thighs together in search of some relief but being stopped by his hands that kept them well spread. “eren..” your voice was begging him, lifting your hips slightly as one of your hands went back, squeezing his dark locks, not thinking you could resist any longer. you needed him to touch you right now. “what a messy girl.” he quipped at the way your thighs seemed to spread wider at those word, your impatience made him feel lightheaded. his fingers stroking softly along your wet folds through the panties’ fabric. his breathing fanned along your neck and his lips curled when you shuddered into him, drinking in the twitch of your thighs and the muffled whimper slipped from your lips when he collected your slick, trailing it up to ease the first roll of your clit.

he watched your hips twist under his touch, making him press down on the sensitive bud harder before he's finding a pace and rubbing at you with two fingers. your hands grabbing at his forearm with every sinful circle of his fingers against your cunt, whimpering needily against his body and it's almost like you're begging him not to stop, and that only drives him to press into you even harder, more eagerly as he get lost in the way your lips part to moan when he finally sinks his fingers into your pussy. penties finally pulled to the side. “so fucking wet, my pussy it’s always so ready f’ me." he groaned, his tone wavering with the weight of his arousal. he took a handful of your breast through your shirt, grinning when he realised you've decided to go out without a bra tonight, rolling and twisting at the sensitive peak as you whimpered. “such a dirty girl..” eren’s words were heavy, only making the slick between your legs intensify, making it easier for him to sink his fingers into your tight walls, pressing them against the swollen, sensitive spots inside of you with every practiced twist of his wrist. your clit was getting puffier, more swollen with each graze of his palm against it and he couldn't help but pull out of your cunt to rub your slick around it. so so sensitive to his touch.

“e — eren.. ” you gasped, trying desperately to muffle your moans when you looked over to cast him a starry-eyed look, one that lured him in for a kiss that made the whole car spin as his other hand rolled your sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger. drinking in your next languid moan of his name, licking into your mouth with such an intensity that made you gasp.

“that's my girl, fuck — ” your thighs trembled around him, breaking apart from the kiss wetly to let your head fall back against his shoulder. he kept up his movements, sinking his fingers into your clenching walls with every few swipes just so he could feel the way you were soon going to be squeezing around his length. letting you ride out your orgasm as you grabbed at him and your hips twisted and jolted with every rub of his fingers as they pulled back to roll your clit, prolonging your blissful state until you were pushing him away with a whimper and breathless pant. but he was breathing heavy from where his chin was pressed into your shoulder, grazing his lips along your jawline when he tapped on your clit. chuckling at the way the tiny aftershocks made you jolt before he gently tapped on your thigh.

you just could never win with him, you would always end up at his feet in the end. not only metaphorically.

©️ venjras.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 20

Emily Prentiss x reader warning: language, alcohol, smut mentioned. i think thats about it? 4.7k

Salt Lake City was boring, tedious even with little to nothing to keep your brain occupied as you sat through meeting after meeting, several interviews, and public statements. It was a walk in the park type of excursion for Heather, supporters already wooed, state governors already in her pocket, it was as if she was just visiting a bunch of old friends and family. You honestly weren’t even sure what she needed you there for, Cynthia was there, her PA had tagged along now that they were back from vacation, you easily could have done your job through the internet from the comfort of your couch and not had to cancel on Emily. Your phone ended up holding your attention for most of the day and most of that wasn’t actually work related. After exhausting all your brain power on what she could possibly want you on there was only one thing left on your mind.

Which is why when you got back from dinner you stepped out of your heels and wandered through the adjoining door to her hotel room.

“That was practically torture.” You grumbled as you padded through her room.

Heather had her back to you, her phone in her hands as she shot of a couple of texts, a small laugh escaping her lips, “and here I was thinking you would enjoy that caviar flight.”

“I’ve had fresher.” You replied with a huff, “and I meant the whole day not just dinner.”

She chuckled again, removing her earrings, placing them down for safe keeping, “no wonder you were so distracted, you spent more than half of it on your phone.” She finally turned to face you.

“I was simply killing time.” You stated with a shrug, the strap of your dress falling past your shoulder, “and now we’re here…” you cocked a brow in her direction and her lips pursed for a moment.

“Wait.” Her fingers reached out, neatly pulling the strap of your dress back over your shoulder, smoothing the fabric over your skin and she could feel the way you nearly tensed under her touch.

“Wait, what?” You dropped down onto the edge of her bed, suddenly feeling rather self conscious, “you need to take a call or something?”

“No, but I think you might have some thinking to do.”

“I’m confused.”

“We don’t need to do this.”

“We always do this,” you replied, your brows furrowing. It wasn’t that you were hurt or even disappointed, honestly you were a little too tired for her usual level of exertion. You were just incredibly perplexed, “it’s almost like a …tradition or something by now.”

“Sweetheart, know that I am definitely not turning you down,” she started, her hand gently pinching at your chin, “but are you sure you even want to fuck me right now? Or is this purely out of habit?”

Your lips parted as if you had something ready to say to her when your head tilted and your mouth shut once again, your lips pressed against each other tightly as you thought it over. You looked back up at her, your head still tilted as you surveyed her.

“Have you finally hit menopause?”

Heather gawked, barking out a laugh as she stepped towards the mini bar, plucking two of the mini goblets of wine and passing one to you. “Why on earth would you assume that?”

“I ‘ve known you over twenty years and you don’t turn down sex.”

A small grin took over her lips as she stepped back towards you, “I do when the other person is taken.”

“I’m not”—

She cut you off with a look and you were even more confused when her fingers slipped into the neckline of your dress, knuckles brushing your chest as she tugged it down and a sudden blush took over your cheeks.

“Maybe not by a label, but you are covered in possessive marks. Three that I can see on your tits, one that you’ve done a decent job covering up on your neck and I’m not even sure I want to know what I’ll find on your thighs.” She let the fabric spring back into its proper place, and you felt a little less exposed, shifting in your seat you could still feel the ache between your thighs.

“You’re over thinking things Heat, we had a rough session. I told her to be rough, to bite harder, she was just doing what I asked.”

“Possibly.” She unscrewed the wine, taking a sip, “but I think when it comes down to it, Emily Prentiss isn’t an idiot. She’s a profiler no matter what situation she’s in, it’s what comes naturally. She saw that bracelet, heard the teasing and jokes about how much it cost and your winter bonus after we’d been out of town and put two and two together that we fucked that week.”

You let out a tired sigh, your hand brushing over your face before you cracked your own drink to take a swig, “the literal teeth marks you left on my leg probably didn’t help.”

“Those should have healed by the weekend.”

“I saw her the night we got back.” You looked up to her with another groan, “and she knows I had blood taken that day…”

“And now she knew that we were travelling again and wanted to leave a little reminder. Whether for you or me, that’s still up for debate.” She chuckled, “it might not be jealousy, but I know how to read a situation and that’s what’s coming off right now. I highly doubt she wants to share anymore.”

“She always said she never wanted strings.” You shrugged, “I was just playing by the rules of the contract.”

“Contracts can always be ripped up,” she noted, “but that’s not important. What is, is what do you want.”

Looking up at her you were surprised when nothing instantly came to your mouth, instead gaping at her as your brain tried to unscramble all of the wires. You knew you enjoyed sex with Emily, that you enjoyed your time with her and certainly wouldn’t complain about more. Tony’s arguments had already been lingering in your brain all week, hell, you’d spent most of the day smiling at your phone like an idiot texting Emily about how bored you were.

Heather burst you out of your bubble back to reality when she tapped her finger to the tip of your nose, a knowing grin on her lips.

“My point exactly. You don’t spend a week and a half in the Maldives with someone and not fall for them. Especially with how incredibly sappy you get over the damn ocean. What I find puerile she likely finds endearing.”

“Sorry, what?”

This time the gentle poke landed on your forehead, “you’re smart. Now use that brain of yours to figure it out. You’ve been doing this arrangement for a while now, maybe it’s time to pull the plug. What direction you choose to go in after that is up to you and I think you already know. I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you at this point.” Her fingers fiddled with your earlobe, “you’ve been wearing those since you came back.”

“Huh…” you clucked your tongue, your own fingers replacing hers as you toyed with the starfish earring.

“Now go,” she swatted at your side, handing you the mini wine she’d taken a sip out of, “rack up a mini bar charge and do some thinking. Lord knows you didn’t use your brain for anything today but texting.”

You let out a mock scoff as you shuffled from the room, knowing that the comment was in jest, but made sure to swipe another drink from her fridge before you stepped back into your own room. Before you could even circle back and ask the original question, she was already a step ahead of you.

“And I brought you on this trip because we have brunch with the governor tomorrow and she’s got a soft spot for you. Thinks I’m too harsh or something, thought maybe you could warm her up.”

Right. There it was.

**

Over in DC, Emily was nearly in the same boat as you, although she’d already done her thinking about how she felt, it didn’t take a mastermind to realize that she had feelings. Feelings that were more than just sexual. If she had still been struggling with that last week, it was made pretty clear to her when the rage of jealousy surged through her at even the thought of DiNozzo managing to sleep with you. As the days crept by, she had finally accepted that the trip to the Maldives had been to get one up on Heather, to prove that something like that and the quality time that came along with it was worth far more than a stupid bracelet. A bracelet she hadn’t seen since, and on top of that, in every cute picture you’d sent her since coming home you’d been wearing the earrings she bought for you. Earrings that meant a hell of a lot more than a price tag.

Still, there shouldn’t have been any reason for her to still be closed in her office when it was pushing eleven pm.

Except that she didn’t want to go home. Home meant quiet, too quiet, too personal, too much space for her thoughts to start to get lost in. That meant seeing the toothbrush that belonged to you next to hers when she went to wash her face, the mini bottle of skin care tucked in a corner of her basin. It meant noticing that you’d left a sweater strewn over the back of her couch, a novel you were halfway through forgotten on her coffee table that would bring back the memory of you curled up on a chilly Sunday morning with a cup of coffee completely engrossed in the story while she slept in. It meant tossing and turning when she couldn’t sleep and ending up grabbing the other pillow only for the scent of your shampoo to invade her nose and keep her up all night until she spewed off some sappy revealing middle of the night text to you.

All things considered; work sounded like the safer option.

She was going back and fourth between a handful of casefiles, trying to figure out which one deemed priority once they wrapped their current one (or NCIS decided they could oversee the closing on their own). Take out sat relatively untouched to her side, at the very least she’d eaten the spring rolls and fortune cookie and there was no way she was getting through tonight without sneaking a coffee mug full of wine. The building was relatively quiet, and she thought she was alone until there was a knock on her door and she jolted upright, looking across the room to find DiNozzo lingering in the doorway.

He muttered an apology, crossing the room to add another file to her inbox as he ran through what he’d found. Emily could have sworn she was listening, she could hear his voice, she was processing the information, her brain already figuring out how to approach everything with the rest of the team in the morning, what kind of homework it likely meant for her and Garcia. Tony watched as she scribbled something down on a post it, sticking it to her computer monitor and started to step out of the room, half wondering if she was listening at all. She kept glancing towards her phone, poking the screen as if she was expecting a call, like phantom vibrations were going off and pulling her attention. He mumbled something about leaving, that she should probably head home soon too and she made a noise in his direction as her eyes fell to her phone again, this time swiping it open to her messenger app before letting out a soft sigh. He had made it all the way to the door by the time her voice rang through the office clear as day.

“Hey, what time is it in Salt Lake right now?”

“Uh…” He pulled his wrist up, studying his watch, “they’re two hours behind us so… eight fifty three?”

Emily let out a hum of sorts, her fingers prodding at her phone again as if she expected it to jump to life out of nowhere. As much as Tony wanted to get out of there, a movie and a cold beer calling his name, he knew that look of longing too much, hand faltering on the doorjamb as he pulled himself back into her office.

“You know, those political dinners, they’re insane, entire theatre productions from start to finish.” He waved his hand for exaggeration, “it doesn’t matter how fast anyone wants them done with, someone’s gonna order every single course and one of every dessert, they drag on for hours.” He glanced down to her phone screen, “she’s probably out rubbing elbows pretending she knows how to smoke a cigar.”

“Huh?” Emily’s attention was finally pulled from her thoughts and she looked up at the man, a near concerned look written across her face and he sighed softly, daring to step further into her office.

“Listen, I know this isn’t exactly my place, and I’m definitely not a profiler, but I’m still an investigator…”

“Go on…” She folded her arms in front of her, elbows propped on her desk.

“This is about Walton and Heather being out of town together again, right?”

“She’s out of town, that doesn’t bother me.”

“But you found out about their… extracurriculars…” He offered, cautiously sitting down in a chair across from her desk and she let out a small huff, her eyes darting over to her phone for a second to avoid the question.

“Yeah.”

Tony’s head nodded, biting his lip for a second as he debated just how much of a verbal lashing he could get for something like this, “and you’re not a fan of that, so you’re sitting here still pretending to work rather than going home to relax because you know once you do you won’t be able to think of anything except that and that sounds even worse.”

Emily’s eyes snapped from her phone up to Tony as she jumped back into the conversation that was actually happening rather than the thoughts flying around in her head and her eyes narrowed, casting him a look so hard that he nearly gulped.

“I’m in my office late all the time.” She attempted to justify, “maybe you wouldn’t get it but as a team leader there is literally always something to do, another problem to solve another case to dwell over.”

“Yeah but it isn’t all about work, you’ve gotta have something to distract yourself.”

“I did—I- ac- do!” She tried to hide her flub but the smirk on his lips was telling that he already caught it and she groaned, praying her cheeks weren’t visibly heated, “c’mon. What does Gibbs do?”

“Builds boats in his garage.”

“Miniatures?”

“Full sized. In sailable condition.”

“Huh…” Emily’s head titled, her brow furrowing as her gaze drifted out the window, silence taking over the room for a moment before she spoke again, “how does he get them out?”

“No one knows.” He shrugged.

“Huh…”

Tony chuckled, letting her try to figure it out for a minute before shoving his nose back into her business, “listen, I know it’s not my place at all, but I do know her pretty well and I know she really likes spending time with you. She can be a bit of an enigma and that’s only gotten more intense the longer she’s worked the job she has, having to play pretend and like she’s best friends with half those douchebags when in reality she doesn’t let a lot of people in… ever.”

“And what? I’m ‘the one who’s different’?” Emily nearly scoffed as her fingers made air quotes around the words, pulling a small laugh out of DiNozzo.

“Considering the amount of crap you have lying around her apartment, yeah.” His lips curved up into a grin at her surprised reaction, “she likes you. And she’s reasonable. You wanna change whatever agreement you have, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Yeah?” She raised a brow, an unsettling feeling in her gut as her eyes dropped to her phone once again, still utterly void of notifications, “and if she comes home with teeth marks again?”

“From what I’ve heard you left some pretty impressive bruises yourself.” It slipped out of his mouth before he even realized and Emily made an unintelligible noise before blushing, sinking deeper into her chair. “Besides, Heather is the last of your worries, okay? She’s never going to be a threat, she’s married, always will be and always has a string of other mistresses, that isn’t long term for anyone and it was always incredibly casual between them. But that doesn’t mean that someone else won’t come along, take it from me, you’re gonna wanna say something before it’s too late.”

A sparkle flashed through Emily’s eyes, a sneaky grin taking over her lips as she shifted gears, “yeah? Ziva get a boyfriend?”

“Arrrhhhh!” Tony let out a frustrated groan as he pulled himself up from the chair, stomping his feet in a little tantrum, pouting when he turned back to her, “she went on a daaaaaate.”

“Then buck up and take your own advice DiNozzo.” She laughed and he huffed.

“Fine.” Grumbling he made his way back to the door before he suddenly turned back, “can I ask one last thing?”

“Sure.”  She figured the least she could do was humour him at this point.

“Do you guys have some kinda Pretty Woman rule going on?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed as she let out a laugh, “DiNozzo come on, I thought you of all people would have put t together by now. Yeah, I take her on dates, gift her cash, she… compensates otherwise.”

“No.” He chuckled, “have you seen the movie?”

“Not in about a million years.”

“Julia Roberts character has this thing, she doesn’t kiss her clients, especially on the lips, it’s too intimate, too personal.”

“Okay…” The confused expression remained on her face, having no clue what he was getting at.

“Think about it. When you greet each other, or say good bye, is it an actual kiss greeting, one of the more casual cheek kisses? Are there those longing goodbye kisses where you can’t let go of the other person because you don’t want to leave, or is it brief and that lingering feeling’s like, tickling away under your skin instead?”

“I…” Emily’s gaze dropped, thinking through as many of your interactions as she could. It made sense that any greetings were impersonal, they were usually in public, everything had been kept on a strict business level of communication when you’d first started. You barely kissed on the mouth in more intimate moments. “Huh…”

“See?” Tony stepped backwards toward the door, “movie magic, always a truth to it. Next time you see her? Kiss her. Really kiss her. Because if anything it’ll help you realize that you never want to let her go.”

“I think you might spend a little bit too much time watching romance movies.” She laughed.

“Really?” He raised a brow, “then prove me wrong.”

**

You were sitting on your hotel bed, phone twirling around between your hands as you stared at whatever the television was playing. You’d spent far too long in the shower trying to clear your head, using every single toiletry they had before drying yourself off with the fluffiest towel and putting on your pyjamas. Sinking against the headboard you’d drifted off to a field of memories, the visions replaying in your mind as you ignored the television. When those weren’t enough you’d opened the photo gallery on your phone, scrolling through the assortment of pictures, mainly ones from the Maldives, too many of the ocean to even count.

The door between your rooms remained unlocked, cracked open so you could still bother each other. Heather had assumedly gotten an email or update about the morning, knocking briefly before swinging the door open. She stayed perched in the doorway, letting you have your space while she rambled on. She stopped suddenly, looking up from her phone to catch you staring into space, your eyes completely unfocused.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Huh?” You looked up, blinking a few times as you returned to earth.

“What is going on in that pretty little head?” Heather asked, relaxing against the doorjamb as her arms crossed over her chest, “I leave you for a couple of hours and your zonked out? Talk to me.”

You let out a tired huff, swiping the mini wine bottle from the nightstand and draining it in one go, “how am I supposed to do this?”

“Do what?” Her voice was softer than you’d expected it, the more maternal side of her beginning to come out.

“Shift from being a sugar baby to… more…” When you looked up at her there was a level of hesitancy she had never seen behind your eyes.

“Just tell her you want to end the arrangement, gauge her response, readjust and go from there.” She replied, as if it was easy as placing a coffee order.

“I dunno…” your eyes dropped, “I mean, all I’ve heard are the horror stories of girls crying on your doorstep being nearly pathetic cause they want more. Hell, I’ve witnessed that Heather. It doesn’t exactly look like a fun time.”

“You’re overthinking. And you’re worried.” The other woman’s face fell at the way you started picking at your cuticles.

“Obviously.” You let out an unsure laugh before looking up at her, “I mean, c’mon. She’s a fucking profiler, there’s no way that she hasn’t figured me out yet, even if it took me longer. She reads body language for a living and if she wanted to have more she would have said something already.” You took another swig of wine, “I let you and Tony get under my skin, let you plant ideas in my head and now it’s all I can think about. I can’t focus, I haven’t gotten a single piece of work done and I…”

“Oh sweetheart…” Heather’s voice softened once again, moving through the room to perch on the foot of the bed.

“What?” You asked dryly, looking up at her.

“You’re not just worried, you’re scared.”

“Well…” you gestured vaguely and let out a huff, “it all seems kind of ridiculous. I mean, have you ever felt like this? Been this confused?”

“Of course.” She chuckled.

“But you’re so… distant, cold even. You’ve got all these rules and they’re strict.”

“What a pleasant way of calling me a bitch.” She teased with a smirk and you rolled your eyes, “I had those kind of feelings and internal panic when I first started dating my husband.” She let that sink in, “which is why you shouldn’t think about or compare anything that has ever happened with me and a sugar baby, because its not the same.”

“What’d you mean?”

“They’re never long term.” Her head shook, “It’s all about the business, the transaction and as you said, I keep extremely strict lines. Yours have started to blur. Emily’s not married, she’s not committed to anyone else and neither are you, it’s easy to start to slip out of whatever boundaries you previously set, especially if you like each other. What started out as an arrangement sometimes does turn into something real, and while I haven’t really seen the two of you together I can definitely understand why it would work out so I think it’s worth a shot.”

You sighed, and Heather frowned at how dejected you looked in that moment, “I dunno….”

She squeezed at your hand, “you’re all caught up in your head thinking about all the things that could go terribly wrong, but hear me out… what if they go right?”

Heather didn’t give you time to reply, rather she leant in, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head before sweeping from the room, the adjoining door swinging shut behind her and you heard the click of the lock shutting.

**

Emily finally dragged herself out of the office after DiNozzo’s visit, try as she might to get a little bit more work done, she now found that his words kept repeating themselves through her brain. If she couldn’t focus on anything, she may as well be able to do it in the comfort of her own home and definitely without her bra digging into her ribcage.

She poured a glass of wine, taking her first sip as she stared out the windows, sweeping across the view and let out a soft sigh. It felt like not that long ago she was standing in the same spot trying to figure out what was missing from her life. Now she knew exactly what she was missing, she missed you, missed your weekly dates that had become more frequent over time. Spending time with you made her happy, you made her happy, wasn’t that what she had wanted in the first place? Happiness? Someone to spend time with that made her heart sing? She huffed out a laugh, maybe that was a little too over the top. She’d wanted someone to spend her time with that made it enjoyable, that brought out a different side to her than the one who worked constantly. You just so happened to be that for her. You also just happened to be the one who was across the country not thinking about her at all while you were the only thing she could think of.

“Fuck..” She whispered softly, dropping her gaze from the window as she sulked towards the living room to drop down on the couch.

She was jealous.

And she absolutely hated that.

You weren’t technically hers, you had both agreed on your limitations, on what was okay outside of your agreement and until the two of you had time to revisit that, she had no real right to be feeling like this. Her free hand twitched and her eyes darted back to the kitchen cupboard she had a pack of cigarette’s stashed for times just like this. She took another swig of wine, nearly draining the glass in an attempt to clog her thoughts, about to stand up when her phone buzzed on the coffee table.

She was genuinely surprised to see a message from you flash across the screen. While you had been texting pretty regularly throughout the afternoon, the moment dinner time hit had been nothing but radio silence. She picked it up, swiping open the thread.

‘God, remind me to never take a SLC trip again. I’ve never been so bored in my life. We’ve got a pit stop in Kansas City on the way but I should be back in DC in time for a late dinner tomorrow… if you’re interested?’

Her heart leapt in her throat and she had to try to resist immediately typing out every little feeling that was flying through her brain in the moment. Instead, she took a breath, finished the last of her wine and replied with something easy.

‘I’d love that.’

She got up, moving toward the kitchen, though the thought of a smoke was far gone from her brain now, she just figured another glass of wine wouldn’t hurt.

‘You better not still be at the office.’

The warning text came through with a playful emoji to make sure she knew you were teasing. She smiled softly, snapping a picture of the wine glass with the view in the background and sending it back to you. It didn’t take long for your next message to come through.

‘Good. But it’s late. Make sure you get some rest tonight.’

‘You too.’

Emily felt her shoulders drop as she let out a breath, moving back to the couch sans cigarettes to finish her wine with a feeling of hope resting in her chest.

_________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @hopedoesntknow @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovakxprentiss @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @m1lfsh4ke

[sleepymarimo]

𝕤𝕟𝕒𝕡 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥!

summary: when he sees you falling for the charms of a particular chef, law decides that he needs to step in... pairing: law x gn!reader cw: law is lowkey (highkey) manipulative?? an: a little longer than i thought it would be lol but i hope y'all enjoy wc: ~900 ⤷ based on this song! ⤷ part of this arctic monkeys mini event!

law's decision to take you to punk hazard with him was based on, more or less, rational reasons. you had a level head on your shoulders, your loyalty was unwavering and you were skilled in your area of expertise.

but most importantly? he could keep an eye on you.

yet, as the thousand sunny sailed off with the two of you in tow, he can't help but regret his decision.

with crossed arms, he leans against the railing and watches the love sick cook tend to your every need. the blond pampers you with flirtatious comments and treats of your choice, his eyes pooling with lust.

law can just tell that you're flattered by the attention.

for a second he opts to look away, his gaze snapping downwards to the swordsman who was napping a couple feet from him. he rolls his eyes at the sight, unable to keep his focus off of you for long.

your fidgeting fingers, bashful smile and the way you don't even attempt to push away the cook all wear law's patience down. you even lean into sanji's personal space, your whole body turning as you offered him all of your attention.

are you completely blind? law wonders, unable to hold in a scoff. briefly, he considers grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking the foolishness out of you.

he gets it.

confined to the walls of the polar tang, surrounded by crew mates who were akin to family, this kind of attention must have been appealing to you. that doesn't mean he has to like it, though. especially when, for nearly the past month, he's been thinking of a plan to tell you how he feels.

between managing the crew's best interests and his own desires, he chooses to bide his time. he can hold out. he's been holding out, ever since you came aboard his vessel. but he's smart and wary when it comes to such matters, so he takes to making things happen behind the scenes.

it's a little much, sure, but the surgeon is adamant on getting what he wants.

does he know what's best for you? law likes to think so.

the moment sanji drapes an arm around your shoulders, he decides that he's had enough. a familiar blue hue encapsulates the deck of the ship. "room."

accustomed to the spectacle that is law's devil fruit ability, you simply look towards your captain and offer him an inquisitive expression.

"shambles."

now, you're right beside him.

your head snaps towards where you were once standing, bringing a hand to your mouth when you notice sanji's arm wrapped around the shoulders of a groggy green haired swordsman. the two men don't have time to focus their attention on law, instead turning their anger towards one another as they began to exchange heated blows.

now in your own private corner of the ship, you give law an incredulous look. "law..." you say with some caution. "what was that about?"

he says your name, sharp and direct. "you need to snap out of it."

your brows furrow, arms crossing over your chest. you struggled to connect the dots and understand what he was referring to. the surgeon wasn't exactly the most open when it came to matters of the heart, so it didn't cross your mind that he'd be referring to anything of that nature.

"snap out of it?" you echo back, head tilting. "what're you talking about?"

that perverted chef. he thinks to himself, masking away any hints of displeasure by rolling his eyes and giving you his signature indifferent, observing expression. he'll fall for anything with two legs and a pretty face. just wait for this to all blow over and then i can take care of you how you want me to.

he can't tell you all that though, so he coolly manipulates his words and frames his concern in a more rational light. his tattooed fingers curl around your chin, squeezing lightly as he turned your face back towards the cook. he can't let it show, but he savors the feel of your soft skin under his fingers.

your eyes widen when you see sanji swooning over nami, pulling all the same lines and offering her her favorite dishes. you can feel your cheeks get warm as a sense of clarity runs through you, realizing that maybe you were a little too naive when it came to these things.

but at least you have a captain you can trust to steer you in the right direction, right?

"distractions." he says, simple and to the point, not giving you room to consider any ulterior motives he might have. "we're here for a reason, understand? don't forget what's at stake here."

he lets go of your chin and waits for your response, already thinking about what he would say if you kept insisting on wasting your time with the cook. luckily, you get the point.

you give him a nod and appreciative smile. "yeah, you're right." your shoulders shrug, your fondness towards your captain growing. "i won't forget. i mean, even though we're in an alliance and all that, we should make sure to take care of each other first, right?"

the surgeon can't help but smirk, satisfied. "bingo."

law has patience. he can wait for the right time to make you his, but until then, he'd make sure no one else got in the way.

taglist: @dimplewonie

[agustdiv1ne]

♫⋆｡`♪ ₊ﾟ.11:01 p.m. (m) — choi yeonjun

genre: smսt, bratty sub!yeonjun, rockstar!yeonjun, dom!fem!reader, yj wears a collar at all times bc i said so, light petplay (he gets called pup, but nothing further than that) <3

wc: 2.9k

yeonjun's little secret is hidden in plain sight.

his skeleton in the closet is encapsulated by a simple piece of leather wrapped around his throat — it's something that he nearly always has on, whether it be promotional photos, meet and greets, or concerts. his fans have spotted it on him when he's out partying, perusing festivals, even while he's simply out and about. sometimes, he even attaches a longer piece to it, wraps it around his wrist like a leash, and yet everyone always dismisses it as some sort of social commentary (he's honestly seen enough think pieces on twitter to last a lifetime). and when someone asks about it? he brushes it off and smoothly changes the subject.

because it's not just a plain old choker, or a collar worn to criticize an oppressive social regime — no, it is yeonjun's indirect way of telling the world that he belongs to you.

indeed, you, the pretty little girlfriend of tomorrow by together's famous drummer, have more power over him than anyone else. he's yours to keep in line, yours to ruin — yours to own, wholly and completely. sure, you keep your relationship with him fairly private, but the collar is your own way of staking claim on the man that is desired by everyone. what can you say? you’re a little territorial.

and maybe it makes your sex life just a bit more exciting.

yeonjun slams his sticks down on his drumset’s cymbals one final time before he’s ripping his in-ears out in order to hear the crowd. their screams heighten the adrenaline racing through his veins, his heart pounding against his ribcage so hard he thinks that it might burst from his chest. slick sweat shines against his bare, tanned skin under the blazing stage lights that illuminate him and the rest of the band. they blind the crowd from his eyes, but he can still hear the frenzied screams of “i love you!” and “fuck me please!” and the cries that beg them to continue the show — he eats it up, basks in the untouchable feeling as he stands on his chair and dramatically bows to his fans. hopping down to join the rest of his members at the front of the stage, they give their wild fans one last goodbye as the platform they stand upon begins to lower below the stage, each of them waving to fans. before he is fully off stage and the mic in his hand cuts off, he allows one last bellow of “thank you, chicago! good night!”

impatiently, he mumbles a quick “good job” to the other guys before he’s leaping off the moving platform, removing the stage gear that is strapped to his torso beneath his tank top and tossing it to the floor with little abandon. the staff can pick it up for him later, because all he can think about is finding you right now; he’s excited to hear what you think, always a glutton for your praises. 

frantic eyes scan the crowded backstage area, trying to spot you amongst the sea of staff. his steps grow faster when he realizes you’re nowhere to be found, his heart racing for entirely different reason now. where are you? are you in his dressing room? are you fucking hiding from him? 

“jjunie!”

his head whips around in a flash at the familiar call of his name, watching as you slink over to him in the most mouthwatering outfit he’s ever seen. your skintight black shirt leaves little to the imagination, with plunging cutouts that show off the curvature of your breasts and leave your navel bare, tucked into what can barely be called a mini skirt due to how little it covers. your eyes shine as you stare up at him, hands reaching up to cup his jaw before you pull him into a messy kiss full of teeth and tongue and passion, ignoring the chaos that whirls around your bodies. he moves down to trail his lips down your neck, but you stop him with a single finger slipping under his collar at the back of his neck, pulling him back by it. the feeling lights a fire within him.

“easy there, tiger,” you laugh, smirking as you meet his kohl-lined eyes. “we’re in public.”

“but baby,” he whines, hands wandering down to your ass, slipping under your skirt, and delivering a hard squeeze to the bare flesh. “need you s’bad.”

your tongue subconsciously runs over your front teeth while you watch his once clear eyes grow all hazy and hooded. brushing a thumb over his plump lips, you murmur, “so needy already, hm?” he nods, and you bite back a cruel comment. “then how about we go to your dressing room, pup?” 

yeonjun feels the fire inside his stomach roar to life at the pet name, no longer just a tiny flame, but something all-consuming and desperate. the next few seconds pass as a blur as he makes a beeline towards his room, adorned with a star and his name. the door slams behind you, your back pressed to the wood soon after as he cages you in, his lips crashing against yours with fervor. he brazenly gropes at your exposed flesh, his already hardened cock pressing against your thigh through his jeans. he’s getting too bold, isn’t allowing you to lead — and you’re becoming annoyed.

your fingers find the thin strip of leather around his throat once more, pulling harder this time. he chokes at the feeling, fingers pressing deeper into your flesh, refusing to move as he diverts his attention back to your neck again. annoyance brews into a bubbling anger, your fingers leaving the collar to twist in his hair and yank. a yelp sounds from his throat at the tingly pain branching across his scalp.

“already forgetting who’s in charge, pup?” you grit out, pulling harder all the while. he releases a shaky breath, but doesn’t move to give you an answer. scoffing, your gaze sharpens. “get on your knees.”

“no,” he replies, defiance coloring his tone and expression. “i don’t wanna.”

you use your free hand to grip his chin. “don’t you want to cum tonight?”

“obviously,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

squeezing his chin, your vision spots red, and you seethe, “then get on your fucking knees.”

he gives you a similar response as before. while yeonjun is usually obedient, there are times where he becomes too greedy, too bold in trying to steal the reins from you unrelenting hands — it seems tonight is one of those nights, but you know just how to put him back in his rightful place. he’s too easy, really. 

without warning, you shove him away, stalking over to the other side of the room where your purse lies. you ignore his questions of what you are doing as you dig through the bag, quickly locating what you want: his leash. the black leather is cool against your skin as you wrap it around your hand, the clip held between deft fingers. it matches his collar perfectly; simple yet effective, you surmise. his eyes widen at the sight of you returning to where he stands with it in hand, mouth going dry as he realizes you aren’t in the mood to play tonight. 

yeonjun freezes as the clip loops around the small chain that holds his collar together, biting his lips when you tug, testing the integrity. your expression betrays nothing of your inner thoughts, gaze steely and borderline bored — you refuse to look at him now, moving in silence. he feels a tug from behind now, and it presses the leather against his windpipe for a moment. his cock twitches, and he aches to touch himself, to relieve the unbearable pressure in his pelvis. 

“i was gonna reward you tonight, y’know, for doing so well,” you sigh while you step in front of him again. your calm yet venomous tone sends tingles down his spine and more blood towards his center. you poke at the center of his chest before you continue. “but you decided to be a stupid little brat and not listen. so!”

you’re just being cruel now, but the pathetic furrow of his brow and the pout forming on his lips is the least of your concern at this point. you saunter over to the couch that sits in the middle of the room, bend over right in front of him, and slip your thong down your legs. behind you, he audibly gasps, both of your holes on proud display in front of his eyes. his attempt to surge forward is quickly thwarted, the length of his leash too short to even come close to reaching you, and he turns back to find that you have tied it to the doorknob. he reaches for the knot—

“don’t even try it,” you call. “that isn’t one you know, stupid pup.”

turning back to you, he finds you leaned back on the couch with your legs spread wide, perfectly manicured fingers slowly circling your clit. you emit a quiet moan as you tease yourself, hips rolling up into your fingers to search for more stimulation. gulping, he remains silent, focused on the way your entrance flutters around nothing. 

“i get to touch, you get to watch,” you sigh, pressing harder against your bundle of nerves. “and don’t even think about touching yourself without permission.”

knees weak, he stands there, vision growing hazy around the edges at you prod and tease yourself, working yourself up at a painfully slow pace. he knows you’re doing it on purpose, but his cock is so hard and it’s so painful and he just wants to—

“put your hands back at your sides,” you order, further threats already pouring out of you before he can process the command. “or do you want a worse punishment? want me to go get your bandmates? i’m sure they’d love to fuck me, make you watch with no way to stop them from taking me, have them use me ‘til they’re satisfied— mh, just thinking about that is getting me close.”

across the room, yeonjun feels tears line his eyes. the fingers that have sunken into your entrance should be his. he should be the one between your legs right now, his lips wrapped around your clit and your thighs suffocating him until he’s dizzy on your taste and scent. he should be the one with his cock in you, not anyone else — and especially not his fucking bandmates. falling to his knees, a sob wracks his form, but you’re still not feeling particularly kind. 

“aw, are you crying? you’re such a pathetic little thing, jjunie. can’t even listen to basic fucking orders, but you cry when you don’t get your way?"

the first tears slip down his face when your first orgasm hits you, your legs struggling to remain open as you whimper and whine, exaggerating your moans on purpose. you throw your head back and arch your spine, giving him a better view of your soaked hole as you ride out the waves of pleasure. 

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks streaked with tears and his head hanging low. his fingers dig into the meat of his thighs, but you can catch the shake of his fingers despite his grip. 

of course, you heard him well enough, but you decide to feign ignorance. “what was that, pup? look at me when you speak.”

“i’m sorry!” he shouts, his pupils blown out and blurry with lust. “‘m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please— please let me touch you, wanna make you feel good. i can’t—”

“you’re sorry now?” you interrupt, his head nodding up and down in rapid succession. “huh, i’m not sure if i believe you.” 

“pleaseee!” your boyfriend sobs, disregarding anyone that may stand on the other side of the door, his voice thick and shaky. his collar has been pulled taut against his neck with how desperately he has tried to move towards you; his head is hazy and he can barely think about anything except pleasure, both his and yours. “please please please please—”

his begging continues as you rise from the cushions. you ignore the slight quake of your limbs, now leering over him while he stares back up at you, his shiny, swollen lips parted to allow soft pants to escape. crimson stains his cheeks and spreads down his neck, black streaks of ruined eyeliner mixing with it — an absolute painting.

extending a foot, you press the heel of your shoe against his erection. his jolts, a drawn-out whimper escaping him. your lips form a condescending pout as you press a little harder. “poor pup. so sensitive. so pathetic.”

“‘m not pathetic,” he whispers. with a single eyebrow raised and your head titled to the side, you crouch down to his level, gently gripping his chin.

“no?” you question softly. “then why are you so hard just from me degrading you?”

“‘m sorry, can’t— can’t help it.”

“aw, i know, baby.” you reach up to run your hand through his dusty rose hair, removing a few sweat-slicked strands from his forehead. “i’m gonna untie you. i want you to go sit on the couch, and take your pants and boxers off for me, okay?”

“m’kay.” 

he does as promised once you untie the knot. he even went one step further and removed his tank top, his cock pressed against his abdomen, the entire shaft an angry red, his veins more pronounced than usual. precum beads at his tip, dribbling over the side of his cock. obediently, his hands lay at his sides against the cushions. his fingers curl as you undress.

you move to straddle his lap, cupping his face in your palms. “i’m gonna put it in, pup. you're gonna be good, right?”

he nods before he inhales sharply, your fingers touching him where he needs you most. you guide his leaky cock to your entrance with one hand, biting your lip as you begin to sink down on him. the stretch causes your head to spin and your walls to flutter around him. he whines. “don’t, ngh, don’t do that.”

“what? this?” you ask as you purposefully clench your walls. his whimper morphs into a shout when you sink down fully, taking him to the hilt and staying there. his dick presses against the spongy spot deep inside you, stretches your walls perfectly. your pussy was made to take him, just as he was made to listen to you. 

the rhythmic grinding of your hips is enough to have him crying out, tears flowing down his face once again. you lean down to kiss them away, hands finding his and pressing them against the cushion on either side of his head. sighing in delight, you begin to fuck him faster, bouncing up and down on his cock. his mouth is frozen in a permanant ‘o,’ head thrown back while he bucks up into you.

“feel so good inside me, jjunie. so big,” you moan. he twitches inside you at the words, which spurs you to keep going. “such a dumb little thing, just need my pussy and you’re gone? have to have me think for you? so— fuck, so cute. you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“y-yes! all yours, ‘m only yours!” he replies. you smile at the admission, releasing one hand to pull at his collar. his thighs begin to quake below you, muscles contracting and relaxing sporadically. you lean in to kiss him and swallow his loud moans, holding him close by the strip of leather. power paired with pleasure surges through your veins, pleased at his ruined state. you smile against his mouth. 

“rub my clit,” you encourage, feeling his thumb move like lightning to the little bud, his sloppy circles causing your rhythm to falter. “i’m gonna cum, jjunie. want you to cum inside— fill me up, pup. don’t you want that too?”

“yes! yesyesyesyes-” he rambles and rambles until you feel him spill inside you, ropes of cum painting your walls and triggering your own orgasm, his cock pulsing inside you as he continues to cum. your walls flutter as you ride out your high, your fingers moving to press his face against your breasts. he kisses and sucks at the flesh between high-pitched whines until you finally come down, the pulsing of your walls ceasing. slowly, you lift yourself off him, ignoring how his seed spills from your hole and onto the couch. with one final peck to his lips, you adjust his collar and sit next to him, pulling him into an embrace and allowing him to bury his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“did so good for me, jjunie. i’m so proud of you,” you murmur against his hair, rubbing soothing circles against his back. you gently rock him back and forth with you, making sure that he’s comfortable. “do you need anything, baby?”

“nuh-uh,” he says, voice vibrating against your skin. “just wanna be held.”

with a fond smile, you nod to yourself and squeeze him a little tighter.

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[peachdues]

I’m getting slammed at work rn and I’m going on a mini-vacation later this week, so don’t have a ton of time to write. In the meantime, enjoy a small peek at Part II of The Great War

First, he took her shopping.

The idea had been to give her whatever she needed, having little in the way of possessions. Giyuu insisted she get whatever she wanted and not to concern herself with cost.

Easier said than done.

Not once in the more than one year he’d known her, had Giyuu ever seen Y/N shy. Yet, as they browsed the small stalls lining the lively street market, or turned about the tailor shops boasting an array of exquisite silk kimonos and fabrics, his fiance remained remarkably subdued. And though he’d insisted she pick out whatever caught her eye, Y/N stayed quiet.

He knew it was likely she was overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of it all, and so, as they left their third shop empty-handed, Giyuu resolved to make the trip as easy as possible for her.

Anything she touched — anything she lingered on for more than a moment, he purchased.

No matter how she tried to dissuade him.

“Giyuu, this is far too much —“

“I have the means,” he replied simply, nodding at the shopkeeper who’d presented them a rather extravagant hair comb that had made his beloved’s eyes go wide. “More than I know what to do with, actually.”

“These are your earnings! You should spend them on yourself — purchase something you desire.”

“Everything I desire is currently standing beside me, protesting how I choose to spoil her.” And Giyuu flashed her a small smile meant only for her eyes before he returned to his casual perusal of fine baubles laid out before him. “There is nothing more I could want.”

—

BONUS!

Giyuu pressed his lips to the Miko’s ear and his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Wear that later.”

wants her to put it on so he can take it off yk (or fuck her in it)