#i work with minimal content here

[wearebackbagels]

Pirate/old timey au? who knows.

To celebrate le weekend!

(why does this man look so disapointed in every picture I find of him?)

I have no fucking idea what this became and I know these aren’t even from the same era but the pictures just rolled in and sudenly this post was made.

Actors and media.

Connor Swindells --- Emma (2020)

Jack O’Connell --- The North Water (2021)

César Domboy --- Outlander (2014 -)

Paul Boche --- ()

Tom Glynn-Carney --- Tolkien (2019)

Tom Hygreck --- La Garçonne (2020)

Alfie Allen --- Harlots (2017 - 2019)

Jacob Ifan --- A Discovery of Witches (2018 - 2022)

[quackle]

nichelle ladonna. biggest caleb hater of all time. queen of side eye. she's what the culture feelin

[fireinanhourglass]

god help me, i'm thinking about making a substack

[buckyalpine]

Bucky comfort. What I need like air right now is a sweet, chubby baker Bucky who notices his bunny is down. She doesn't say anything out of the ordinary when she comes to visit the bakery, kissing his soft scruffy cheek before taking a seat at the booth with a fresh Danish he made.

Cherry, because that's her favorite.

He can tell something is off when her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes and she's curled up in his hoodie quietly nibbling on the pastry instead of clinging onto him like she usually does.

He doesn't like it. Not one bit.

He loves when his girl hugs his thick waist tightly from behind while his works at the dough and rolls out croissants. Her little hands usually knead at the fluff around his belly. Instead she seems to be in her own world, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pushing herself further into her seat to hide from the rest of world. You tell him you have to run a few errands and he doesn't miss your steamy eyes and small voice as you scurry off out of the bakery and it just adds to his worry.

Bucky was having none of that.

He lets Sam and Steve take over a couple of his orders, cleaning off and deciding to go straight home to you instead, he knows you don't actually have errands to do, he always makes sure to take care of them anyway. When he arrives back home, he isn't surprised to see your smaller form curled in a ball on the couch, eyes wide, surprised to see him.

"Bucky?" the quiver in your voice gives away that you'd been crying moments earlier.

"C'mere baby bunny" Bucky cooed, scooping you up in his beefy arms, and cradling your body to his, holding you to his chest while you nuzzle into his neck. "Wanna tell me what's going on in that little head of yours" He whispered against your hair, stroking it while you pull back, giving him a shrug. He knows you don't always want to talk about it but he's going to do what he can to make you feel better

"I'm not sure" You say with a sigh, your mind still running around a thousand miles a minute. Nothing particularly bad happened but one thought led to another; questioning if you were happy with your job, if you were happy with where you were in life, if you were someone Bucky would actually even want to be with, someone so sweet and loving and handsome like him, all your friends seemed to have found their footing and you were still here so unsure-

"Shhh" he kissed your forehead as if he could hear your insecurities screaming at you from inside your head. "What do you need sweet girl" His lips brush against the top of your head, breathing in your soft scent of peach body wash and vanilla lotion. He has you perfectly tucked into his much larger form, as if he were trying to protect his baby bunny from the rest of the world.

"Cuddles?" You cling onto him, sighing contently when he shifts so he can wrap you up in his arms while you bury your face into his chest. Everything about him is so comforting, if you could find a way to burrow yourself into him, you would. Your wiggling and shifting to get even closer makes Bucky chuckle, cooing at the whine you let out when he pulls away.

"Not going anywhere bunny, just getting us more comfortable" You're not sure how he does it but with minimal effort and movement he's helped you strip off all your clothes along with his, tossing the fluffy throw to cover you both up. You love feeling his bare skin against yours, practically purring now that you can feel every bit of him.

The rumble of your stomach doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky and he makes sure to wrap you up in a blanket burrito before getting up and padding over to the kitchen.

"Where are you going now" You pout and he cups your face with the gentlest touch.

"You're hungry bub, I'm just getting a snacky" and with that he walks off, grinning at the giggle you let out watching his perfectly perky ass saunter off.

"Yummyy" You wiggle happily from under your blanket at both the sight of you very pretty, very naked boyfriend carrying in a plate of more Danishes and a bunch of other pastries and fruit he grabbed on the way out when he left the bakery.

Bucky adores seeing you like this, setting down the snacks so he can hold you again when you give him grabby arms. He doesn't let you lift a fingers, feeding you another Danish, kissing the crumbs that clung onto your lips. He runs you a bath next. His bunny doesn't feel like moving much so he's happy to carry you there while you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear.

By the end of the night he loves seeing the light return to your eyes, your soft giggles when he has you perched on the bathroom counter doing your skin care routine with him.

"Keep your little paws to yourself, doll" Bucky swats away your hands when you reach for the lotion, taking over the job for himself. He's more than happy to massage up and down your calves to your thighs. He massages all the knots out of your back and shoulders before carrying you off to bed again for more cuddles and kisses.

Anyway, this was sitting in the drafts for weeds and it's still what I need rn.

[pathologicalreid]

missed calls | s.r.

in which Spencer answers Hotch's daughter's phone when he calls to check in after a case

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: hotchner!reader, minimal case information, spencer's pov word count: 741 a/n: yooo this is the shortest margotober fic!! but it's so wholesome that i couldn't pick anything else 😭

Your nose whistled with every exhale, with every page he turned, Spencer looked down at your sleeping form to make sure he wasn’t disturbing you. He ignored the buzzing of your phone, Hotch told everyone not to come in until the briefing at ten, so the buzzing wasn’t something he’d concern himself with. He’d rather you catch up on sleep.

Turning the next page, he moved his hand down and swept some hair from your face, freezing when you stirred. He kept his eyes on you, making sure you didn’t fully wake up before he returned to his book.

Last week, a case had gone wrong, and you ended up at the center of it. Physically, you were unharmed, but the way the case went down took a toll on you mentally. You tried to accept the blame, but no one else would allow you to be blamed.

It had been keeping you up at night, thinking you could’ve done something differently that would’ve led to a different outcome. You would stare at the ceiling for all hours of the morning until either your alarm went off or you physically couldn’t keep your eyes open. Sleep deprivation in the field was dangerous, Spencer knew that from personal experience.

So, when the two of you came home from work, decided to decompress on the couch and you fell asleep with your head in his lap, he resolved himself to a night on the couch. If he had to suffer a stiff neck in the morning, he’d get through it just so you can get the rest you so desperately need.

Looking back over at your phone as it rang again, he adjusted the blanket that you had thrown over yourself before finally picking up the phone. He hummed at the screen, your dad was calling you, three times in the last ten minutes.

Spencer looked down at you, your hands folded beneath your head as you dreamt, and he couldn’t get himself to wake you. It felt cruel to wake you when this is the first time you’ve fallen asleep naturally in days, so instead of having you answer the phone, he clicks the green icon and answers the call himself.

“Hey, Hotch,” he greeted, keeping his voice low so that he wouldn’t ruin his own plan and wake you up.

Your father is silent on the other line for a moment, probably checking his screen to double check which number he had called, “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, a hint of fatherly concern laced in his tone.

Watching you sleep, Spencer looked at you as he responded, “She’s right here, she’s asleep.”

Hotch was silent on the other end of the call; he was more than aware of your sleeping problems. Just yesterday, he had pulled Spencer into his office to ask him what was going on with you, which clued Spencer into the fact that you were messing up at work. Little things like missing a checkbox on paperwork and forgetting files on your desk when you were supposed to be in the roundtable room.

Spencer gently cleared his throat, “Did you need to talk to her?” It was a leading question, Spencer was providing the answer on a silver platter, nearly begging your father to just let you sleep.

“No,” Hotch answered quickly, practically scrambling to get the answer out. “No, don’t wake her,” he iterated, “Just, uh… will you tell her I called?”

Nodding even though he couldn’t see, Spencer responded, “Yeah, I’ll tell her in the morning.”

Your dad was quiet for a moment before he spoke up again, “Reid?”

“Yes, sir?” He answered dutifully, his voice just hovering over a whisper as you adjusted in your sleep.

“Thank you,” he responded, matching Spencer’s quiet tone over the phone, likely because Jack was already asleep for the night. “For watching over her,” he continued, clarifying why exactly he was expressing gratitude.

Spencer gently smoothed your hair back, personally grateful to see peace on your face as you slept. “It’s my pleasure,” he whispered in response.

Your dad cleared his throat, “Have a good night, Reid.”

“You as well,” Spencer moved the phone, ending the call before returning it to its place on the side table. Unable to reach you, he pressed two of his fingers to his lips before resting them on your temple, effectively kissing you goodnight before he lifted his book and went back to reading.

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #7 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Toji stood in the empty living room, the light illuminating from the television as it played some random show that you were watching before he came. It’s been so long since the last time he was here, at least that’s what it felt like. Nothing really changed for the most part, still the same decor, the layout still the same. He couldn’t help but notice the set of fresh roses that sat on your dining room table, paired with a detailed glass vase. He already had his guesses on who gave them to you.

Toji looked over his shoulder towards the corridor that led to the bedrooms, you were still busy helping Naya wash up. He walked over to the table, fingertips gently touching the delicate petals. There was still regret and jealously that bubbled in Toji’s chest. When it came to you, he was selfish, never thought in a million years he’d lose you once he had you. That was his problem. With each longing look at the roses, it reminded him of when he did have you, the beginning of things. He used to buy you flowers just for the hell of it, buy you small trinkets he knew you’d like, addicted to your smile when he’d handed them to you. But like almost everything in this world, things fall apart.

Those moments turned into him coming home while you were in the kitchen, eating dinner with Naya and Megumi, not even glancing your way. Not a word to you or his kids all because of an argument you had before he left for work that morning. Of course he regrets it all now, when it’s too late for something to be done and said. It’s cliche, but it was true.

His eyes flickered towards the small card by the roses, his jaw clenched as he grabbed it, slowly opening it to read:

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman — Kento

“Hey.” The sound of your voice snapped Toji out of his thoughts, quickly placing the card down and facing you. “The kids are, uh, asleep.” You nodded.

“Should we talk here or?” Toji cleared his throat, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

“Bedroom should be fine.” As you walked down the corridor, Toji followed behind you. There was still that picture of you and the kids on the wall, the one that he took when you all went to the water park. It was a bittersweet moment, but he’s glad that you still had it up despite the memory that came with it.

He shut the bedroom door behind him as you stood in the middle of the room. “So, you wanted to talk about the kids and us?”

“Yeah, I just want us to find a level placement where we can co-parent healthily. You know…where we don’t fight and argue every time we talk to each other,” you explained with a slight chuckle. “I just want better communication. Like if you can’t or can take the kids, if you’ll be going to their school events or something.” You fiddled with your hands.

Toji stared at you even while you avoided eye content with him. He took notice you how you played with your hands too, something you always did when you were anxious, thinking about things. He could tell something else was on your mind. Something else was on his mind too.

“What I’m saying is, I just think we should strictly keep communication minimal. Just about our kids. What we do with our personal lives should be kept private unless it involves Naya and Megs somehow.” You inhaled, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Toji’s brows furrowed at your statement. “Isn’t that what we have been doing?” He questioned, leaning against your wall.

“Despite what you might think, no. And to be honest, I know that you know that not what we’ve doing, Toji,” you scoff.

“If this is about what’s been going on the last few months, I apologize,” he spoke.

“It’s,” you sigh, “it’s more than that. Ever since the divorce, we never acted divorced.”

“You mean how we were still sleeping together,” he bluntly said.

You rolled your eyes at how honest he was, but you should know by now that he was no different from when you first met him. “Yes,” you answered.

“We haven’t slept together in months—”

“And about the unresolved feelings that we still hold for each other. That needs to stop. All of it,” You interrupt.

Toji was at a loss for words, staring at you, and finally for the first time in this conversation, you locked eyes with him. “You’re really taking this guy seriously, huh?”

You sigh, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “He’s a good guy, Toji.”

“I never said he wasn’t.” He shrugged, standing up straight.

“Okay, but you’re acting weird about it. Why can’t you accept that I’ve moved on? You should do the same.” You stood upright. “Me and you,” you gestured between you and Toji, “it won’t work out.”

Toji knew in the back of his head that you were right, but to hear those words out loud felt like a knife to the heart. Both of you stood in silence. All kinds of thoughts were running through his head, every single of them screaming at him to say something, to try and get you to change your mind. He doesn’t want to argue or fight, not anymore, so he holds his thoughts and feelings back even if it does hurt.

Say something. Don’t. Say it. Just keep quiet. Tell her.

“I’ve tried to move on just so you know. I’ve really tried, y/n.” And there it goes. There goes the words spilling out of his mouth despite what may come next. He just needs you to hear him just this one last time. He doesn’t care if it doesn’t change a thing between you two, he needs you to know regardless. “Trying to get with different woman, having sex, drinking, pretending to be who I was before I met you. But where did I end up each time? Right back to you, right back in your bed, in your home, holding you, kissing you, regretting everything bad I’ve ever done to you, to our kids.”

“Toji—”

“We were together for 10 years, married for 8 . As soon as you told me you were pregnant with Megs, I knew right then I wanted to make you my wife, to build a bigger family with you, to do right by you and our kids. I can’t just throw all that away, all those memories. Even the bad ones. You changed me, made me want to be better. No other woman has done that but you.” Toji walked closer towards you. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor, incapable of moving.

“Then why did you treat me that way?” Your voice slightly broke as you held back tears. “Like you were beginning to hate me, to hate us.” The thought made you clench your eyes shut as a frown formed on your lips. You hated to remember. Your should began to shake as a sob racked through your body. “You don’t understand how that made me feel,” you whimpered.

Toji looked at you with soft eyes. “I never hated you or the kids, not a fucking second. That thought would never even cross my mind. Hate the woman who brought me the most beautiful thing life can bring you? Hate them? Even though they can be a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. You laughed along with him, nodding in agreement. “Look at me, mama.” Toji lifted your chin, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “I can never hate you or our kids. Tell me that you understand that.”

“I understand.” You sniffled.

“I know the way I started treating you and our family towards the end is what caused everything to fall apart. I don’t know why I did what I did. Arguing with you over stupid shit, acting like a fucking asshole, not being there when I should’ve. You had every right to leave. It’s my own fault that I didn’t realize what I had before it was gone. I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. You’re an amazing woman, a beautiful person, a wonderful mother. You were everything I could ever ask for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were any less than that.” He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly while you cried into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

For the first time in years, you and Toji had a conversation without it turning into a heated argument. It was like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders, like you could finally take a deep breath of fresh air. Toji just held you while you cried it out, rubbing your back gently. Though it hurts, he’s glad he was able to tell you, to apologize. “Mama, you deserve to move on and be happy. It’ll hurt like hell for me, but that’s what I deserve for what I did. My karma. I’ll level with you, I’ll do what you want.”

You pulled away from him, teary eyes staring up into his. “You mean it?”

Without hesitation he replied, “of course.” If it wasn’t painfully obvious already, Toji was still in love with you. How could he not be? He’ll miss you, miss the times you spent together. He wishes he could make up for all those bad times, replace those memories with good ones.

“Thank you, Toji.” You softly smiled.

“Dont thank me. It’s the least I could do.” He held onto your hand, his warm touch lingering on your skin before he pulled it away. “I’ll see you around, y/n.” Before he said anything else, he needed to walk away. Opening your bedroom door, he disappeared from your sight down the hall. You bit down on your bottom lip, brows furrowed as you sat there and began to process everything that happened.

Toji sat in his car outside your house. “Fuck,” he sighed. It should be him. You and him. He should be buying you flowers, kissing your soft lips, holding you tight, making love to you, telling you he loves you. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as looked at your front door. In front of him, a familiar car pulled into your driveway. Toji sat and watched closely, noticing it was the man he caught a glimpse of in your house, your new boyfriend, Kento. As he walked up the steps, you opened the door for him before he knocked, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his lips with a smile. His hands were on your waist as he kissed you back, pulling you closer towards him.

Toji tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him, jaw clenched as he started his car. You were his karma and the woman he was in love with.

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @olanii1019 @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: bf!jungkook, mentions of him accidentally elbowing you, afab reader, smut, way too much kissing, this is just pwp, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1403

a/n: i know i mostly write svt but i decided to start writing for jungkook too!! :D i hope u guys enjoy<3

masterlist

"ow!"

"oh, fuck, baby, i'm sorry! where did i hit you?", jungkook frantically turned around upon realizing his elbow had made contact with something – with that something being you.

"it's fine, kook. i should've announced my presence," you said as you rubbed the boob that had just been struck by his elbow.

it was quite early in the morning, and you'd found your boyfriend not in bed when you woke up. getting up, you sleepily made your way to your kitchen only to find your equally sleepy boyfriend's back facing you as he worked the oven.

"sorry, baby. i just woke up, i wasnt expecting you here so early- give me just one second," he turned around to turn off the oven he had just been using, turning back around to tend to you afterwards.

"lemme see where i hit you," his eyes showed genuine remorse at the minimal accident.

"it's was just my boob, baby, it's fine."

"oh," he halted for a moment, "let me see?", his eyes went down to where your hand was currently rubbing at your breast, having had the hardest part of his elbow unfortunately bump harshly against your nipple.

"jungkook-"

"let me kiss it better?", he asked, tone now a bit heavier.

"'kiss it'?"

he nodded silently, hands already reaching to the ends of your shirt, awaiting for permission to lift it up. when you didn't stop him, simply too freshly awake and dumbfounded to process what he was doing, he continued, allowing his hands to push up your shirt and leave it lying above your breasts.

your nipples were hard due to the impact, chest heaving a bit at jungkook's sudden shift in behavior.

a hand went up to your breast, inspecting it before the thumb gently passed over your nipple.

"here? is there where it hurts, baby?", he asked with a slightly patronizing tone in his voice.

it always rendered you speechless when he did this, when the mood struck and he decided to speak to you so dumbly, as if you needed a step by step through these interactions. it served specially well in the mornings, when you weren't fully yourself yet.

you nodded, eyes staring right at his with your mouth slightly agape.

"oh, pretty. look, it's all hard and swollen. poor baby ... let me kiss it? hmm? gonna kiss it all better ..." he murmured as his head dipped, tongue landing on your nipple.

he hmph'd, groaning against your breast while his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you as close to him as possible. he laved over your sensitive tit, becoming more agitated by the second as he continued to make out with your breast. being so early, you were extra sensitive, letting out breathy moans at how expertly he suckled at your tit.

taking turns, he lavished your tits with saliva, leaving a few marks here and there as he continued to make love to your breasts. his moans of appreciation were the loudest thing in the room. on occasion, he would nuzzle against your tits, using his hands to press them together against his face before bringing them back to your waist.

he finally pulled away, one last nibble pulling at your nipple before disconnecting completely, chuckling at the whine you let out at the slight pain from it.

"is that better?", he whispered, lips now far too close to your own.

looking up at him, mind clouded, you nodded numbly, eyes straying down to his lips. he chuckled at your clear want, dipping down to finally kiss you, landing a wet and languid kiss against your lips.

"pretty ... so fucking pretty in the mornings," he murmured, repositioning you so he could crowd you against the counter, lifting you slightly so you could sit on it, his body now between your legs.

"kookie ..." you sighed when his lips trailed down your throat, hands making their way to your shirt, which he was yet to fully remove, throwing it off before doing the same to his own.

your hands instantly when to feel up and down his toned torso, making him sigh against your ear as his own hands felt you up.

eventually his hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling them as close to the edge of the counter in order to make them meet his own. his own hips began to cant against your own, holding you in place so he could grind against you to his heart's contentment.

the only separation between you were his boxers and your panties, making the grind of his cock against your cunt feel extra delicious.

"so fucking needy for me," he groaned before making his way back to your lips, hips sensually seeking out your own.

your nails dug into his shoulders at the friction, making you open your mouth in a gasp. jungkook took free advantage of this, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue while his hips took everything they wanted from your own.

but then he got frustrated, as he usually did.

dry humping was one of jungkook's favorite activities. he'd engage with it in the most innocent of scenarios. all he needed was you and a surface and he'd find himself licking into your mouth as he dragged his cock against your cunt. however, this would only ever last for so long. he'd always grow far too hungry for you to not fuck you.

he halted his movements for a few seconds in favor of lowering his boxers, also aiding you in lifting your hips to lower your own panties. it was all hasty in nature, with jungkook barely even preparing you with his fingers for a few moments before slipping in, groaning at the way you enveloped him so easily.

jungkook loved you in the mornings. having wanted to check if he had hurt you this morning had just been the perfect excuse to initiate morning sex with you. he had woken up too early, opting to make breakfast for you rather than wake up in your arms and have his way with you. this, however, gave him the perfect compromise.

"m-more," you whined into his neck, kissing at it as his hips began to take a rhythm.

"so fucking pretty and soft in the mornings, angel," he mumbled, hips taking on a deep yet sensual grind against you.

he never liked to go fast and hard in the mornings, always opting to be as soft as he could. he adored these domestic moments, knowing that no one could ever recreate how naturally you'd seek pleasure from each other.

however, it did come with a downside.

as sensitive as you were in the mornings, so was jungkook.

there was something about having just woken up, still smelling like the warmth between the sheets and in a completely natural state. all his senses were heightened, and his love for you was always through the roof at this time.

he whined and huffed against your neck, eyes rolling back slightly at how you'd tighten around him. your own pretty moans of his name did not help matters at all, making his hips begin rutting uncontrollably against your own as his orgasm approached.

"gonna cum for me, pretty?"

"m-mhm!," you whined, lips making their way to his.

god, how he loved kissing you as he came. it was the most intimate thing he could ever do, swallowing your cries of his name into his lips as you trembled against him, arms shaky as they attempted to use him as support while your orgasm took over.

"k-kookie! fuck ... cum? cum with me? please, need- shit. please ..."

and how could he not cum immediately when you begged so prettily for him? when you were the softest thing he had ever held in his arms? when you had been so pliant and obedient under his fake vice to kiss your injury better?

he came with a groan against your lips, moaning your name in breathy sighs as you milked him dry, taking all of him like you always did.

you heaved against each other for some moments as you caught your breaths, you groaning slightly at the mess left behind when jungkook finally pulled out of you.

"'kiss it better,' huh?" you eyed him in mock judgment.

"you feel better, don't you?", he snorted, doing a messy job of cleaning you up with some kitchen towels.

"shut up and finish making breakfast."

[s1m0nth3swag]

Hmmm I’m kinda curious on how Francis would be like as a dom in bed!

Ohhhh definitely!

I feel like Francis def is too tired to dom most times, but omg, when he isn't tired for once....

This was uhm

Harder to write than I thought! It probably really isn't good so I slapped some headcanons at the end to make up for it a little

Tysm for the ask though, Anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with minimal plot, established relationship, GN!Reader, Dom Francis, Francis has vacation and uses it properly

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

If you were serious, you barely know how you ended up in this situation. You started today thinking it'd be just like any other day, your boyfriend coming home really late from work, so you'd have the apartment to yourself until he returned. Contrary to that belief, Francis had instead taken a day of vacation. He had grumbled something about it being long overdue.

From then, you had thought he'd lounge around all day. He'd probably just sleep a bit more, lay on the couch, maybe help out a little with chores - that's where you were wrong again.

Once the two of you had finished the chores around the small apartment, he grabbed you by the hips harshly. "Francis -" you yelped out, but he already pressed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. If it was up to him, he'd have you right here, in the middle of the hallway. That's just the way Francis was, when he did have the drive to fuck you, he'd barely even think about where.

In the end, you were the one to drag him to the bedroom after he had already pulled off your top and discarded it somewhere. He trailed kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, nipping at the skin softly. "Want you s'bad..." He groaned, grinding his growing erection against your crotch. "Bet you want me too, hm? Can feel how needy you are." He adds, chuckling as he rubs small circles on your waist. You huff and pull him down towards you, kissing him feverishly.

The rest of your clothes are soon discarded - Francis rarely took his time with you. He watched the way you squirmed and whined as he slowly pushed inside you, though. He knew you just wanted to feel him. When it came to teasing, Francis had probably won a gold metal in it at some point. "So good for me, hm? It's always so tight..." he sighs lazily. His hands rest at your hips, pushing you down so you can't grind against him. You whine in protest. "Francis, please.. don't be mean.." You mumble, and he just chuckles as he presses a kiss against your cheek. "Just taking my time, love.. weren't you just complaining about me being too fast?" You scowl at him, but Francis just grins as he keeps pushing into you ever so slowly. Surely, this had to be torture for him as well? If it was, he didn't let it show one bit.

After taking his sweet time, Francis made it up to you by being way too goddamn rough. He practically abused your hole while muttering and groaning praises into your ear. You desperately held onto him, nails scratching his back. "So good, hm..? God, swear you feel heavenly..." Francis groaned into your ear, trailing kisses over your jaw. He placed hickeys and bite marks all over your neck, and you were sure with how he was treating you right now that a few on your thighs would follow soon.

As always, Francis couldn't help but finish inside you after you had reached your climax as well. He watched your slightly fucked out expression and the way his cum slowly flowed out of you, leaving kisses on your thighs, marking you up just like you thought he would. "Always so good for me, baby." He then hummed, placing a soft kiss against your lips while you snuggled against him.

I just really think Francis is a tired man and therefore rarely doms. Just takes too much of his energy.

However, I think he really really loves marking his partner. Like full-on hickeys all over your body, especially your thighs, though (he definitely is a thigh guy). Also very big on praising, though he would degrade you if you asked him to. I just think that in his mind, it's like "in love with my partner, have to tell them how much I appreciate them, especially when I'm literally taking their ability to walk!" Because I just KNOW he likes being rough. He just can't help but love the way your face contorts in pleasure at every thrust.

Francis would also 100% hold you down so he could have his way with you. He'd also slightly choke you because he holds you down by your neck when he wants to watch your reactions (this is totally not because I think that'd be hot. Nah uh.)

Also, I don't really think he is actually that kinky (or he just doesn't know that what he likes is considered a kink because that man has never spoken to anyone about it). I think he always makes sure you cum first, either makes you cum all over again before properly fucking you or denying you an orgasm as he tests how long he can hold one back himself.

Also, with a fem partner, he is so into eating them out. Genuinely obsessed with it.

With a masc partner, I think he'd be the type to touch them while just watching their expressions

he is so big on watching his partner. He just wants to make sure he's making you feel good still, even though he definitely has your favourite spots memorised by heart.

Anyway! Really short omg I'm sorry. I'm currently obsessing over School Bus Graveyard, so uhm! Not many Francis thoughts in my brain. I hope this isn't as bad as it looks to me (it's definitely worse, but I will not be bothered (I will panic about it))

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: OT8 X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: ALPHAS!OT8, OMEGA!READER, OMEGAVERSE, SEX TOYS, DOUBLE PENETRATION (V AND A), PET NAMES, ARGUING, KNOTTING, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, BREEDING, READER IN HEAT, MULTIPLE SCENTS ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.7K ☾ ━━━ NOTE: this could of been better but i've had zero creative (and no energy in general ) energy and I tried ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n hated that her heat lined up with the full moon. The days leading up to the full moon weren’t terrible but the night of was a different story. 

     The eight alphas knew just by the scent. That heavy, delicious scent that filled the house. To them. It was a pain for Y/n. 

     Her eight alphas were gone most of the day at work while she was home alone, horny and in pain. No one seemed to be answering their phones either. 

     She was rotating between all their numbers throughout the day until Hyunjin finally picked up. 

     “Hey darling, everything okay? Saw you called a few times.”

     “Are you guys busy?” Y/n asked 

     “Yeah. They had us filming a Skz Code. We’ve mostly had our phones off but we just got finished. What’s wrong?”

     “Sorry for spamming all your phones,” Y/n groaned as she curled into herself in her little nest on their bed, “My heat started so —“

     “It did?!” Hyunjin yelled

     She heard a little more commotion on his side of the phone till Seungmin’s voice rang through the speaker, “You’re heat started pup?”

     “Yeah…”

     “Did you make your nest?” Changbins voice came

     “Mhmm. Not enough though,”

     “We’re almost done filming. Can you hang on for just another hour?” Chan asked 

     “I don’t think so…”

     “Sure you can jagiya,” Mingo said

     “Wait, who has the lovense on their phone? Think that would help?” Hyunjin asked

     “We all do,” Jeongin said

     Y/n groaned as she snuggled into the pile of t-shirts, Jisung and Felix’s scents mixing and filling her nose. 

     “Can you grab the toy box, baby?” Chan asked 

     Y/n managed to get up and grab their sex toy collection, “Got it.”

     “Grab the lovense baby,” the oldest instructed

     The omega grabbed the toy and sat back on the bed, in her safe space. “Got it.”

     “Slip it in and turn it on for us baby. We’re on our way home,” Hyunjin said

     Y/n slipped off her bottoms and underwear and tossed them into the hamper. She spread her legs, slick coating her folds making it easy for her to slip to toy in and lay back. “On,” Y/n said 

     “It’s on.”

     Y/n was about to ask him something when the vibrations kicked on. It didn't help her heat issue at all but it did make the time fly by. Before she knew it all eight of her mates were fighting to get to her side. But there wasn't any race when Chan was the fastest in their pack—practically jumping over the rest of them and into Y/n's nest.

     “Didn’t make you wait too long, did we?" Chan asked as he pressed his lips to hers.

     “You did. 'S okay though,” Y/n mumbled against his lips as the rest filled the room, groaning as they saw their leader pressed against their favorite omega.

     “Come on Chan!" Jisung groaned in annoyance.

     “Don’t keep her waiting." Minho interrupted as he made room for himself. The other six followed suit. Making room for all of them somehow. 

     Jeongin pulled out the vibrating toy and tossed it to the floor. Felix had somehow managed to get Chan off her with minimal growling and pushed up her legs. Seungmin sat her up just a bit and pulled off her shirt. Leaving her naked and for them to play with and mark up as they please.

     “Why are you going first?” Changbin whined

     “Got here first,” Felix said as he pushed his pants down and pushed his tip to her aching hole.

     “Actually I got there first,” Chan chimed in

     “But you let Felix get away with everything,” Jisung said

     “Someone just breed me!” Y/n yelled, cutting off any argument, “Don’t care if it’s one or eight, just please!”

     “Can she take all eight of us?” Jeongin asked

     “Let’s not find out,” Hyunjin said, a bit concerned

     “Maybe just two of us at a time,” Chan suggested

     “So who’s in with me,” Felix said as he pushed into her.

     “Fuck,” Y/n groaned, some of the pressure already being relieved.

     “Move over,” Minho said and maneuvered his way under her. The boys helped her sit up as Minho got under her and lined his cock up with her back end. Slowly pushing into her with Felix’s help.

     “Think she could take three,” Seungmin shrugged

     “You’re just desperate to knot her,” Changbin said

     “We all are. Which is why there’s usually a system—” Chan started

     “Fuck that system,” Y/n moaned as both the alpha’s started thrusting into her

     “And she’s desperate to be knotted,” Seungmin argued

     “No one is going to have room once our knots swell,” Felix groaned as he moved in sync with Minho

     “Could you imagine taking two knots in one hole,” Jisung shivered

     “You want to find out?” Jeongin teased

     “Innie,” Y/n moaned

     “She wants your attention Innie,” Jisung teased back

     “Hey pretty pup,” Jeongin leaned down over her. Y/n wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her lips. Moaning into his mouth as the other two alphas moved in and out of her.

     “Pretty thing’s about to cum,” Minho chuckled 

     “Kept her waiting all day. Surprised she hasn’t already,” Seungmin teased

     Y/n gripped onto Jeongin as she clenched around both the alphas inside her. Not being able to hold back her impending high anymore. She practically was shaking as Minho and Felix's knots swelled inside her. Their own orgasms building and building until she felt their cum flood both her entrances. Trapping themselves inside her until their knots deflated. Though she knew from previous experience that it would only be a couple of minutes before they could slip out of her, that felt like an eternity for the six other alphas, desperate to also breed their omega.

     As soon as Felix had pulled out of her, Jeongin rushed to fill the empty spot. Pulling her into him and pulling her off Minho. Changbin maneuvered Jeongin onto his back and slid into the omega. The youngest alpha grabbed hold of her hips as Changbin held onto her waist. 

     Both holding her steady as they rutted into her. Y/n tried holding herself up as best she could but it didn’t last long with the two alphas desperation, knots building and trying to get inside her with each thrust, the scent of the four alphas waiting to breed her, and the two that had their turns but staying to watch. Falling onto Jeongin’s chest just for him to wrap his arms around her and press her closer to him.

     Y/n moaned into the alpha’s chest as both of them pumped themselves in and out until their knots swelled inside her. Her hands grasped Jeongins shoulders, nails leaning crescent marks on his shoulders. Feeling Changbins hands hold her tightly, practically pinning her down onto the second alpha. Two more loads simultaneously spilled into her which riveted her second orgasm. All while she was trapped between two alphas with four more to go.

     The two slowly pulled out of her once their knots deflated. Chan helped her off the youngest and pulled her against his body. “Need a break pup?” Chan asked, planting kisses on her skin.

     “No. More,” Y/n whined, pressing herself into him. Chan laid back into the nest, helped her straddle him, and slipped inside her. Pushing back in the cum that spilled out. Y/n moaned as he pushed in and she got a whiff of a second scent behind her. Immediately knowing it was Seungmin behind her. 

     “Extra needy today?” Seungmin teased as he managed to slip into her second hole. 

     Y/n nodded as Chan grabbed her hips and rocked her back and forth against them. Seungmin kissed her shoulders and helped hold her up, helping the oldest move her against them. 

     Y/n placed her hands on Chan’s chest, missing as Seungmin nipped her shoulders and neck. Their paces slowly picked up till they were no longer moving her and thrusting recklessly into her. Her senses were still in overload with all their scent which sent her spiraling over to another orgasm. Clenching around the two alphas. Both groaned and picked up their pace until their knots were lodged inside her. Filling her with two more loads and making sure they stuck. 

     Y/n could do nothing but moan and milk then as much as she could before that pulled out and eagerly Jisung and Hyunjin filled their spots— briefly arguing on which one of them would get her cunt before Jisung pushed himself in and claimed the hole. Y/n laid on her side with Jisung in front of her and Hyunjin sliding in behind her. 

     Both desperately thrust into her and kissed along her exposed skin. Y/n didn’t have much of her energy left to grasp onto them or claw at their skin. Simply getting drunker and drunker on their scents. Whining endlessly as the two thrusting into her seemed to do the same. She was whining as they kissed her skin as she clenched around them. 

     It was only a matter of seconds later that she was cumming again. Sensitive from everything around her breaking her down one last time as the two alphas desperately worked to theirs. Knotting her one last time before she could rest into the bed. 

     “Feel better?” Hyunjin asked from behind her

     Y/n nodded, eyes drooping. Her body was ready to sleep.

     “Hey sleepy, gotta clean you up,” Minho’s voice came 

     “Bath,” Y/n whined

     “With who pup?” Felix asked 

     “Bin.”

     Y/n zoned out as the alphas did their aftercare chores. Jisung and Hyunjin slipped out of her once they were able to and Changbin helped her into the bathroom. A warm bath waiting for her and Changbin helped her in before getting in behind her. He gently helped her clean herself— doing all of the work really. 

     “Tired?” Changbin asked and kissed her cheek 

     “Mhmm,” Y/n hummed 

     “Still got to eat something, baby. Didn’t eat today did you?”

     “No,” Y/n admitted 

     “Still got to eat when you’re in heat.”

     Y/n cuddled into him as he finished cleaning her, helped her out, and got her dressed before joining the rest of the group in the living room with food. Y/n found herself curled up with Felix. The group turned on a movie and joked about for what Y/n could remember. She ate a little bit of the food before falling asleep on Felix.

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[seokgyuu]

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love. 

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.  “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”  Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here. 

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale. 

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!” 

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier. 

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise. 

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks). 

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation. 

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together. 

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights. 

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer. 

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all. 

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?” 

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move. 

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. 

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” 

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it. 

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting. 

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before  - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps. 

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours. 

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode. 

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed. 

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you. 

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.” 

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek. 

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious. 

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up. 

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin. 

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you. 

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now. 

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him. 

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs. 

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you. 

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier. 

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end. 

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life. 

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you. 

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you. 

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish. 

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him. 

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you. 

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there. 

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life. 

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you. 

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. 

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again. 

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it. 

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt. 

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm. 

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans. 

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath. 

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours. 

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin. 

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.” 

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red. 

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t. 

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again. 

[grippingbeskar]

small favours

— joel miller x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts

— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.

You hadn’t asked for much.

It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?

Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.

It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.

It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.

All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.

There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.

Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.

“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.

“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”

Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.

“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”

“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.

“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.

You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.

You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.

“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”

The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.

When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.

“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“

“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.

In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.

“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.

“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”

“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”

“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.

“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.

“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.

“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”

“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”

“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.

“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.

“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”

“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.

“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”

“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh

“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.

“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“

“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”

“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”

“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.

“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”

“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”

“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.

He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.

Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.

“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”

“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”

“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.

“You want me to stitch your face together?”

“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.

“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.

“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.

“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.

“Sorry. Shit—“

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”

Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.

The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.

“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.

“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.

“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.

It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.

You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.

You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.

“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”

Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.

At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.

“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.

“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”

“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”

“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.

For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.

He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.

“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”

“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.

“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.

“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”

“But I want—“

“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”

“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”

“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.

He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.

Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.

He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.

“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.

“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.

It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.

There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.

“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“

He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.

You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”

“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”

“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.

He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.

“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”

He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.

He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.

“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.

“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.

It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.

You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.

“So fucking tight around me.”

“God, you feel good.”

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“

“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.

The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.

“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.

“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”

You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.

[seafarersdream]

Last Friday Night | Modern AU! (Cregan Stark x Y/N)

In the realm of scandalous misdeeds, slumbering with your brother’s best friend should be a cardinal sin—dangerous liaison that Y/N Velaryon ought to steer clear of, now nor in any future reincarnation. But, oh, how the rules bend under the weight of temptation. A night of drunken sex with Cregan Stark, Jace’s insanely hot best mate and a towering 6-foot something alpine skier with ice in his veins. What a night it was! Only problem? They were both so tipsy that the details are a hazy blur, and now they awaken in a tangled mess beside each other. Word count: 5,6k

TW // Strong language and profanities, sexual content, mentions of alcohol, smoking.

“Fuck.”

That was the first coherent thought Y/N Velaryon had when she opened her eyes. Her head throbbed like a drum, each pulse a reminder of why tequila shots are the devil’s work. The room was unfamiliar—definitely not hers. The bed was too big, the sheets too expensive, and the body lying beside her too…well, fuck again.

She turned her head slowly, hoping against hope that her suspicions were wrong. Maybe it was some rando, some nameless, faceless guy who she could shove out the door with minimal awkwardness. But when she finally caught a glimpse of the dark, messy hair and the broad, bare back that could only belong to one man, she groaned internally.

Cregan fucking Stark.

Of course, it was him. It couldn’t just be some forgettable one-night stand. It had to be her brother’s best friend, the guy Jace had always been crystal clear was off-limits. And here they were, in bed together, like the setup to some bad rom-com, except this was way more fucked up.

She pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to piece together what the hell happened last night. There were flashes—Jace convincing her to go to some ridiculous party at a mutual friend’s country estate (more like a palace really), the champagne flowing, the ridiculous number of shots, and the way Cregan had looked at her from across the room. Not that she'd paid much attention, or so she thought.

And then…nothing. A blank slate. Well, at least until now, when the reality of waking up next to the man Jace had declared off-limits hit her like a truck.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Y/N muttered under her breath, shifting slightly to get out of bed without waking Cregan. But the sheets rustled, and before she could even swing her legs out, a deep voice rumbled beside her.

“Morning.”

Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She froze, mid-escape, and slowly turned to face him. Cregan was wide awake, propped up on one elbow, smirking at her like the cocky bastard he was.

“Morning,” she croaked, her mouth dry as hell. “This is, um…”

“A fucking disaster?” he suggested, his grin widening.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Cregan chuckled, the sound rich and annoyingly sexy, even through her hangover. He looked far too pleased with himself, considering the circumstances. His dark eyes held hers, and for a second, Y/N was painfully aware of the fact that she was still very much naked under these sheets. So was he.

This was beyond bad.

“I remember bits and pieces,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “But not…this. Why didn’t you stop me? Or yourself?”

“You think I could have stopped you?” Cregan raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You were pretty damn determined.”

Y/N groaned, slumping back against the pillows. “Fuck. Jace is going to kill us. You know that, right? He’s literally going to skin you alive.”

“Pretty sure he’s got more important things to worry about than who his sister hooks up with,” Cregan said, stretching lazily. “Not that I’m planning on telling him.”

She shot him a look. “And how exactly do you think we’re going to keep this a secret? He’ll know. Jace always knows when I’m up to something. He’s like a damn oracle.”

Cregan shrugged, like he wasn’t at all fazed by the prospect of Jace’s wrath. Which, Y/N supposed, he wouldn’t be. Cregan Stark was all ice and steel when it came to handling pressure. Professional alpine skier, always on the edge of danger—like he didn’t have enough adrenaline in his life without adding ‘sleeping with his best friend’s little sister’ to the list.

“We just pretend it didn’t happen,” Cregan suggested, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. “Last night was a blur, and this morning’s just a bad dream. We’ll go our separate ways, no one’s the wiser.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Y/N asked skeptically.

“We won’t know unless we try,” he replied, his tone almost teasing.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d just finished uni, started her internship at a nice law firm, and was supposed to be focusing on her career. Instead, she was tangled up in the sheets with Cregan Stark, about to engage in the most complicated cover-up of her life.

“Fine,” she finally said, exhaling sharply. “But if Jace finds out, you’re the one explaining it to him.”

“Deal.” Cregan’s smirk softened into something almost genuine, and for a moment, Y/N’s stomach did a weird flip.

She quickly pushed the feeling down. This was a one-time thing, a mistake—one she couldn’t afford to repeat, no matter how tempting it might be. The last thing she needed was more complications in her life.

“Okay, I need to get out of here,” Y/N said, sitting up and scanning the room for her clothes. They were scattered across the floor, a chaotic mix of her dress, shoes, and underwear. Cregan’s clothes were mingled with hers—of course, he didn’t seem to be in any rush to get up. Typical.

As she scrambled out of bed, trying to gather her things, she felt Cregan’s eyes on her, and when she looked back, there was something in his gaze that made her pause. It wasn’t just the lazy, post-hookup look she expected. There was something else, something deeper that she couldn’t quite place. But before she could analyze it further, he smirked again, shattering the moment.

“Need any help?” he offered, his tone suggesting anything but.

“I’m good,” she replied quickly, slipping into her dress and trying to maintain whatever dignity she had left. “I’ll just, uh, see myself out.”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” Cregan said, his voice holding a hint of something she couldn’t quite identify—teasing, maybe, or was it something more?

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She needed to get out of here, get back to her place, and pretend this never happened. As she slipped her shoes on and made a beeline for the door, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time, and it took every ounce of willpower not to look back.

The walk of shame had never been so literal.

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Y/N finally made it back to her flat in South Kensington, pushing through the ache in her head and the overwhelming need for a gallon of water and a hot shower. She fumbled with her keys, silently praying to every god she didn’t believe in that Jace would still be at the photoshoot he’d mentioned yesterday.

But as soon as she swung the door open, she knew her luck had run out.

Jace Velaryon was sprawled out on her couch like he owned the place—legs kicked up on the coffee table, remote in one hand, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in the other. He looked up as she entered, and his face lit up in that way only big brothers get when they know they’re about to cause trouble.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, a grin spreading across his face. “Look who’s doing the walk of shame this morning.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “Shut up, Jace. I just went for a…walk.” Even she cringed at how lame that sounded.

“A walk?” Jace repeated, raising an eyebrow. “In last night’s dress and heels? That’s a new one, even for you.”

“I wasn’t—” she started, but Jace cut her off with a laugh.

“Please, sis. Don’t even try it. I’ve known you too long to fall for that bullshit.” He sat up, clearly enjoying himself. “So, who was the lucky guy? Or girl? I’m open-minded.”

She shot him a glare, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her cheeks. “It’s none of your business, Jace.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined. “You’re my little sister. It’s literally my job to make your love life my business.”

She snorted, moving past him toward the kitchen. “Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships.”

“Hey, I’ve been in plenty of—” he began defensively, but she cut him off.

“One-night stands don’t count, Jace.”

He laughed, unfazed. “Touché. But seriously, you look like death warmed over. Was the party that wild?”

Y/N could still feel the blood rushing to her face, and she kept her back to him, rummaging in the fridge for a bottle of infused water. “Yeah, it was…something.”

“I knew it!” Jace crowed, slapping his knee. “I knew you’d have a good time once you loosened up. See, you should listen to me more often. You’re always so serious with your work stuff, but you gotta live a little, Y/N. You’re too young to be so…responsible.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Jace had a point. Her life had been all about exams and internships lately, no time for fun or the kind of reckless behavior that usually ended with waking up next to a Stark.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Party more, work less,” she muttered, twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a long drink.

Jace leaned forward, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “So, was he hot at least? This guy you left with?”

Y/N almost choked on her water. “What? I didn’t leave with anyone.”

“Right,” he said, dragging the word out. “That’s why you’re sneaking back in at ten in the morning with bedhead and makeup smudged like a panda. Come on, just tell me who it was. Was it that guy Luke introduced you to last week? What was his name…Liam? Leon?”

She shook her head, exasperated. “Hells, Jace, can you just drop it?”

Jace grinned, leaning back again. “Oh, this must’ve been a really good one if you’re getting this defensive. Come on, Y/N, I’m dying here. Give me something.”

For a second, she considered telling him the truth—just blurting it out and watching the chaos unfold. But then she thought of Cregan’s lazy smile, the way he’d suggested they just forget about it and move on. The way her brother would probably explode into a million pieces if he knew. And she decided against it.

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically. “If you must know, it was some random bloke, okay? No one you know. Just a guy. But yes, he is fit. Satisfied?”

Jace considered this, squinting at her as if trying to detect a lie. Finally, he shrugged. “I guess. But if you don’t want me to know, that just makes me want to know more. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” she replied, moving past him again, hoping he’d drop it.

He watched her go, still grinning like an idiot. “You know, you should bring him to the next party,” he called after her. “Introduce me. I promise I won’t bite…unless he’s into that sort of thing.”

Y/N groaned and flipped him off over her shoulder. “You’re disgusting, Jace.”

“Love you too, sis,” he shot back, laughing. “And don’t think I won’t find out who it is. I always do.”

She shook her head, muttering curses under her breath as she retreated to her room. She needed a shower, a coffee, and about ten years of therapy to figure out how she’d ended up in bed with Cregan Stark of all people. But first, she needed to figure out how to keep Jace in the dark. Because if he ever found out…

Well, that wasn’t even worth thinking about.

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Cregan Stark stood in the middle of his wrecked bedroom, hands on his hips, surveying the chaos. Sheets twisted, pillows on the floor, a lamp somehow knocked over. It looked like a tornado had swept through, and that tornado’s name was Y/N Velaryon.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his tousled dark hair. He tried to piece together the events of last night, but the details were hazy, like trying to grab smoke with his bare hands. He remembered flashes—the way she looked at him, the heat in her gaze, the sound of her laugh, and the taste of alcohol on her lips.

But everything after that? A blur.

Goddamn shame, too, because if there was anything he wanted to remember clearly, it was Y/N Velaryon in his bed, under him, her nails digging into his back. Fuck, he’d have liked to play that on repeat in his mind forever, but the alcohol had betrayed him, stealing away the details of what was undoubtedly the hottest night of his life.

He started picking up his last night’s clothes scattered across the floor and cursed himself again. How could he forget? He rarely drank that much, being an athlete and all, but last night…last night had been something else. He found his shirt flung over the back of a chair, his pants half-hanging off the edge of the bed. His brief were bunched up in the corner, and then—

Oh.

A small, red scrap of lace was tangled up in the sheets. He picked it up, grinning as he realized it was her G-string. She must’ve been in one hell of a hurry to leave it behind. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the delicate fabric, imagining her wearing it, and smirked.

“One hell of a merchandise,” he muttered with a chuckle, tucking the lace into his pocket. “Score.”

It was stupid, really. A goddamn G-string, and here he was, acting like he’d found a winning lottery ticket. But there was something about Y/N—something that had always pulled him in, even when he’d been trying his hardest to ignore it. Jace’s little sister, forbidden territory. He’d spent years pretending he didn’t notice how fucking gorgeous she’d grown, how smart and sharp-tongued she was. But last night had shattered all of that pretense into a million pieces.

He shoved the rest of the clothes into a messy laundry pile, wondering how long it would take for Jace to find out. Y/N was good at keeping secrets, he’d give her that, but Jace was practically psychic when it came to his sister. Cregan could already hear his best friend’s voice in his head, pissed off and protective, probably ready to bash his skull in.

But for some reason, that didn’t bother him as much as it should. He found himself smiling, still, as he started straightening up the room. Maybe it was because he liked the idea of having something that was just his and hers—something Jace didn’t know, something they could keep between them.

And hell, if it was anything like last night—at least, what he could remember of it—he wouldn’t mind making a habit of it.

As he finished tidying up, he spotted his phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new message. He picked it up, already knowing who it would be.

Jace:

Yo, brunch? Need to talk to you about something.

Cregan snorted. Of course, Jace wanted to talk. He always did when something was up with Y/N. He hesitated for a second, wondering if Jace had already figured out what had happened. But nah, if Jace knew, the message would’ve been a lot less polite.

He typed back a quick reply.

Sure, mate. Usual spot?

There was a pause before Jace responded.

Jace:

Yeah, see you in 30. And don’t be late, you lazy fuck.

Cregan chuckled, tossing the phone back on the bed. Yeah, this was going to be fun. He grabbed a fresh shirt, slipped it over his head, and, with a final glance around the now semi-clean room, he headed out.

He might not remember every detail of last night, but he’d be damned if he let that stop him from figuring out how to make it happen again.

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Cregan arrived at the little brasserie they always met at, a tiny spot tucked away on a quiet street. The kind of place with faded awnings and mismatched chairs that served strong coffee and even stronger Bloody Marys. Jace was already sitting outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips, dressed in designer shades and a leather jacket that probably cost more than most people’s rent.

“You’re late,” Jace called out as Cregan approached, flicking ash into the street. “I was starting to think you’d bailed.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, mate,” Cregan replied, sliding into the chair across from him. “But, you know, mornings are a bitch.” Especially when you’ve just spent them cleaning up the aftermath of what could’ve been the best mistake of your life, he thought.

Jace smirked, passing him the pack of cigarettes. “Yeah, looks like you had a rough one. Big night?”

Cregan shrugged, playing it cool. “Something like that. But hey, speaking of big nights…” He leaned in conspiratorially, lighting his cigarette. “What’s this I hear about Aegon?”

Jace snorted, taking a drag from his own cigarette. “Oh, mate, you haven’t heard? It’s fucking priceless.” He leaned back, tapping the ash off with a grin that was half-amused, half-disgusted. “My dear cousin managed to land himself in the hospital. For his cock.”

Cregan choked on his first drag, coughing out smoke. “What?” he managed between laughs. “His cock? You’re joking.”

“I swear to god,” Jace said, holding up his hand like he was taking an oath. “Apparently, he was trying to pull off some kind of…threesome, foursome, who the fuck knows, at one of those clubs he’s always getting kicked out of. Anyway, things got out of hand, and next thing you know, he’s screaming in agony and they’re rushing him to A&E.”

Cregan was in stitches, wiping a tear from his eye. “You’re telling me Aegon actually managed to break his dick?”

“That’s the rumor,” Jace replied, chuckling. “Doctors said it was some kind of penile fracture. Can you imagine? Poor bastard was probably halfway to heaven when he got dragged right down to hell.”

“Thoughts and prayers mate, that’s rough,” Cregan said, still laughing. “How the hell does that even happen?”

Jace grinned, leaning in. “Apparently, he got too enthusiastic. Girl was on top, he was thrusting up, and…” He made a snapping motion with his fingers. “Snap.”

Cregan winced, half in sympathy, half in amazement. “Fuck me, that’s got to hurt. How long’s he gonna be out of commission?”

“Couple of months, at least,” Jace replied, blowing out a stream of smoke. “He’s already whining about it all over social media. You know Aegon. Can’t suffer in silence.”

Cregan snorted. “Sounds like him, alright. Bet he’s milking it for all it’s worth, too. Getting the sympathy votes.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jace agreed. “He’s already got half the city sending him flowers and chocolates like he’s some kind of war hero. Even Mum’s getting involved—sending him a care package like he’s gone off to battle instead of just fucking his way into the emergency room.”

They both laughed, loud and unrestrained, the way only friends who’ve known each other too long can. The kind of laughter that turns heads from the neighboring tables, but they didn’t care. They were in their own world, swapping stories, cigarettes, and coffee.

“Honestly, though,” Cregan said after a moment, shaking his head. “Only Aegon could turn a night out into a medical emergency. Guy’s got a talent.”

Jace grinned, flicking his cigarette butt away. “Yeah, but you know what they say about talent and stupidity—it’s a thin line.”

Cregan chuckled, taking another drag. “And Aegon’s crossed it, time and time again.”

“Too right,” Jace replied, nodding. “But it makes for good entertainment. Can’t wait to see how he spins this one. You just know there’s gonna be some kind of dramatic story about how he risked it all for love or some other bullshit.”

“The hero’s journey,” Cregan quipped, smirking. “Except with more broken bones and fewer dragons.”

Jace laughed. “Fewer dragons, more dick injuries. Welcome to the modern world.”

Cregan took a long drag, blowing out smoke slowly, his mind still partially elsewhere, still thinking about the G-string tucked in his pocket. Yeah, this was the kind of gossip he could get behind, but there were other things—better things—on his mind. Like how he was going to see Y/N again without Jace getting suspicious. Because if Jace found out…

Well, he’d just have to make sure Jace never did.

Jace was mid-sip on his coffee when he caught a glimpse of something on Cregan’s neck. He blinked, did a double take, then broke into a wide, shit-eating grin that could have lit up all of London.

“Oh, no fucking way,” he practically howled, slamming his coffee cup down onto the table and leaning forward. “Is that…what I think it is?”

Cregan, who had been in the middle of stubbing out his cigarette, froze. “What the hell are you on about?”

Jace pointed, still grinning like he’d won the lottery. “Your neck, you dumbass. You’ve got hickeys all over it.”

Cregan felt his stomach drop, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he reached up, rubbing his neck as if he is already aware of them. “Oh these?”

Jace let out a loud, triumphant laugh. “Come on, don’t play dumb with me. Whoever you were with last night really went to town.”

Cregan could feel his face heat up, but he kept his expression neutral. He was an expert at this game; he’d been friends with Jace for too long to let him see he was rattled. “Maybe I just ran into a really aggressive mosquito,” he shot back dryly.

“Bullshit,” Jace cackled, smacking Cregan on the arm. “Come on, bro, spill the beans. Who was it? Who’s the lucky lady leaving marks on your neck like you’re a piece of meat?”

Cregan shifted in his seat, trying to keep his cool. He could still feel the faint burn of Y/N’s lips on his skin, and damn if that didn’t send a shiver down his spine, even now. “Just a random girl,” he said casually, waving a hand like it was nothing. “Nothing serious.”

“A random girl, my ass,” Jace scoffed, leaning closer, his grin wider than ever. “Come on, mate. I know you better than that. You don’t let just anyone mark you up like that.”

Cregan rolled his eyes, trying to deflect. “And how would you know what I do or don’t let happen?”

“Because I’ve known you for a decade,” Jace shot back, grabbing another cigarette. “You’re picky. Way pickier than me, and that’s saying something. So, whoever it was…must’ve been special.”

Cregan fought the urge to wince. If only he knew just how “special” the girl had been. He could almost see Jace’s face if he ever found out. Cregan could already imagine the explosion—the yelling, the accusations, and Jace’s unrelenting fury. Yeah, best to keep this under wraps.

He leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “You’re reading too much into it, Jace. It was just a fun night. No big deal.”

“Fun enough to leave those,” Jace said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Seriously, they look fresh. Did you at least get her number?”

Cregan snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “Nah. It was just one of those things, you know? No strings attached.”

“Huh, strings,” Jace snickered. “Or no strings…left, eh?”

Cregan’s hand twitched towards his pocket, where Y/N’s G-string was still tucked safely away. He felt a momentary thrill of panic, wondering if Jace could somehow read his mind, but his best friend’s smirk told him he was still in the clear…for now.

“Look, mate,” Jace said, putting out his cigarette and leaning in with a mock-serious expression. “All I’m saying is, whoever she was, she clearly had a good time. And you…you’ve got the evidence to prove it. But come on, give me something. I’m dying here.”

Cregan laughed, finally slapping Jace’s arm in return. “Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I’ll tell you…someday.”

“Oh, you will,” Jace replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “One way or another, Stark, you will.”

As Cregan leaned back, smiling like he hadn’t a care in the world, he knew this was a situation he’d have to play carefully. Because if Jace ever found out the truth, those love bites on his neck would be the least of his worries.

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Monday arrived like a slap in the face, and Y/N was not ready. Not even a little bit. She sat at her desk, her fingers hovering over her laptop keys, but her mind was a million miles away. She was supposed to be working on some due diligence report, but instead, she was spiraling.

Full-on, out-of-control spiraling.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t had her fair share of one-night stands before. She was young, single, and sometimes she just needed to blow off steam. But this? This was different. Because it hadn’t been just anyone. It had been Cregan Stark. Her brother’s best friend. The guy Jace had practically tattooed with the words Do Not Touch where she was concerned.

And it wasn’t like she was worried about Jace finding out, not really. She was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake. She lied for a living, spun stories into gold, and could argue her way out of anything. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Cregan’s face, felt his hands on her, and heard his deep, rumbling laugh in her ear. The memory alone sent her into a panic.

She’d needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t Jace. So, of course, she’d turned to her cousin, Baela Targaryen, who was currently perched on the edge of Y/N’s desk.

“You did what?” Baela practically screeched, her voice loud enough to turn a few heads in their direction.

Y/N winced, shooting her a look. “Keep your voice down, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed.

But Baela was having none of it. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her violet eyes wide. “You slept with Cregan fucking Stark?” she repeated, but at least this time she whispered. “Holy shit, Y/N. This is…this is epic.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning. “No, it’s not. It’s a disaster. A full-blown, Jace-will-kill-me disaster.”

“Are you kidding?” Baela snorted, leaning in. “Jace doesn’t have to know. And besides, Cregan’s hot as hell. I mean, have you seen him? Those shoulders? That jawline? And he’s an athlete. A pro skier. The man probably has a body like a fucking Greek god. Why are you freaking out?”

“Because it’s Cregan,” Y/N said, exasperated. “It’s Jace’s best friend. And I’m supposed to be focusing on my career, not getting tangled up with guys I shouldn’t be touching.”

Baela rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’re young, hot, and brilliant. You can focus on your career and still have a little fun on the side. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to sleep with their brother’s best friend at some point?”

Y/N gave her a look. “Most people, Baela.”

“Well, most people are boring,” Baela shot back, grinning. “Look, you’ve always been the responsible one. The one with the plan, the one who does everything by the book. Maybe it’s time you let loose a little. And besides…” She leaned in, her grin widening. “How was it?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, and she hated how easily Baela could do that to her. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I mean, it was…good. Really good. But that’s not the point.”

Baela laughed, her bright, melodic sound echoing through the open office space. “Oh, that’s exactly the point. Come on, Y/N, you’re practically glowing. It must’ve been better than good if you’re this messed up over it.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to pull herself together. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake. A one-time thing. It can’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Baela asked, still smiling like a psychopath. “If it was so good, why can’t it happen again?”

“Because…” Y/N started, fumbling for the words. “Because it just can’t, okay? I can’t deal with the drama. And Jace will find out, and then it’ll be this whole big thing, and—“

Baela waved her off. “Jace doesn’t have to know, alright? You’re smart. You can handle it. And who knows? Maybe Cregan’s just the kind of distraction you need right now. Especially with all these dry, boring cases we’re stuck with.”

Y/N sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, a distraction is the last thing I need right now. What I need is to keep my head down and avoid any more…complications.”

“Oh, Y/N, you can do that,” Baela teased, nudging her with her elbow. “But where’s the fun in that? Life’s too short to be boring. Especially when you’ve got a Stark on your side.”

Y/N shot her a glare, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not helping.”

“And you’re overthinking it,” Baela replied. “Look, you had a wild night with a hot guy. Enjoy it. Don’t spiral. Just…see what happens. You might surprise yourself.”

Y/N wanted to argue, wanted to tell Baela she was wrong, but deep down, she knew her cousin had a point. She was spiraling, and it wasn’t getting her anywhere. Maybe Baela was right.

Or maybe she’d end up in even deeper shit. But what’s done is done.

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Cregan slammed the barbell back onto the rack with a grunt, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The gym was quiet on a Monday afternoon, just the rhythmic thud of weights hitting the floor, the hum of the treadmill belts, and the occasional grunt from the other athletes scattered around. It was exactly how he liked it—minimal distractions, just him and the iron.

But today, he couldn’t focus for shit.

He was supposed to be prepping, getting his body in peak condition for the winter season. Autumn was crunch time for a professional skier. Every session counted, every rep, every second shaved off his sprint time mattered. And yet, here he was, barely keeping his head in the game, because all he could think about was Y/N Velaryon.

Fuck, he needed another go.

He dropped down onto the bench, grabbing a towel and rubbing it across his face, trying to clear his thoughts. But it was impossible. His mind kept replaying the brief flashes he remembered from that night—the way she’d looked up at him, her lips parted, her hands pulling him closer, nails digging into his skin like she couldn’t get enough of him.

And the way he couldn’t remember every goddamn detail was driving him insane.

He needed a do-over. A second chance to burn the memory of her into his brain properly this time. The half-forgotten fragments weren’t enough. Not even close. He wanted to remember everything—the way she tasted, the sounds she made, the way she moved against him. He wanted to savor every moment, replay it in his mind during the endless hours of training and competition.

He grabbed a medicine ball, slamming it down against the floor with a force that rattled the nearby weights. He knew he needed to get his shit together. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now, not with the season so close. But the harder he tried to focus, the more his thoughts drifted back to her.

To the way she’d looked that morning, rushing out of his flat, her hair a mess, her dress askew, and the small, scrap of lace she’d left behind like a calling card. He felt a grin tug at his lips just thinking about it. Fuck, she’d been gorgeous. And he’d been too smashed to enjoy it properly.

“Get a grip, Stark,” he muttered to himself, slamming the ball down again, trying to burn off some of the frustration coursing through his veins.

But it was no use. No matter how many reps he did, no matter how much weight he lifted, the image of Y/N wouldn’t leave his mind. He remembered the way she’d smirked at him from across the room at that party, the way her eyes had lingered on him just a little too long, like she’d been daring him to make a move.

And, oh, he’d made a move, alright. He just wished he could remember every damn second of it.

He switched to the rowing machine, gripping the handles tightly, and started pulling with quick, powerful strokes. His muscles burned, sweat dripped down his back, but it still wasn’t enough to push her out of his mind.

The problem was, he wanted her again. He wanted to see her, touch her, hear her laugh that low, teasing laugh she had. But this time, he wanted to be fully aware of every single thing he did to her, every little reaction he could coax out of her. He wanted to watch the way her pupils dilated when he touched her, hear the way her breath hitched, see that flash of challenge in her eyes when she bit her lip.

He wanted to remember. All of it.

He needed to see her again, needed to make that happen. But how? It wasn’t like he could just call her up. She was Jace’s sister, for fuck’s sake, and Jace was already poking around, suspicious as hell. No, he’d have to be careful, play it smart. He needed to find a way to get her alone again, away from her brother, away from prying eyes.

The rowing machine beeped, signaling the end of his set, but he barely heard it. His mind was already spinning with possibilities, ideas forming as he wiped the sweat off his face.

Yeah, he’d find a way. There was no way in hell he was letting this go. Y/N Velaryon was under his skin now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get a chance to do things right this time.

Cregan cracked his neck, a determined smile spreading across his face as he headed toward the free weights. He’d figure it out. And when he did, he was going to make damn sure he remembered every single second of it.

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:01」 — x.minghao

» seventeen menu | the8 menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ half-dragon!Minghao × fem!Reader wc: 7.3k summary: After inheriting an estate deep in the Bavarian Alps from his maternal grandfather, Minghao arrives to find the estate has survived the war unscathed and that deep underground is a vault full of historic and old art dating back to the 8th century. He decides to hire an appraiser to inspect the collection but becomes enamored with her. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller, historical; non idol au, monster idol au, historical au, post-ww2 au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of: food & alcohol consumption, supernatural & horror themes, post ww2 in Europe, allusions to the Nazi party; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglist! taglist for kinktober is CLOSED. Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was a rough time to get started and i have to restart twice, once after completely redoing the plot. it was difficult but once i changed the plot, things flowed so much more naturally! but here we are baybee! kicking off Kinktober 2024 with dragon!Minghao in the 1940's post WW2! i did minimal research on this cause I'm a stickler for world building but I hope you all enjoy the first part of Kinktober. one day, 30 to go! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), mirror sex, sex photos, unprotected sex (don’t do this lol), use of pet names (bao bei, beibei, sweetheart, etc.), oral (f receiving, m receiving), fingering (f receiving), and that should be all but let me know if I missed some! kinks: mirror sex + sex photos dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Don’t cover your mouth, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. ❜❜

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Whether it was the scenery itselves or the dragon blood in him, Minghao loved the serenity and peace that seemed to accompany traveling through the mountains. This drive was a vaguely familiar one though he hadn’t been on this road since he was a young child.

He looked out the window as the car climbed higher, the trees on one side giving way to the view of the valley below. It was a picturesque scene, a beautiful lake at the base of the mountains surrounded by a forest of oranges, reds, yellows, and greens. He turned his gaze away as the car turned, following the curve of the road as the mountain flattened out.

The road was lined on either side with trees, providing cover from the cloudy, gray skies as the car drove along. Minghao caught a glimpse of the manor through the tunnel of trees, intrigued to see what state it was in since the hospitalization and death of his grandfather.

He hadn’t been to this estate since he was a young child, visiting with his mother until he threw a fit about going again. Since then, he had not stepped foot on the grounds, preferring to spend the holidays with his mother instead in their ancestral home.

Now he was in his late twenties and returning to the vacation home of his maternal line after being bequeathed the estate in his grandfather’s will. The car broke through the line of trees, taking a slight curve, forest on one side and a stone wall that dropped into a lower valley on the other.

The manor was just as he remembered, imposing and gray with gothic overtones and the facade made almost entirely out of stone. The angled roofs curved at the base and sharp spires at the ridges along the roofs. The majority of the stone was limestone, edged with a darker color of stone.

As the car pulled up, a light wind blew, the mix of orange gold, and brown leaves blowing across the stone, hitting the wall overlooking the valley. Minghao settled back in his seat, looking up at the imposing mansion, wondering the state of the interior. Outside, the place looked well kept but the inside could be an entirely different story.

The car pulled to a stop, the engine cutting and silence falling over the interior as the driver got out. He made to open the door himself but the driver beat him to it. Minghao got out, buttoning his coat as he looked up at the manor, thanking the driver. Up close, the estate looked almost immaculate. The windows had the curtains drawn, not allowing him to see inside the house.

The front door opened and a rather serious and proper looking man exited the house, followed by an equally serious and proper looking woman. They waited as Minghao turned to look at the driver unhooking the luggage from the back rack. Minghao walked over to greet the couple.

“Good afternoon,” the woman said, curtseying while the man bowed his head. “You must be Minghao,” the man asked to which Minghao nodded. “Yes,” he said softly. “You’ve grown quite a bit since we last saw you,” the woman spoke. “I used to attend to you when you were a child,” she continued. 

“Your bags will be brought into the red room,” the man interjected. “It’s the only renovated room.” Minghao nodded. “And you two are?” Minghao asked. “I’m Klaus,” the man introduced before gesturing to the woman. “And this is Renate.”

The woman nodded, giving Minghao a kind smile. “Please, come this way,” Renate said, gesturing to the house. They walked in silence to the house, up the steps and into the foyer. Minghao looked around, taking in his surroundings with an impressed air.

The foyer was small but spacious enough with a small coat room off to the left and to the right was the library, the door opened. “That library was your grandfather’s favorite place in the house,” Renate said, noticing Minghao’s wavering attention. “How many bedrooms does this place have?” Minghao asked, changing the subject.

“Ten,” Renate answered as the driver and one of the staff started bringing in his trunks. “Right, this way,” Klaus said, gesturing to them to follow him, leading them through the foyer and entrance hall and disappearing through an open doorway.

“Shall I give you the tour or would you like to rest?” Renate asked. Minghao looked around once more before turning to look at her. “I think a tour would be nice,” he said. “Will give me an idea of the condition and state of the house,” he continued, looking around once more. “Yes. I think a tour is in order.”

Renate took him around the house, showing him the different rooms. From what he could see, only a handful of the rooms were in need of renovations and a few could use upgrades but were not in dire need. The kitchen was functional and cozy with a large dining room attached.

Also off the kitchen and next to the dining room but not attached, was a decent sized sun room. On the opposite side of the house from these rooms was a guest suite where his things had been brought. “I had this room made up for you since it’s the only guest suite on the main floor,” Renate said as Minghao looked around. “It’s also the only one that has been renovated.”

Minghao stopped and turned to look at her. “It’s perfect,” he replied. “I think I’ll freshen up before dinner,” he continued, crossing the room to where she stood in the doorway. “If you could please produce a set of keys for me, I would appreciate it,” he added. Renate’s smile fell. “Why?” she asked.

“Because I’m the owner of the estate now,” Minghao answered. “I don’t want to have to seek you out to unlock doors in my own home.” Renate nodded, clearing her throat. “I shall see if I can’t locate the other keys. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere,” she replied. “Dinner will be in an hour.”

She left, closing the door behind her and allowing Minghao his much needed privacy. He moved over to his luggage and opened the top trunk, finding some of his clothes. He would unpack later, first he would explore the guest suite and see what he could find and if there were any secrets.

The guest suite was large, a massive four poster bed stood in the middle of the room, the headboard pushed against the outside wall. Thick, velvet drapes hung from the intricately carved wooden frame. Standing at the foot of the bed was an ornate bench carved, stained, and lacquered just like the rest of the furniture. Minghao walked over to a small seating area past two pocket doors that shut to close off the area from the bedroom.

On the opposite side of the bed from the sitting room was the entrance to a private ensuite bathroom with marble floors, two pedestal sinks sat under golden framed mirrors. A massive soaker tub with golden clawed feet stood opposite the sinks. A pipe protruded from the wall above the tub, curving downward and providing a shower head.

Minghao returned to the bedroom area and walked over to the bed, falling onto it and staring up at the drapes. Though he vaguely remembered this house from his childhood, nothing about it had seemed familiar since entering and he wondered how much had changed from when he was a child.

A knock at the door interrupted his train of thoughts and he sat up as the door opened, a young maid poking her head into the room. “Begging your pardon, sir,” she said softly. “I’ve come to unpack your luggage.” Minghao relaxed. “I see,” he said simply. He had assumed, incorrectly, that he might be allowed to unpack his own luggage but he was proven wrong again and again.

“Knock yourself out,” he replied, gesturing to the collection of trunks waiting at the end of his bed. The maid opened the door and Minghao realized it was not one but two maids. “We’ll work quickly and when we’re done, we can show you where everything is,” the first maid offered. Minghao nodded and got up as they started to get to work. “I’ll just get out of your way,” he said, walking towards the door and slinking out of the room.

He still had time before dinner would be ready so he decided to explore the first floor a bit more. As he walked past the foyer, he noticed a door with a round window and walked over, peering into the window only to see nothing but darkness. “The elevator,” a voice said, making Minghao jump. “Your grandfather lost a lot of mobility before he was hospitalized so he had this installed to make getting from the ground floor to the top floors easier.”

Minghao turned to look at the door once more. “Does it only go up?” he asked. “Sir?” Klaus asked. Minghao looked at him. “Does it go downstairs, too?” he asked. Klaus nodded, grimacing. “Indeed it does but there isn’t much down there except storage and cobwebs.” Minghao snorted and turned back to the elevator door. “Does this even work?” he asked, reaching for the door.

“Don’t!” Klaus snapped, making Minghao retract his hand quickly, almost as if he had been burned. “My apologies,” Klaus said, regaining his composure. “The elevator is turned off and very dangerous when not operated properly.” Minghao nodded, wide eyed. “Duly noted,” he said. “Is there another way downstairs then?” Minghao asked. Klaus gave him a surprised look.

“I’d like to see everything,” Minghao added. Klaus nodded. “I’m sure, sir,” he explained. “But you have more than a day to do so,” he continued. “How about you focus on relaxing today and tomorrow you can tackle the basement?” Minghao stared at Klaus but conceded. “I suppose the basement could wait,” he said softly. “Good. Dinner should be ready soon,” Klaus added, giving Minghao a nod and turning on his heel in the direction of the kitchens.

Dinner was a private affair as Minghao sat at the formal dining room alone. After eating, he returned to his room where the maids showed him exactly where they stored everything and even packed his luggage away. He thanked them and called it a night, getting ready for and settling down into the oversized bed.

Falling asleep in a new environment was always difficult no matter how comfortable things seemed and only after tossing and turning for hours did Minghao finally manage to drift into a dreamless slumber.

The following morning, he was woken by Renate. He cleaned up, dressed, and had dinner before he decided to explore the rest of the house, starting with the upper floors. He made a mental note of which rooms he wanted to renovate before finally being given a set of keys; a skeleton key for all the interior doors, a key for the exterior doors, a key to the storage sheds and garages, and a key for the attic which coincidentally also worked for the basement.

Minghao was more than pleased to be allowed to finally inspect the basement and Klaus had been right. It was a storage place for old furniture, all coated in a thick layer of dust, with cobwebs in every corner. As Minghao worked with some of the estate workers to shift the furniture aside he discovered something no one had mentioned to him. A massive vault door.

When asked, Klaus and Renate admitted they knew of the existence of the vault but that they didn’t know what was inside it. Neither also claimed to have knowledge of a combination. Minghao stood in front of the door for hours, trying to figure out the combination, trying several different ones but none of them seemed to work.

Days passed by and he grew more and more restless at not being able to open the vault. While inspecting the library for a book to occupy his time, he found a bright blue book, a copy of On Blue Water by Edmondo de Amicis. It was placed amongst a shelf of brown bindings and looked oddly out of place. Minghao walked over, inspecting the book and carefully removing it from the shelf.

He flipped through the pages, finding blue ink circling parts in the book. Starting from the first instance, he saw the number eighty-seven. The next was forty-two, followed by seven, ninety-nine, sixty-three, and finally four. He walked over to the desk, grabbing a pen from the stand and a blank piece of paper as he wrote the numbers down, taking into consideration the arrows drawn below each number.

When he was done, he returned the book to the shelf he found it and quickly made his way downstairs to the vault door. He followed the combination, hoping it would be correct and when he heard the click, he nearly cheered in relief. He lifted the handle, releasing the mechanism holding the door shut and pulled it open. Whatever he had been prepared to find beyond the metal door, it was not this.

Inside the vast vault was a collection unlike anything he’d seen. A collection of art. As he realized what he’d stumbled upon, he shut the door quickly and headed upstairs to seek out either Klaus or Renate. He needed to make a long distance call.

When you received the call from Germany, you could hardly believe it. A colleague of yours called to explain he had suggested your name to a potential client. Someone had just unearthed a rather large collection in an estate in the Bavarian Alps and needed an expert eye to evaluate and appraise the pieces. They were willing to pay handsomely as well as fund your trip from Portugal, where you currently called home.

You jumped at the chance to set your own price and also for travel to the remote location in Germany. The trip was long, arduous and by the end, you wanted nothing more than to never step foot on a train or ship again. You arrived in Innsbruck, Austria after taking train after train in Italy and that was only after taking a ship from Lisbon through the strait of Gibraltar into the mediterranean and to the Italian capital of Rome. You still had a drive from Innsbruck to the remote estate in the mountains but a car ride where you could sleep off your trip was more than welcome.

You woke up as the sun was setting, the car climbing into the mountains and you could see the valley below was bathed in shadow from the sun setting behind the crest of the mountains behind you as the car turned, following the curve in the road. A tunnel of trees lined the road, wind starting to whip violently as the car drove on and soon the forest opened up to show a massive mansion nestled in the mountains.

It was impressive with the dark storm clouds looming overhead, the light from the sun blocked by the mountain to your left yet golden rays of light hit the clouds behind the estate, making them look ever so darker as the car pulled up next to a blue Roadmaster.

You opened your door, refusing to wait any longer. A bed inside the estate was yours and you were ready to collapse into it and sleep off your travel. The driver unpacked your things, setting them down by the back of the car as the front door opened. A stern looking older woman greeted you, introducing herself as Renate. She had one of the young men from the garage carrying your things and welcomed you to the estate, guiding you inside.

The foyer was grand and dark with white tile flooring. The door to your right was open, displaying a few coats hanging up in what you surmised was the coat room. The door to your right was shut. As the door closed behind you with a loud click, you walked further into the house. “Your rooms have been drawn for you upstairs,” Renate said, guiding you towards the stairs.

You followed her up the sweeping staircase, looking overhead and taking in the details of the intricate and massive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Once on the landing, you followed her down one of the halls to a door which she opened for you. “This will be your room for the duration of your stay,” Renate explained. “Your things will be brought up to your room and the maids will unpack your things,” she explained. “I will take you to meet the owner of the house now.”

You followed her back down the hall to the stairs as a door opened, revealing an elevator and the driver bringing your luggage upstairs. You continued down the steps to the ground floor and followed Renate through another hallway to a door where she knocked before opening it. “Sir, there’s a Miss Y/N here. She’s just arrived,” she announced, stepping aside and gesturing for you to enter.

Inside the room was a dark parlor decorated and furnished in the Victorian style. It was a cozy room, a massive fireplace with a roaring fire took up a great deal of wall space with built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace. Sitting in front of the fireplace was a seating area, two couches facing one another with a low table between them. Perched on one of the couches was a young man.

He had reddish brown hair, a slender build and was currently immersed in a book he held. At the mention of your name, he looked up and your breath caught in your throat when his gaze met yours. His eyes were red and orange, like fire. The pupils in the middle were vertical slits. “Perfect,” he said, snapping the book shut and setting it down on the table.

Renate gave a curtsey before exiting the room and shutting the door, leaving you alone with the man who now stood before you. He had his hands tucked into his pockets. He wore a simple black turtleneck under a thicker sweater with a v-neck. His trousers were a medium brown and made of what looked to be tweed. He wore simple brown plain toe derby shoes to complete the look. 

“Based on Renate’s introduction, I can assume you are Y/F/N Y/L/N?” he asked, a neutral expression on his face. You nodded slowly. “And you are?” you asked, walking forward, intent on shaking his hand. “Minghao,” he answered as you held out your hand. Xu Minghao,” he added, taking your hand and shaking it briefly. “I assume you know why you’re here?” he asked and you nodded once more.

“For my expertise,” you answered. “I doubt you’d  invite me here based on my good looks,” you joked. Minghao let out a chuckle, returning his hand to his pocket. “So,” you said, looking around the room. “Where is this collection?” Minghao smiled again, gesturing for you to take a seat on the couch across from him. You did so as he sat back down.

“Before we get into the thick of it so to speak, I’d like to set your payment, something you agree is fair and we can sign off on,” he explained. You nodded, narrowing your eyes. “My usual rate is a twenty percent cut of the collection, were you to sell it,” you explained. “Only twenty?” Minghao asked, tilting his head. “The more priceless a collection, the more money I get,” you added.

“If your collection is only worth a million, I would get two-hundred thousand. That’s a pretty fair price for evaluating and appraising the pieces. Especially with the amount of research I end up doing,” you said as Minghao nodded along. “I understand that,” he explained, leaning back against the couch. “I think what you do is worth more,” he added. “I’m willing to go up to thirty percent.”

Your brows rose, eyes widening. “Thirty percent? Goodness, you’re generous,” you said, your lips pulling back into a smirk. Minghao mirrored your expression. “So we’re in agreement?” he asked. “Thirty percent?” You nodded in response. “Sounds reasonable to me,” you answered. “Good,” Minghao replied. “Dinner should be ready,” he added. “How about you get changed and join me?”

You returned to your room, changing out of your clothes and into something more appropriate for dinner. You returned downstairs to the foyer where you were greeted by a stern looking man you had yet to meet. “I’m Klaus,” he introduced himself with a small bow. “Dinner is being served and Mr. Xu has asked me to escort you to the dining room.”

You followed him through the halls until you reached a door which he then opened and gestured for you to enter. Inside was a large dining room with a table large enough to seat 12. Sitting at the head of the table was Minghao. When you entered, he stood up quickly as Klaus exited, shutting the door behind him. “Please,” Minghao said, gesturing to the seat adjacent to him.

You walked over, thanking him and moved to sit. Minghao was quick to pull the chair for you and move it again when you sat down before returning to his chair. You thanked him as the door behind you opened and a small service staff entered, setting a few platters down on the table in front of you and Minghao. “I asked them to make something new,” he explained as they removed the lids, showing a vast array of dishes that all looked amazing.

“Something with goat,” he added as he inspected the dishes. “Please,” he continued, gesturing to the food. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.” You thanked him, digging into the food in front of you, not realizing that you were ravenous until the food was in front of you.

Silence fell over the room as you ate, no conversation was being had until Minghao spoke up. “So you traveled from Portugal?” he asked as he cut his meat. You nodded, wiping your mouth before speaking. “Yes,” you answered. “I had an apartment just outside Lisbon.” Minghao looked up at you.

“Had?” he asked, picking up on your use of past tense. “Yes,” you answered. “I travel for work and often only rent places for as long as I’m there,” you explained. “The job in Lisbon lasted for almost a year,” you continued. “The collection I was tasked with evaluating was massive and ended up being worth a whopping eighty-seven million pounds,” you added. Minghao’s eyes widened. “Eighty-seven million pounds? Good gracious,” he said softly. “And you got twenty percent of that?”

You smiled, picking up your glass of wine. “It’s not a bad business to be in,” you explained. “It certainly isn’t,” Minghao said with a chuckle as you took a sip of wine. “My father was an appraiser,” you said suddenly. But he never made it a lucrative business like I did. We struggled a lot and he would disappear for months on end, never so much as sending a letter or calling,” you continued.

“My mother, God rest her soul, worked 12 hour shifts at the local textile factory just to make sure we had food on the table.” Minghao kept his eyes on you as you spoke. “As soon as I was able, I started working. Mainly bookkeeping and typing,” you continued. “I was able to put myself through college with a combination of working and scholarships,” you said with a smile. “I immediately made a name for myself, assessing art collections left and right in America until my first overseas assignment in London.” 

Minghao couldn’t help but smile. It was clear you took great pride in your work. Your smile, nostalgic, slowly fell as a memory came into the forefront of your mind. “That’s where I was living when the war broke out,” you said, a bitter tone in your voice. 

Minghao couldn’t help but feel a similar anger and hatred towards the war. He’d been living in China at the time, deep in a remote area and away from the cities for protection. The war hadn’t hit him but you, living in London, he could only imagine how it affected you. The destruction and danger lurking around every corner.

“I worked as an air raid warden during the first few years but in the last couple, I was promoted to evacuation officer,” you explained. “It was stressful, being in the midst of all the bombings and trying to keep my cool and help direct evacuees,” you continued. “But I learned a lot about the world and myself in those years.” Minghao took a sip of his wine. “I can only imagine what you went through,” he said softly, making you look towards him.

“I was hidden away in China,” he continued. “We didn’t see much war where we were,” he added. You smiled sadly. “China is a pretty big place,” you replied. “I’m sure places like Beijing, Shanghai, and Hong Kong saw most of the action,” you added. Minghao nodded. “I’m sure they did. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Especially so far from home.”

You shook your head. “Home is wherever I rest my head,” you replied. “My family is all gone now. It’s just me.” Minghao felt his heart sink slightly. He knew what it was like to be alone in a sense but he still had family that was alive, he was just estranged from them so it wasn’t entirely the same feeling. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied but you smiled, dismissing his apology. “It’s all right now,” you answered.

“Less to worry about,” you added as you picked up your utensils. “Dinner is delicious by the way,” you added, changing the subject. Though you maintained this calm, unbothered air, Minghao could see right through it. One of his many talents as a draconian descendant.

He wouldn’t push it though. It wasn’t his place. If you wanted to talk about it, you would.

The next couple days, Minghao showed you the house so you could familiarize yourself with the layout. On the third day, he finally took you to the basement, opening the vault and showing you the contents. As you entered, carefully examining the works with gloves, you cataloged things slowly.

“So,” you said, returning to Minghao who was standing outside the vault. “I have good news,” you said softly, lowering your clipboard. “Everything is labeled and there is a box full of documents, which I can only assume are the auction and purchase records. Whoever owned this collection took great care in keeping records which makes my job much easier,” you said with a smile.

“Lunch is almost ready,” Minghao replied. “Shall we eat first and then you can go over the records after?” You nodded, smiling at him. “Sounds superb.”

After a quick lunch of soup and sandwiches, you returned to work, pulling out the record boxes and going through them, matching the papers to the items. “This is incredible,” you breathed, pouring over the records. “Not only are the dates of purchases listed but the prices are also listed. This is an incredibly well documented collection.” Minghao smiled as you flipped through page after page.

It took a few days but you finally had a partial appraisal for the ceramics. “Two hundred thousand?” Minghao asked when you showed him your numbers. “Two hundred and forty-three thousand, six-hundred and fifty-seven to be precise,” you answered. Minghao let out a laugh. “And that’s just the ceramics?” he asked to which you nodded. “I expect that to be the lowest number of this collection,” you answered.

Your assumption was proven to be correct when you came back with the values for the other categories.

Minghao stood, reading over your numbers as you sipped whiskey from a crystal glass. “Are these numbers accurate?” Minghao asked. You nodded. “I’m nothing if not accurate,” you replied. “Are they lower than your projection?” you asked, suddenly worried about his response.

During your time at the estate, you’d taken a liking to Minghao, something you normally never allowed to happen with clients. It was easy to like him. He was handsome, charming, well-spoken, intelligent, and incredibly witty. He was good company during your meals and late at night when you were working on your estimates. You’d become very close with him, especially after he told you about his parentage and his nature as a half dragon. You’d never met someone like him before.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re higher,” he added. “I expected a much lower number.” You smiled at him, setting your glass down and getting up to join him, taking the paper from him. “A great number of these items date back as far as the 8th century,” you explained. 

“Like this one,” you said, pointing to an item on the list. “A silk print from eighth century China,” you said. “Or this one. A nineteenth century watercolor. There’s only one of these in existence. And this thirteenth century oil painting? The art community thought this was lost forever.”

“A lot of these items are worth even more because of the war,” you continued, handing the paper back to him and picking up your glass, downing the rest of the amber liquid. “A lot of art was lost, destroyed by the Third Reich. The Nazi stole a lot of art and we’re still trying to recover it. Most of the stolen art may never be recovered,” you continued.

Minghao held the paper in his hands but his eyes were on you. “A lot goes into appraising,” you explained. “Condition, rarity, age, authenticity, subject matter, and size are a few of the things I look at when appraising art collections. Many of these items are unique and only a few versions of them exist,” you continued, moving to the bar cart to pour yourself another drink.

“And every single one of these artists or sculptors are dead,” you continued, popping the top off the decanter and pouring more liquid into your glass. “Which makes these even more valuable. They can never be replicated by the original artist.” You placed the lid back and turned to face Minghao, holding the glass in your hand. He was still staring at you, a look of something you couldn’t place in his eyes.

He set the paper down and stalked forward slowly to where you stood until he had you caged in against the bar cart. “You know,” he said softly, eyes dipping down to look at your lips. “You’re incredibly sexy when you talk about this,” he said, tilting his head to the side. You swallowed nervously. “When I talk about art?” you asked, feeling a heat settling in the pit of your stomach.

“No,” he replied, taking your glass and drinking it in one go before setting the empty glass on the cart. “When you talk about something you’re passionate about.” He leaned in closer, lips inches from yours. You felt a shiver run up your spine, desire mixing with the sexual tension that hung in the air.

“I’m passionate about a lot of things,” you said, one of your hands moving up his arm to rest on his bicep. “Oh?” Minghao asked. “Like what?” He was teasing you now, the smirk on his face gave it away. He wanted to see how far he could take this. How far he could push you before you gave into him.

“Art, cuisine, fashion,” you said softly. “Photography, travel… sex.” 

The next moment, Minhao closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours as his hands moved to your waist. You kissed him back with as much hunger, hand grabbing him desperately. Your lips parted, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss as you felt one of his hands move down, cupping your ass and squeezing. Minghao pulled back, looking into your eyes, breathless as he spoke. “Maybe we should—”

“Take this somewhere else?” you asked, hopefully finishing his sentence. He nodded, pulling you into another kiss. “Your room or mine?” you asked as he left a trail of kisses down your neck. “Mine’s closer,” he murmured, his long fingers swiftly undoing the tie at the top of your blouse..

“Lead the way,” you said, pushing him back playfully. Minghao’s fingers instead closed around your wrist, pulling you from the bar cart and dragging you from the parlor, across the foyer to a pair of double doors you’d seen and knew was probably his room. When he parted the doors, he quickly pulled you into the room before shutting the doors.

You only got a brief look around the room before he was on you, kissing you and pulling at the buckle of your skirt belt, quickly undoing it and unzipping the skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at your feet. You stepped out of the mess of fabric, letting him pull your green blouse off and tossing it to the floor with your skirt leaving you in your lingerie.

You felt slightly self conscious under his gaze as his eyes wandered, taking in your figure. You slowly moved back, taking a seat on the edge of the bed still in your heels. Minghao moved over, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your cheek, lips trailing down your neck to your chest. He glanced up, meeting your gaze before he started kissing his way down your stomach as he slowly knelt down.

He worked slowly, removing your shoes, one by one. You glanced up, eyes widening as you caught sight of your reflection in a massive mirror that stood across from where you sat. “My, that’s quite a mirror,” you said softly as Minghao continued to remove your shoes, humming in response.

Once your shoes were dealt with, Minghao’s hand slid up your legs, undoing the clips of your garter belt and then sliding your stockings down your legs, dropping both of them on the floor with your shoes before he got back up, climbing onto the bed over you as you scooted back. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, hands moving to slide your garter belt off along with your panties.

You let out a gasp as you felt two of his fingers spread your lips, finding your clit and muttering softly under his breath about how wet you felt. You tried to say something, to bite back, but your words failed you as he drew his finger in a languid circle around the sensitive nub.

You whined, hips bucking as he took his time, teasing you with long, drawn out massages. He chuckled, kissing down your chest and stomach again. He settled between your thighs, moving his fingers and pushing them into you slowly as his tongue descended onto your clit, tasting you with a groan.

Your thighs tried to close on his head but he pulled back, lightly smacking the inside of your thigh with his free hand. “Keep them open,” he growled before going right back into it. You moaned loudly, unrestrained, quickly reaching up to cover your mouth. Minghao reached up, grabbing your wrist and pulled your hand from your face.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t cover your mouth. I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.” You nodded slowly, moving your hand down to the sheets and gripping them as Minghao returned his attention to your clit, his fingers moving inside you. He pumped them at a steady pace, stopping to curl them up and making your back arch as you moaned again and again.

“That’s it,” he said softly, watching as your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. “Does it feel good?” he asked. You nodded with a whimper. “Yes,” you breathed. “F-feels so good!” Minghao smirked as he continued to curl his fingers, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. “You gonna be good and come for me, sweetheart?” he asked. Your thighs had started to tremble, the tension in your body ready to snap at any moment. You whined in response.

“I need to hear you say it, bao bei,” he murmured, drawing out his motions, making them as slow as possible. “Yes!” you cried. “M’gonna cum!” Minghao resumed the same quick pace, rubbing against your walls as he drove you over the edge and your orgasm crashed down on you. You gasped, spewing out a slew of curses mixed with his name as he helped you ride out your high.

“Good,” he said softly. “Good girl.” You attempted to push his hand away when it became too much and sensing what you were silently asking for, Minghao removed his fingers, giving you a break. He cleaned his fingers, getting up from the bed. You heard him move around the room but were too exhausted to open your eyes and see what he was doing.

He returned to the foot of the bed and when nothing else happened, you finally opened your eyes and saw him standing at the foot of the bed. He held something in his hands. “I’d like to ask your permission for something,” he started.

You looked at the item in his hands and noticed it was a camera. You looked up to meet his fiery gaze. “I’d like to photograph you,” he continued. “Like this,” he added, gesturing at your posture. You pushed yourself up. “You want to photograph me naked?” you asked, slightly amused. Minghao chuckled, lowering his gaze to his camera. “No,” he replied, shaking his head before looking back up.

“I want to photograph you in the middle of sex.”

To say you were surprised was an understatement but you weren’t entirely turned off the idea. “And these would be for your eyes only?” you asked softly. Minghao nodded as he prepared the camera. “I plan on turning one of the bedrooms into a dark room,” he explained, raising the camera to look through the viewfinder and pressing the shutter button, before lowering it and smiling at you.

You leaned back, spreading your legs. “How do you want me?” you asked playfully as he raised the camera again, snapping another picture. You laughed and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed and grabbing at his belt loops, pulling him closer to undo his pants, starting with his belt. You unzipped his pants, pulling them down enough to pull his cock free from the confines of his underwear.

You wasted no time in taking the head into your mouth, surprising him into letting out a groan, his head falling back, exposing his long neck. You took more of him in your mouth, keeping your tongue flat against the underside as you took him further. You heard the snap of the camera and pulled back until just the tip was in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head.

You heard another snap followed by the automatic wind of the camera and kept going, each time taking him further and further into your mouth as you drew him to his full length and hardness. “Fuck, just like that, sweetheart,” you heard him groan, snapping another photo. You pulled back, moving your hand up and down the shaft and looked up at him.

“You gonna fuck me already?” you asked mischievously. Minghao tossed the camera onto the bed and pulled his sweater over his head, discarding it on the floor before pulling off his shirt and adding it to the growing pile. You scooted back to the middle of the bed, removing your bra and tossing it aside as he climbed onto the bed, trailing wet kisses up your stomach, stopping to nip at the skin under your breast. His tongue brushed over your nipple, swirling around it before he continued up your chest, running his tongue over your skin.

At the junction of your neck and shoulder, he sank his teeth into your skin, making you cry out and your body jerk suddenly. He used your movement against you, moving closer and taking his cock in his hand. He guided the head to your folds, rutting against your for a moment before pushing into you, letting out a growl as your warm walls enveloped him.

He grabbed the camera from its resting spot and sat back, holding it up to snap a photograph, aiming the lens at the place where your bodies met. “Oh fuck,” you gasped as he thrusted into you, bottoming out and his cock nestling against your cervix. He snapped another picture of your nude body before tossing the camera aside once more and grabbing your hips.

He neither eased you into it or warned you but started a rough, brutal pace immediately, hips snapping forward and burying his cock into your cunt repeatedly. You cried out in both shock and pleasure at the intensity at which he started right away. Your fingers curled into the sheets, thighs spreading more as he pounded into you. “You’ll cum if you go too fast,” you mused, eyes fluttering shut as you felt him throb inside you.

He chuckled, a breathy sound as his grip on you tightened. “I have more stamina than that, beibei,��� he said softly. He gave you another harsh thrust, enjoying the way your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips. The room was full of the sound of skin against skin and your moans. It almost drowned out the sound of the rain outside. Almost. 

Minghao slowed his pace before pulling out of you. You protested but he simply grabbed your hand and pulled you up as he shifted behind you, pushing you on to your hands and knees as he re-entered you from behind. You moaned, head dropping as he grabbed your hips, resuming that same merciless pace only now he was hitting even deeper.

“Look up,” he murmured in your ear. You did as he said, raising your head until you met the gaze of your own reflection. “Oh shit,” you gasped, walls clenching around him. He grabbed your chin, pressing his chest against your back as he leaned over you. “I want you to watch me fuck you,” he growled into your ear. “Watch yourself cum.” You moaned but maintained eye contact with him through the mirror. In the darkness of the room, his eyes glowed and he seemed even more dragon-like than before.

You pushed back, meeting his hips and thrusts with as much force as you could muster but you were getting weaker with each snap of his hips against your ass. His cock seemed to swell inside you or maybe it was your walls clamping down and not wanting to let go but he filled you so deliciously and with each rut, you were pushed closer and closer to your climax.

“That’s it,” Minghao said, his breath hot against your skin. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and let go.” His freehand moved from your hip to between your thighs, working your clit in time with his thrusts as he propelled you over the edge. You came with a scream as a loud clap of thunder shook the house and the very mountain it stood on.

Minghao fucked you through it, chasing his own high as he finally released inside you, painting your walls in his hot thick cum. There was more of it than you could initially comprehend, filling your walls and no doubt every crevice of your womb. Pregnancy was the last thing on your mind and you moaned, pushing back onto him, milking him for every bit of cum he had.

“Careful sweetheart,” Minghao purred into your ear, moving his hand to your throat and holding it firmly but not squeezing. “We have all night,” he continued.  “I’m not done with you just yet.

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[livelaughloveluffy]

confession - trafalgar water d. law

a/n: sorry, i cant not call law "captain". its the same thing with luffy too, its just so hot 😭😭😭 fanfic is truly the only lawless time that i would be into some sort of power imbalance in a relationship, what happens on tumblr, stays on tumblr 😭💀

a/n: okay, not to like be the girl that pairs her fics with songs, but like... the second i finished proof-reading this i couldn't help but think of how well this fit: so here it is; hopefully you see the vision 😭😭😭 you can't tell me that song isn't law coded as hell 💀

nothing but fluff here 💗

---------------------------------------------------------------------

when law first asked you to join the heart pirates, he never intended to fall for you. in fact, he actively tried to not fall for you.

it wasn't because there was anything wrong with you. you were everything he wanted and more, but he didn't want to be in a relationship. he didn't know how to be, if he was ready for one, how to be a boyfriend. he knew this, at yet, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

•♡•

when you first joined the heart pirates, initially you thought that the captain regretted even asking you to join. you always felt his watchful gaze following you. even when he wasn't around, you could still feel the burn of his intense hazel eyes on your skin. it became difficult for you to even look at law without blushing slightly, feeling a bit intimidated by him, but also intrigued.

so when he asked you for help organizing the files and loose papers in his office, you instantly agreed. party because you hoped that if you did a good job, you would prove to the captain that you were competent and a good choice to be on his crew, and partly because you held the tiniest bit of hope that this could be an opportunity to get to know him more.

•♡•

okay, so, maybe you were wrong. maybe this was a bad idea. i mean, you can't say no to the captain's orders, but also. this was painfully awkward. at least for you it was. you had been going through the loose papers on law's desk with minimal guidance from him. he sat on the opposite side, engrossed in work.

once the mess of papers on his desk were somewhat figured out, you moved them to a separate (just as cluttered) table in his office to set the down on while you gather other papers scattered around the room. even now with your back turned, you could feel law's hazel eyes following you as you moved around his office.

you hurriedly grabbed the other miscellaneous papers, bringing them to the secondary table, where you then decided to take a seat and really sort through them all, carefully scanning their content to determine how you should file them.

it wasn't until a good half an hour in, that you uncovered an open book buried beneath the papers. you make note of the page it is opened on, holding a finger in place there, as you turned to look at the cover.

"i didn't know you were reading this series law! it's one of my favorites! how are you liking it?" law glanced up from his work, looking to see what book you were talking about. with a scoff, he suddenly seemed to perk up a bit, which was the most excitement you'd ever seen displayed from the captain. "fuck, i've been looking for that book for seven months, every island we stopped at that had a bookstore was always sold out. i've been wondering how it ends for ages now."

"it's my all time favorite in the series, the ending was amazing! i wouldn't mind rereading the whole series just to read that book again.... im glad i could find it for you!" you replied, with a wide smile.

law quietly stood up, leaving his desk to walk over to the bookcase beside it. he grabbed the very first book of the series. as he walked over to you, he paused right in front of you for a second, as if contemplating what he was about to do before offering the first volume to you in exchange for the copy you had found of the third volume. with his gruff and quiet voice, he announced "the office can get organized another day, wanna read for a bit?"

•♡•

true, law was always intrigued by you, from the very second he met you. but pure intrigue had instantly shifted to attraction the second he looked up at you holding the "lost" copy of the book he had been obsessed with. it was to his surprise that you too had also read this series, and loved it.

before he could even process what was happening he heard the words "the office can get organized another day, wanna read for a bit?" slip out of his mouth. and the instant wide smile that shined on your face after he did make him so glad he had said it.

•♡•

it wasn't too long after that first day organizing law's office that the two of you made it a plan to read together. quiet and dark evenings in the captain's office, spent in comfortable silence and the the frequent ambient sound of page turning as the two of you read and reread some of the best moments in your beloved book series.

as you both continued to make progress with the novels each night, the more you noticed the utter charm of the captain. his toned, tan, tattooed chest, his messy dark brown hair, his piercing eyes as the scanned the words on the page in front of him.

you two had grown comfortable in each other's presence, and even began to prefer it to being alone. this small routine being the only time you guys got to spend together alone, becoming an honored custom.

but you couldn't help but hope for more from the captain...

•♡•

law had a hard time vocalizing his feelings. this was something he always knew, but didn't quite have to face the reality of until he was sitting alone in his dark office, waiting for you to show up for your usual nightly reading date, but as the clock ticked by he began to give up hope.

his jealousy bubbled to the surface when he walked into the common room to be greeted with you.... hanging out with shachi, penguin, and bepo, cuddled up next to the soft polar bear mink during a movie night with the crew. what bothered him the most, wasn't the obvious sitting right in front of him, but the fact that he was the one who let it happen. its not like you knew that he'd been harboring feelings for you, he never said anything. but that was about to change.

snuggled into the warm fur of your mink friend, you didn't even notice the law's quiet whispers across the common room "room... shambles."

•♡•

in an instant, you were suddenly in law's office. instead of your head being buried into the soft white fur of navigator of the heart pirates, instead your cheek was laying against the soft warm bare chest of the captain. finally adjusting to your surrounds, you startle a bit "captain.. what the hell is going-"

his arms tighten their grasp around your body, keeping you pressed against him. "sorry... i just.. i couldn't stand watching the two of you that close anymore..." he explained, his voice gruff and somewhat defiant, as if it was a sign of weakness and vulnerability to come clean about the way he feels. "i just.... i was waiting for you tonight.."

you softly began to explain the situation "im so sorry, bepo and the gang dragged me to movie night before i could make it to your office" with side of your face pressed against law's bare chest, you could feel his heart racing, he was much more nervous than he let on. and you, feeling proud of him for being able to vocalize his feelings this far, you decided to make it a bit easier for him when you reply "if you wanted me, captain... all you had to do was ask.."

you could feel him bury his face into your hair, and for a moment he just sat there, holding you, soaking it all in, before he lets out the smallest whisper, just barely loud enough for you to hear, as if he's so afraid to say his wish out loud, like doing so would make it disappear "please be mine?"

you lifted your head up, bringing a hand to the side of his cheek, before you reply "consider me all yours, captain."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: i may have written the end of this fic before the beginning, so just roll with it if the flow is kind of weird at the end 😭😭 idk how much longer i can stare at my laptop writing this 💀

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[heliumshorns]

This???

Oh, it's....

It's just an absolute ramble about how GOOD toji fucks when it's nice and slow.

You know.

The basic.

... mdni obviously??? Uhhh.... spit?? A little bit of that.. TOJI IS A SOFT DOM????? FOR ONCE???? WE LACK SOFT DOM TOJI CONTENT????? this was more lovemaking than sex tb but still works I guess

The hand tugging your hair, making you face him even when you believe you just can't? He'll make you remember you can take him, and very fucking well.

Something he murmurs into your ear while you're getting pounded your soul out of your body. And even though 90% of the time you end up losing any sense of coherency with how good the curve of his cock is massaging your G-spot, the times your ears don't ring out of pleasure? You catch a few words.

"Mhm... look at how pretty you look like that, baby. Yeah? Can you hear me?"

And when your moan comes out something minimally affirmative, he grins. He's cocky because he knows. He knows he's good when it comes to making you feel good. He knows you know. It's hard not to when he proves it to you almost every day.

"Stay here. I'm here. Listen to me.... Yeah, good girl."

Now. Toji is aware it technically isn't possible, but he grits his teeth anyway because damn you might just snap his dick off. He laughs, though. A low rumble that runs all through you. He sees how your skin forms goosebumps. How your nipples harden with that shiver.

"Oh... oh yeah... You can be loud, darling, it's just you and me... Just you and me."

Even though you could barely brethe to moan, really. Probably too gone to even think about how you sound. Choked noises with every breath you take. His eyes bore into your rolled back ones, and he sneaks a hand around your throat. Legs over his shoulders. Folding you into a mating press.

"Eyes on me. I want you to see who's making you feel good, baby. That's right."

He felt your heartbeat. There's no way. He's sinking so far deep, feeling how your cervix is massaging his tip so... good. Jesus, he's going insane here. Your eyes eventually manage to look into his, and the lust swirling in his irises? Yeah... The loud, borderline pornographic moan you let our wasn't a plan. Nor were you aware, really.

His laugh makes you whimper. Feel so small.

"My little pornstar, aren't you, baby? Open your mouth for me, baby. Can you do that?"

Your shaky nod has him grinning as he licks the back of his teeth and roof of his mouth. Gathering saliva.

His hand holds your jaw open as he leans down, not once faltering the slow and deep thrusts. His eyes are on yours as his spit slowly drips down.

"Oh fuck, baby..." He manages to lose his own composure. His head falls foward, hair hiding his eyes when he moans out. Low. Deep. And so fucking good while he stares at your cunt just swallowing him so good.

With a thumb swiping to your clit, he hears your yelp. Sees your legs twitch. Yeah. He wasn't gonna last longer.

"Honey, do me a favour. Come for me, yeah? Let's count down. Let's come together."

... Okay. Not easy thing to do, but worth a try.

He uses one hand to fix his slightly overgrown hair, looking into your eyes. With that same hand, he holds your face. He could tell you were so fucking close it hurt. From the curled lip to the furrowed brow. The almost pained look in your eyes.

His thumb presses down. He feels as the nub naturally twitches.

"Three..." He murmurs, hips not faltering their face as he pushes your clit around, making sure to angle his hips just right.

"Shit- so fucking tight, ma-" He moans with a smile.

"Two..." Your eyes glaze over, and your mouth starts to tip open. You can barely fucking breathe now.

"One, baby. Come with me, please."

And God, do you come. Absolutely fucking groundbreaking. Mind on the clouds as his hips snap, and snap, bringing himself to orgasm as you milk him dry. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders? Yeah. Does he care?.... not really.

This is probably the longest orgasm you've had in a while. Shit had you trembling with the aftershocks with God knows how long, but once you're back here, on earth? Yeah.... You're instantly squirming away. Pushing at his chest.

And he complies.

He already had you out of your mind pre-orgasm. He didn't want to ruin you that bad.

Flopping down beside you, chest heaving as he stares at the ceiling.

After a minute or two of silence and heavy breathing, you finally speak:

"Told you it was worth it to take it slow."

He only laughs and nuzzles his face in your neck.

[pathologicalreid]

the space between us | S.R.

previously

The adjustment between never being home and always being home seems to take a toll on you.

who? spencer reid x fem!retired!reader category: flangst content warnings: the events of stuck between a rock and a hard place apply, briefly mentions a baby, reader trying to cope with a 180-turn in life, anxiety word count: 2.16k a/n: i meant for this to be fluff and it's definitely a tad angsty. good thing i'm obsessed with spencer and retired!reader. they'll be back.

Slowly but surely, you convinced yourself that the dark green walls of the apartment were closing in on you. Sitting up in bed, you looked at the time on your phone before quickly scrolling through the notifications, half expecting a text from Andi Swann asking you to come in.

She wouldn’t do that though, because she’s not your Unit Chief anymore, and you no longer work for the FBI.

The only text message you saw that piqued your interest was from your husband, letting you know that he was flying home.

Tossing your blanket off of your legs, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Hissing at the feeling of the cold hardwood floors beneath your bare feet, you wrapped your arms around yourself and made way for the kitchen. Creeping slowly on your way, you made sure to keep your footsteps light.

Gingerly, you flipped the light on, wincing as the fluorescence flooded your vision. As your eyes adjusted, you reached up to the cabinet, grabbed a cup, and set it on the counter.

“You’re sneaking around again,” a voice said from behind you.

Jumping, you put a hand over your chest and spun around, “You scared the shit out of me.” You frowned at Spencer, “I thought you were flying home. I just got your text.”

He nodded, walking into the warm light of the kitchen, “I texted you four hours ago that I was flying home from Connecticut.” His hair was messy, and he had already taken his contacts out, telling you that he had been in the bathroom – he had passed by you while you were sleeping.

Your lips tightened to form a small “o”. Leaning back against the counter, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “How was Hartford?”

Intently, you watched Spencer as he pushed his glasses up on his nose. “It was fine, the UnSub’s in custody, we’ll build the rest of the case from Quantico.” His tone was strictly no-nonsense when he repeated himself, “You’re sneaking around again.”

Letting your arms fall to your sides, you shrugged helplessly. “I don’t do it consciously, you know?” You told him, reaching behind your back to hoist yourself up so you’re sat on the kitchen counter, legs dangling in the air.

“I know,” he said gently, stepping forward so that he was standing directly in front of you. You parted your knees so that he could stand flush with the counter, allowing for minimal space between the two of you. “The fact that you’re doing it subconsciously makes me wonder if there’s a part of you that feels like you need to be quiet in the apartment,” he murmured, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You pursed your lips for a moment, thinking about an answer before you responded, “It’s late, I don’t want to bother anyone by walking too loudly.”

Based on the look in his eyes, you can tell that he doesn’t believe you, “It’s an old building, the floors are thick and well insulated. Also, the apartment below us is vacant, and you know that.” His words are borderline accusatory, and rightfully so. “Do you feel safe here?”

Surprised, your eyes flittered up to meet his, “Yes,” you answered almost instantaneously.

“Do you not feel at home here?” He asked, further pressing his agenda.

When you and Spencer decided to move in together, you were living in a studio apartment, so his place just felt like the obvious choice. At the time, you weren’t home long enough to make it home, and now it seemed like you were past the point of no return. “Can we go to bed?” You asked softly.

Spencer tenderly placed his hands on either side of your waist, “You’re deflecting. What’s so wrong that you don’t feel like you can talk to me, baby?” You should’ve known better than to answer a question with a question.

Averting your eyes, you looked up at the ceiling in hopes that the action would quell the tears that were filling your waterline. “I just feel so out of place,” you answered, emotion closing your throat.

“In the apartment?” He whispered softly.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you shook your head. Giving up on your dreams of stopping your tears, you bowed your head and let them fall. “In my life,” you clarified. “I thought it would be easy to just go from being an undercover agent to being at home. Maybe that was a lost cause, but I didn’t think it’d be so hard.”

Never wavering, Spencer stayed resilient with you as the dam broke, letting you lean your head on his shoulder and rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cried. “You’re going through one hell of an adjustment period right now.”

Nodding tearfully, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, “I feel like I haven’t been a real person in almost ten years. I don’t know who I am without that fucking job and it’s mauling me.” Briefly, Spencer stepped away from you, filling the cup that you had gotten out with water and handing it to you. “God, I’m a disaster. I’m so sorry,” you muttered, looking down at the glass of water you’d clasped in both hands.

“You are not a disaster,” he insisted. “You’re going through an unfathomable experience and you’re not giving yourself enough leeway,” he stressed, hooking a finger beneath your chin, and lifting your head.

Everything about him seemed soft, and you felt like pieces of broken glass – flying around and damaging everything in sight. You lifted the glass in your shaky hands, bringing the lip of the cup to your own and downing half of its contents.

Spencer studied your facial expression before he spoke again, “I know exactly who you are. You are the single most selfless person I have ever met,” he told you earnestly. “You spent nine years of your life rescuing tens of thousands of people, giving up holidays and birthdays and time with loved ones for the benefit of total strangers.”

Sniffling, you shook your head, “Spence,”

“No, this is true, and I need you to listen to me,” he urged. “One time, you had gotten back from five weeks undercover and, before catching up on sleep, you went to Henry’s birthday party. Solely because you had missed it the year before.” Hesitating for a moment, he resumed singing your praises, “You’re brilliant and funny and beautiful, but I need you to stop being so magnanimous.”

You pulled back, furrowing your brows in innate confusion, “What?”

He nodded, affirming his point. “I need you to be selfish. Operate with your self-interest in mind. Use that to discover yourself. If you keep throwing pieces of yourself away in order to make the people around you happy, then you’ll never really identify your adult self.”

“I don’t know where to start,” you confessed. You were always working; the FBI was your life. “Everyone is telling me to do different things,” you murmured. Spencer wanted you to be selfish, your mother wanted you to have a baby, and every single one of your friends had offered their stress relief methods – most of them unsolicited.

The understanding in his expression made your chest ache, “I think you should talk to someone. Not me, not Garcia, definitely not your mom, but a professional. You should talk your experiences out with someone who can help you work through it, not just like you do with me. I know you hold back details when it’s with me.”

Uncertain, you tried to wrap your arms around yourself again, but Spencer didn’t let you close yourself off. “Okay,” you ventured, “I’ll look into it.”

Putting his hands up, he smiled softly at you, “That’s all I ask.” He stepped back, allowing you to get off of the counter and stand. Spencer gently ushered you into the living room, sitting down next to you on the couch.

Instinctively, you leaned into his warmth as he draped an arm over your shoulders. “I need a hobby. Something to do other than sit at home all day,” you thought aloud.

“We can look for ideas in the morning,” Spencer offered. “Maybe we can go to the store this weekend for supplies.”

Turning your head to face him, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “Hey, Spence?”

He hummed, “Yes, love?”

“We could get a house,” you proposed. “It could be a good new start for the both of us, and we have the money,” the more you spoke about it, the more you liked the idea. A new start for the new you. Technically, the two of you were still newlyweds, it felt like something you were supposed to do. “We wouldn’t have to keep your books on the floor anymore,” you murmured, absentmindedly drawing shapes on his t-shirt with your index finger.

Your eyes flickered up to see him smiling. “We absolutely can get a house, and you won’t have to tip-toe,” he said pointedly, “it’ll be our space.”

Mirroring his smile, you adjusted slightly on the couch, “Our house.”

As you tucked your feet underneath yourself, you felt his eyes on you, “Are you sleeping alright?”

Groaning, you wiped a hand down your face, “You worry too much. We were doing so well.”

“Did you know that your coping mechanism is avoidance?” He remarked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, “I sleep fine,” you answered simply. It was true, once you were asleep, you slept perfectly fine until the morning. It was falling asleep that you had a hard time with, lying awake and wondering if when you finally fell asleep you would be greeted by nightmares. Nightmares that you had been waiting weeks for but had yet to come. “Let’s uh… let’s call it a problem for the professional,” you faltered.

He nodded understandingly, “You just let me know if there’s anything you need, okay? Anything at all.”

Allowing your body to meld into his, you hummed, “How are you doing with all of this?”

“I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, just to make sure you’re still breathing,” he confessed. Adjusting his glasses, he pulled you a little closer to him. “I’ve seen you more in the past six weeks than I had the previous year, and, selfishly, I’m glad that we get more time together.”

With one hand, you reached up and cupped his cheek with your palm, “I am too, love. It’s new, even though we’ve been together for years, I think we’re lucky to have something that feels new.”

He turned his head to press a kiss to the center of your palm before taking your hand in his, “I think I’m lucky to have you.”

“Sweet talker,” you teased lightly.

You nudged him gently when he went quiet. “I love having you be at home when I get home,” he whispered as if it was a secret. “I suppose I never really thought much of it because it always seemed like an unattainable fantasy.”

But now you were home when he came home. He took time off to spend with you right after you had gotten out of the hospital, but for the past six weeks, every time he walked in the door, you were around. It was almost like the two of you had entered your honeymoon phase. Although, you supposed you had, “Did anyone ask you about the party?”

Spencer chuckled, “Of course they did.”

Part of you supposed it was your penance for getting married in secret – mostly secret, everyone always seemed to forget that Rossi was there – that the BAU was insistent on giving the two of you a wedding. “I never knew profilers had such great memories,” you pondered. “No one else asks me about it.”

“They just want to make sure you’re alright before turning it into a celebration,” he explained. “For the BAU, taking a step back is a big deal,” he leaned his head to the side so that his chin was resting on the top of your head, “you know that, though.”

Nodding softly, you shut your eyes, “I don’t suppose they’d be willing to do a combo housewarming and wedding celebration.”

“Not a chance,” Spencer answered almost a bit too quickly.

You sighed in mock defeat, “We’ll just have to have a party a weekend until Garcia runs out of ideas.”

Slowly, you felt yourself falling asleep again, “Do you want to go to bed?” Spencer murmured.

There was just a moment before you hummed, “In a minute.” You pulled on the sleeves of your sweatshirt so they would cover your hands, “Hey, Spence?”

“Hm?” He said, drowsiness growing in his voice.

You tipped your head back and looked up at him, “I love being home when you get home, too.”

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