#i’m usually such a silver girl

[deklo]

slowly trying to get more gold jewelry and it’s come to my attention. that gold jewelry is very expensive :/

[gangplanksorenji]

Sterling

Pairing: aespa’s Karina & aespa’s Winter x Male Reader

Word Count: 19,461

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Possibly the longest, flithiest and the most boner-fueled hazed smut I have ever written (probably the most chaotic too, not gonna lie). Have fun reading this fic yereobun and I hope you enjoy this! <33

This one is dedicated to @sinswithpleasure who basically fueled me to write this kind of a WinRina fic...

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Peers, seniors and professors—probably the three pivotal pillars where a university is commonly known for.

You’re hanging onto that belief for a long time now that everything revolves around them, and it just doesn’t help with such hierarchy you possess within your own hands. It’s just with the fact that you can’t come up to an unbiased conclusion, but who cares? 

They may say it’s a great opportunity to be in your position, walking around the university with a silver spoon up in your arse? Well, you’ll say that’s a myth from the oblivious freshmans new to the block or the people thinking it’s all sunshines and rainbows but in reality, you’re in this constant state of stress and improvement that seems to get long so well yet contradicting.

You cursed yourself for the better, but it’s fine because there’s someone to lean on in times that truly tests you as a person, and maybe even yourself as your own enemy.

“Hey… you alright?” A faint voice murmurs onto your shoulders, you huffing a breath once you hear her voice, expressing your relief and that hint of anxiety.

“I don’t know honestly…” You’re stressed and in this battle with yourself, grasping the situation and fully digesting it was just a poison you’d love to get rid of. “I’m just a little rivaled if I deserve this spot or not.”

The girl’s face paints concern and doubt, patting your shoulder as soon as she hears those words alongside the reassuring words like: “Don’t say that, babe—you deserved this! Don’t be too heavy on yourself…”

She’s a girl you’d go to war for, would fight until the end of time because of how much you love her, even though it’s sometimes over the scope of things and that’s Yu Jimin, mononymously known as Karina. She’s a girl which everyone leaves in awe with her beauty, charisma and her clever mind (even though she can be silly sometimes), and a personality that’s caring and funny, truly, you’re hitting the jackpot having a girl like her.

These are true and that’s why you love her unconditionally—it’s just not that she’s possibly the most beautiful girl to ever exist in the world (honestly, you’d vouch that this is factual because her visuals are something surreal) but it’s mostly the fact on how she’s so down-to-earth and that alone makes you even fall for her more.

Her words of comfort alone can make your mind tranquil, and you adore it, even in the simplest terms.

“I know this sounds dumb, babe, but why are you feeling like this? Like right now, randomly?” It actually piques Karina, on why you’re suddenly like this. She knows that you’re in a different mood, far from your usual self with this given moment right from the start and her curiosity won’t do any better for her.

You scoff, looking at the distance. “No, I just—like, feel nervous or uneasy, I guess?”

“On what, exactly?” Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, interested in what may come out of your mouth. Even with the interest, a bright idea flashes onto her mind, supposedly knowing the roots of your nervousness.

“Let me guess, is it about Winter?” She hit the bullseye, your pupils dilating says so and it’s too late to lie right now.

“Yeah…” You scoff, Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, head shaking a little as she can’t believe you’re almost in shambles just because of a single girl. 

“Oh god, I thought it was something to really worry about.” Karina laughed a little, finding the situation hilarious as you’re perplexed with her unserious demeanor.

“You’re not worried about Winter?”

“Really, her?” Karina clicks her tongue, still registering how relieved she is when she hears the name and continues to reassure you, yet this time in a playfully silly manner. “I’ve been friends with her for a while and let me tell you, you shouldn’t be bothered about her…”

Those little words help you a little, more uplifted than before as she adds, “By the way, why do you feel nervous though? And why did you mention her? Something working on with her?”

She straightforward yet still quizzical, her questions remained her interest floating in the air and it’s for you to answer it. “Uhm, like—here: we’re going to work on a project that’s been approved by the campus’ director and I feel like Winter is something I won’t be comfortable working with…”

There lies the truth: you don’t despise Winter, not even in the slightest, yet there’s a faux inkling in your brain that’s keeping you away from making yourself comfortable with her, and it’s something dumb. 

“How so?”

“I don’t know, Rina…” You gave her this furrowed look, slightly shy and ultimately indecisive. “She looks intimidating and hard to approach. I may just feel the slightest bit of enthusiasm working with her.”

Karina feels something is off, analyzing your expression as it’s enough to make a conclusion: “Winter being intimidating? Come on now…”

“What?”

Karina rolls her eyes, laughing with your words and you paint a puzzled face alongside her chuckles. “Babe, don’t worry about Winter. If it’s anything, she’s cordial and approachable, just a little shy, alright?”

Right. 

“Now exactly tell me the real reason why you’re feeling uncomfortable working with her.” She knows you, reads you like a book she always bothers to read.

The truth unfolds, saying everything to Karina and this is what it really meant: you deemed to your life that you’ll never interact with Winter ever again just because of a predicament. Accidentally spilling copious amounts of milk tea on her skirt months ago is enough to tell the tale—it never really got better than that, and as soon as she glared at you and angrily left the cafeteria with her backpack, you know you introduced yourself in an atrocious way. It was embarrassing to say the least, interrupting her study time because of your clumsiness was the worst thing to ever happen, even though there’s like four people who saw the mess.

You apologized on the spot and never got a reply back. You even tried to contact her but to no avail, she doesn’t really respond. Ever since, you’ve tainted a picture that she’s grumpy and there’s no way on this planet she’ll forgive you (it’s probably childish but what can you do?).

“Wait, that sounded familiar…”

“Huh, how?”

You’re constantly in this puzzled state, expecting words that can surprise you at any moment. “No, coz like—Winter said this too the other day to me and let me tell you, it’s not really a bad thing but she can’t help but feel annoyed too.”

She’s down to earth, and it hurts. If you only knew this, then it would not besmirch her image to your brain. “Also, babe, she also wanted to apologize to you because of her attitude but she didn’t seem to contact you—what a destiny, huh?”

Your face paints visible shock and delight, a little baffled that she’s actually trying to contact you. You’d love to believe that Karina’s lying, but it’s one of the things she’ll do last, barely doing it with you. 

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, I can even call her right now—”

“Wait, wait, wait! Not yet!” You pout, eyebrows furrowing as you felt conflicted with the information she had given you. You don’t know what to genuinely feel—delight, relief, nervousness or embarrassment—but one thing’s for sure: you’d know Winter would be such an angel in disguise, clearly a good person all throughout.

Guess Karina’s words really shifted your view on Winter? Yes, that’s mostly her power against you.

“Why not? I am even here to sort the mess you made.”

“It’s not that, okay?” You sigh, facing her again as her cockiness is probably admirable knowing she can genuinely help you (she knows it). “I’ll just sort these things out with just Winter and I.”

You genuinely appreciate her efforts, helping you even though she sounds like it’s nothing much of a deal for her—that’s another element that you love about her, albeit her usual unserious self that’s sometimes intolerable (it’s rarely experienced, though). Even though she’s her close friend and having a supposedly close relationship, you wouldn’t need her to tolerate the fear of being beside Winter because of your own battles within yourself. 

This time, you’ll establish a greater relationship with her and you’ll do that for the sake of making such an ambitious project possible, leaving no doubts nor regrets.

---

Yes, it’s ambitious and clearly, a lot is on the line, especially your reputation as the highest member in the council and the stakes are even higher considering you're working with a person that’s an integral part of the council, another linchpin, as they say. You’d wonder why the director chose the both of you to possibly lead this proposal, but you’ll soon hope to leave those questionable thoughts in the gutter.

Luckily for you, you'll meet Winter again for like the third time (this time, it’s influenced by Karina and you thank her for that even though you said you won’t need her, yet you lied.), and hoping to talk through something to make yourselves truly comfortable with each other.

You tap your foot, fidget your fingers as you wait for her, looking at the distance in hopes for her appearance sooner. 

“Uhm, hi? Hi…” You looked onto your shoulder, bowed at each other, a little startled with the blonde fingure’s appearance and she seemed to be slightly bubblier than your last two meetings with her, and it’s probably the sole reason for Karina's effect with her words in accordance with you.

She’s no doubt, really shy yet actually approachable—guess she is breathing a different set of fresh air and you won’t even complain. “You, uhm… probably know why you’re here.”

You’re a little uneasy, teeth shivering a little as she nods, then appears that cute little pout that you find adorable in a way. “To talk about something?”

“Right.”

“Right.” Winter fixes her seat, you clear your throat and do the same thing as her, and now, you regain confidence and lock eyes to her. 

“I—uhm, yeah… I really want t—”

“No!” It was clear, falling onto your ears and you’re awkward within this given moment until she continued. “I should be the one apologizing… so I’m sorry for what's been with me for the past days.” Winter falls onto this shy demeanor of hers, flashing a coy smile while still maintaining eye contact with yours and deeply, you’re convinced.

Not really convinced in the way of knowing it’s all her fault (the incident was yours to blame) but in a way of convincing yourself that she’s this captivating to look at. You shouldn’t be distracted, your attention invested in taking this seriously but you just can’t just brush off the fact that she’s beautiful.

“No, no, this is bad—Karina’s gonna kill me—just talk with her and nothing else.” And so you did, fighting the urge of just being in awe with such a woman.

“Uhm—yeah, it’s fine, Winter… I’m sorry too if I just ruined your day back then—”

“No!”

“No?” You’re confused, questioning why she would say a confident “no”. She looks away, off the distance as she felt that her confidence fazed you, keeping her mellow voice audible again after such an enthusiastic approach. 

“I mean you did but like—I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that…”

You inch yourself a little closer, leaning an elbow onto the table and painting a smile, it’s growing and becoming more sincere and it reassures her, little by little. “Thanks, I’m sorry if I—like, introduced myself in such a bad way.”

Winter laughs and it’s contagious, doing it too at your own end as she tucks her blonde locks behind her ear, her eyes sparkling in interest and totally surging with keenness. “Hah… You know, actually, uhm—hoo… I found that a little hilarious.”

You clear your thoughts, raise your eyebrows and assess if you really heard her right—in fact, you really did and you just can’t fathom how she found such an embarrassing event would spark such little entertainment. “What do you mean, Winter?”

Winter sighs, looking down and possibly regretting what she said and it doesn’t help with your tone a little raised up (you’re not angry but at her end, she doesn’t like this and thinks the other way). “No, I-I don’t mean it in a bad way! Like, maybe a little bit but honestly, I felt a little bad too…”

She coats her embarrassment with words you can’t be sure if she’s sincere about or not, but one thing’s for sure, that she’s actually a great person to be with. You can feel how she’s like more vocal—Karina said that Winter isn’t much of a person that talks that much, and she also does it whenever she feels comfortable—and you like it and knowing she’s still hinting that miniscule shyness, you reassure her that you’re not mad about anything, but rather even finding your predicament a little hilarious too.

Guess the both of you are getting too comfortable with each other too fast than what you’ve expected.

“Not much of a thing?”

“Yes, Winter.” You grin, letting her know that what happened from the past prior to this moment wouldn’t be a hindrance in order to develop a friendly relationship with Winter, especially in these times where you’re going to experience working with her. You extend your arm a little onto the table as she eyes it, taking it as a move signifying your comfort. “Looking now, I think we’ll work well together.”

She’s probably fluttered hearing your words, hinting a faint blush onto her cheeks and looking down with the sudden surge of joy hitting her and of course, still sheepish. “I’m flattered you think that way.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

Winter paints that set of her dulcet smiles that you would grow accustomed to love because of how vibrant they are—you swear to god, her smiles alone can make your day better, alongside Karina’s too, of course. “I don’t know—everything feels much better right now that we’re just talking face to face.”

“And not with the pressure of anyone?” You assume that she felt much more comfortable with you knowing there’s no one around that will possibly judge or interrupt the both of you, compared to the last two meetings with the influence of the director and the people involved with this project. Also, as Karina said, Winter isn’t much of a first-initiative kind of girl and is often shy, so you wouldn’t blame her for being like the opposite of herself right now and you find this confidence of her amusing and great.

“I do think so…” Winter nods, knowing that having all eyes onto both of you and the others really defeats the purpose of being assured but knowing how this personality of hers can be her bane is enough to make yourself vocal about that judgment of yours. “But I do think that you should get used to this—like this kind of environment.”

Winter sighs, then averted her eyes back to yours. “Karina-unnie has been saying that too and yeah, I should consider that.”

“You know, Winter, it still baffles me that you’re friends with Karina.”

Winter’s mouth is ajar, a little shocked with your words. “Oh, how so?”

“I don’t really know but like, she barely talks about you whenever we’re together and is it the same at your end? If you don’t mind though.”

You could sense that she probably doesn't mind it and that’s a sigh of relief. Her amicable tone sets off the mood right, and that’s what matters. “I mean it’s pretty bare too, but I knew you before… like when you’re still in the lowest positions in the council.” 

You’re piqued and nodded with Winter’s enlightenment. Knowing this conversation will stir away to the supposed reason why the both of you are here, you let her know that and you’re just grateful that the two of you are getting comfortable with each other, and realized that the saying of “don’t judge the book by its cover” is always evident and factual.

“Uhm, by the way, about the uhm… the project we’re working on, I thought about an idea on how we can start it.”

Winter’s eyes sparkle in utter investment of her attention towards you, tilting her head and smiling as she mutters, “I actually have something in mind too but, lead the way, please.”

Maybe it all falls down to this moment, and you can’t wait what this day has in store for you. You never anticipated something so positively summarized for a conclusion, but of course, you’ll take these small victories and let yourself be invested with this ambitious endeavor.

---

You never knew how Winter and you could be so comfortable with each other, establishing a robust relationship after the both of you part ways and it ends up on a greater note, finally getting her number and having a greater contact than ever before. Of course, boundaries need to be tolerated and it's further shown by her, knowing how respectful she is because of her awareness between you and Karina.

And it’s not like Winter’s that type of a homewrecker, but you could never be so sure since you barely knew her. Albeit all of that, you protest to the thought that Winter’s going onto that route, her modest and friendly personality says so and you could feel how genuine it is.

Well, it is a great day but nothing’s going to fulfill such greatness without laying your eyes on indisputably, the most beautiful person that ever walked on this earth, inches away from her and you’re captivated with her presence whenever she’s around.

Her voice resonates around your ear, and instantly, you curled up a smile. “Long day?”

You sip on your drink, then let out a sigh with her words. “Possibly, yeah…”

Karina sees this as something that can be considered alarming, your sighs deep enough to make her think of an assumption that you’re probably lying. “You alright? You seem like, pft… unsatisfied.”

“Okay, honestly, I’m just tired and I’ll be like this most of the time…” Karina understands this, with your current responsibility with such a hierarchical position deems such exhausting endeavors possible. You’re grateful for having a thoughtful girlfriend like her who perceives things thoroughly, and you’ll be thankful with that. “Anyways, this flavor rocks by the way—what flavor is this?”

“Dark mocha frappe—just how you like it, babe…” You smile knowing these small victories are wholesome, even knowing how you like your frappes is a great thing.

“I owe you something then, no?” Karina’s mouth is agape, shocked and playfully becomes mad, feeling her efforts aren’t taken seriously by you. You then laughed with her frisky retorts, her face painted with little annoyance and shocked is such a sight to see, further teasing her as she replies. “No! Yah, why do you think like I’m owing you something most of the time?”

You sip, humming in satisfaction with the strong, sweet taste as you laughed right after. “Sometimes, I just feel like it but anyways, thanks, Rina.”

Karina’s demeanor shifted into those glowing eyes of hers, in awe with your amicable words that made her a little shy. “Anyways, how’d it go, babe?”

You paused for seconds, taking another sip as you flash a smile, full of vanity on how the events unfolded and she knows exactly what you’ll say. “Pretty great, honestly—never knew Winter would be such a great girl to talk with.”

Karina continuously stirred her light-colored frappuccino, sipping on it and then faced you, mouthing the words, “Told ya, she’s a great girl.”

She places the cup onto the marbled table, approaching you and palms your shoulder with a caressing touch and she continues. “Glad my girl’s doing well, honestly—this is such a great opportunity for her, and for you.” 

Then Karina’s eyes dart onto yours, a breath brushing against your lips as she smirks, and you know that her façade is possibly ambiguous right now. “Why get too dangerously close, Rina?”

Karina chuckles, eyes off the distance then back to yours, her tone a little interrogative. “Is it just bad for me to feel happy for the both of you, hm, babe?”

“Right, Rina…” You’re a bit sarcastic, as she pulls away a little bit, and retorts playfully against you. 

“Yah! Anyways, I just missed being this close to you, y’know?” You can sense how much she missed these intimate and wholesome moments with you, probably neglecting these because of your own endeavors which seem to not meet its demise. You’re subtly complaining, but it’s now a part of you, so you will bear with it and live with your responsibilities as a hierarchical linchpin. 

You won’t miss out on chances like this, opportunities lingering within your hands’ reach is a must. “I missed this too, Rina.”

Tilt her chin and then you indulge onto that apotheotic act—lips clashed onto yours; tongues tangled as its carnal instinct. Every second that counts delves deeper into killing that deprivation that roamed all over your bodies, and instantly, found that longing gem that’s been buried for quite some time—satisfaction.

She brought the light of your dying star, and you’re welcoming her abilities to bend the laws of physics—normally, this sounds impossible and immoral, yet ambiguously speaking, she can probably ignite that feeling again.

“Kiss me more—kiss me more, baby…” Pecks and its resonating sounds fill the air, the love emanating all throughout sets up the mood vibrantly and you got to thank Karina for that. 

You just reciprocated, can’t be bothered to translate your feelings through words and she succumbs to the feeling. Your lips pepper hers just right, insatiable with the way you run your expertise and cupping her cheeks is a great leverage. Her hands just roams its way onto your waist, tracing your abdomen then inadvertently (there’s a high chance it’s not), she hikes up the hem of your shirt until you stop her.

“Calm down for a second, Rina.”

“But I can’t, baby…” She wants it, but there’s more ways to do it before achieving such a climax, and you’re voicing it out with no hesitation.

“Let us finish these foods and drinks first, no?”

Karina pouts, an audible hml can be heard as she knows you have a valid point. “Fine then, but after this, we gotta dive for more.”

You chuckle, knowing where this will descend into. “Whatever you want, my love.”

Karina’s eyes just widened with your given name towards her, and you knew you picked her locks with it.

“Clever minds could bear such blessings in the smallest things.”

---

There’s nothing denying this, not even God himself—you’re way too in love with Karina. It’s such a blessing getting yourself in a position where you can be intimate with your movements, peppering her with kisses up to her abdomen or even going over the roof. Yet now is just full of warmth, her embrace against yours is something you’ll cherish, even engaging into deeper, warmer cuddles as her head rests onto your shoulder.

“It’s going to be a big event tomorrow, ain’t it, babe?”

“Not really, big, but like—” You tuck her hair behind her ear, endeared with her beauty as you can't help but just be in awe but you continue. “—mostly a crucial part for us, probably.”

The both of you are under the covers, feeling each other’s heat and the lingering feeling of the attachment she’s been longing for, caressing her hands onto your bare skin and moaning a little with her enchanting and sensitive touch. You let Karina go berserk, suckling onto your collarbones and your neck, kissing it with a renowned fervor and her actions just makes you feel something that you’re possibly dying to feel in a long while. “You know babe—mwah, hm, thinking of that, we should probably hangout or some sort…”

You paint that puzzled face, averting her attention towards you with a touch on her shoulder and is eager to clarify what she’s trying to say. “What do you mean? We’re hanging out right now, no?”

Karina chortles, hands now roaming onto your arms as she replies, “Not that babe… I’m thinking about us with Winter.”

That name just becomes a ring onto your brain, and you ultimately poised yourself in a different approach whenever she calls that name out. “Why involve Winter with this? What are you try—”

Karina shushes you with a finger, your eyes widening with her actions as her reassuring tone calms your mind. “Come on, just trust me, babe—think of this as a way for the both of you to be more comfortable with each other, okay?”

The emphasis is clearly something underlying suspicion, but nonetheless, you know Karina wants the best for both worlds, and it’s up for you to seal the deal. She still maintains eye contact with you, chin resting against the upper part of your sternum as her eyes glisten with anticipation, an anticipation with your words needing to complete the puzzle.

“So, what do you say?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you gaze back to her. “Promise me this isn’t something I will be worried about, alright?”

Another chuckle, and Karina’s confidence fades your uneasiness. “Why would I make you feel like that? Of course not.”

You trust her, you ultimately do and she knows she won’t let yourself be in the brink of harm or anything that can make you feel anxiety. “Okay then, I’d love to see your dynamics with Winter too…”

You both laugh faintly, as she kissed your collarbone and averted those orbs of hers towards yours for the umpteenth time. “Oho, there’s a lot and gosh, I’m excited for tomorrow…”

You yawn, almost burying yourself onto the pillows that signifies your drowsiness. “You know, I should probably sleep now, Karina—tomorrow’s a long day.”

“For both of us too…” Karina adds, and her hands tuck your hair behind your ear, then muttering the words, “Good night, baby.”

“Good night too, Rina.” You kissed her on the lips again, and then pulled away, matching her energy as she laughed and became more flustered because of it. 

“You know that I love you so much, right, babe?”

“Of course, I love you too—like, so much, Rina.”

You pulled her into another torrid kiss, her hands finding your neck as you indulged for more and god, this felt like it would never stop, until dawn.

Not going to lie, whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll look forward to it and you’re reassured knowing it’s Karina within your side. A great way to end this day is probably another animalistic approach and you can’t be bothered to make yourself deprived with that.

Or is it?

The night is still young, and limits are still onto the horizon on what’s possible to do…

---

It was one hell of a night, mostly in the excitement of missing each other’s intimate presence and the little bonds that you’d take as a win. You’ll eventually receive texts from Winter which you eagerly responded to, feeling butterflies whenever you reply and it’s one of the best things to happen nowadays.

You’re getting ready for the first milestone on this day, and the best way to encounter a nuisance is a buzz from your phone, coming from Karina.

katarina_for_u at 13:14 - “I’ll be just meeting the both of you outside the university’s grounds, ok?”

You’re a little surprised, knowing she probably has a class at this given time frame, and possibly ending before the sun settles. 

You reply, “Don’t you have a class right now?”

You wait for a little while, before you can see Karina typing again and anticipating her answer.

katarina_for_u at 13:15 - “Well, it’s actually postponed and ㅠㅠ I forgot to say it to you…” 

You won’t mind that honestly and see it as an absolute win. You never felt those little triumphs in you once she texted that, and you could never start yourself standing so proudly. You didn’t mind it that much once she said that she never told you about it, so you replied back only for another notification popping up onto your phone and that averted your attention.

kim_winter at 13:18 - “Hi! I’ll be waiting for you in the AVR, the right side of the seats, a little in front. See you!”

These girls have their own appeal and you’re just in shambles with it. Winter’s amicable tone when texting is something adorable, you may even say it’s opposite to what you’ve thought of her prior to yesterday’s meeting. You can really sense growing that attachment towards her within your friendly relationship with her, and that’s all that matters, whether it’s benefiting inside the university or solely just expanding your circle. 

And it’s just great for your popularity and how you’ll see things—clearly, knowing a lot of people will help you with improving your social skills and the way you approach them, or even strangers.

Yet the circle is mostly sequestered between the three of you, concealed from the others and you’ll live with that most of the time.

You reply back to Winter while brushing your teeth, and you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling that confidence in you and the trust within you on what this day can offer.

Really, you’re just in the tip of the iceberg…

---

“Never knew there’ll be so many people in here, Winter.”

Winter bites her lips, playing with her lips as she nods slowly. “Yeah, and it’ll be a long one too…”

You could already sense the boredom laced within her voice, and it’s going to be the battle on who’s going to be utterly invested at the of the event (not going to lie, you’ll probably will be interested in this but you wouldn’t lie to your teeth to say this won’t delve down onto such ennui). 

Your eyes wander around the people that’s taking their seats and the people working behind the scenes of the event. You do that for a few more seconds, then check on your phone and then scroll onto the endless blue light it emits, then at the end, earn a smile or possibly, a faint chuckle.

Winter then interrupts you with a light tap onto your shoulder, and immediately, you turn off your phone and shift your attention to her. “Anyways, did Karina tell you something about us three like—hanging out or some sort?”

You fake a cough, covering your mouth with a tight fist as your eyes widen, amused with the fact that she’s also aware of what’s going to happen after this (Karina and her have connections, so it’s not surprising to bear such news to the very least). “Yeah, yeah—actually she said it first to me and had that first thought but like…”

You produce this vacuum-like sound, which can be considered tinnitus or some sort and then bite your lip as Winter anticipates, “Like what?”

You scoff, averting your eyes to her, “Like do you really like this? Like, if you would hang out with us, would you?”

Winter hitches a breath, scoffing too as she feels like your question sounds a little dumb since the answer is probably obvious. “Tch, o-of course! You know, I really wanted to know more about you and Karina is such a great friend to hang out with—I can just see ourselves in a win.”

Totally convinced right from the start of her tone, you nod slowly and have yourself some peace of mind, knowing Winter is eager to do this. 

This coursing sensation within you distracts you, and it’s like a bugbear you can’t seem to get rid off—and still, the peace of mind is still faux. This is risky for a girl like her to know such things you want to address, even if it’s some sort of an enigma that has some double meaning. Your mind is shouting at you to do it and with the fire in you ready to burst out, you knew it was time but you’re going to play safer.

“Winter…”

“Yeah?” She continued viewing her eyelashes onto her phone, and then averting those alluring eyes of hers to you.

“You know Karina’s one hell of a girl, y’know?” Your eyes feel weightful, head tilted by a little and weirdly enough, she’s piqued on what you’re trying to imply.

“Like in what way?... Like something crazy, wild or—”

“That!” You exclaim a little-too-loud as you paint a sheepish façade, and then brushed off when no one possibly hears your tone’s ebullience. “Sorry, like that—oh gosh, how would you know?”

Winter’s face is confused, but eventually, got the grip on what hit your buttons. “So wait… her being wild? Am I right?.... Like…”

“Yeah, that, actually…” You feel a little ashamed of why you’re bringing this out, and eagerly apologize. “God, I’m sorry for bringing this out…”

Winter’s hands roam to your shoulder, reassuring you that it’s not really that taboo at her end. “Oh no no, actually, Karina-unnie’s other side is pretty common on my end too…”

Honestly, right now, you’re fucking shocked on how she is straightforward, composed and not even disgusted to the slightest. You felt yourself on the edge of a cliff but saved with how she took this possibly embarrassing conversation effortlessly. You sighed in relief and your curiosity’s at an all-time high right now. 

“Oh wow, I thought you'd be like weirding out—”

“Oh, hah…” Winter scoffed, rejuvenating herself with a light shake of her head, eyebrow raising and then down, as she continued, “Maybe if it’s the other girls, then probably that will end there but not me…”

You don’t know why, but you admire her composed demeanor and you love it. Your mouth is slightly ajar, still rendering how she’s taking this so calm. “You don’t mind if I ask how often she’s sharing something like this?”

“Honestly, it’s pretty rare and please don’t get mad if I say something like this, alright?”

You fixed your posture, cleared your throat, welcoming every word that comes out of her mouth with open arms. “It’s fine, you can share it, Winter.”

“She talks about you, on those given times too…”

Oh god, you were expecting it in the slightest, but you’re still baffled with that given fact and it’s evident with the gasp you let out.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry—god, please don’t—just keep this thing within us three, okay?” You’re a little weary, nervous too with the fact that Winter knows the factual sin between you and Karina but she assures you that everything’s going to be fine.

“I can assure you every secret with me is safe, and I will never tell anyone about this thing you’re having with Rina-unnie.”

At least she’s something to rely on with her given words, at least, for what you heard. “Ohh… glad it’s tight shut for anyone to know.”

“Truly, truly.” You should start and trust her, gain that building faith towards her and this is a great start and the best part here is her genuine approach.

Even if it’s just this quick for the both of you to be too comfortable, it’s just in the right pace considering having attachments with Karina eased both of your socializations with each other.

You just pray to god that the secret never sees the light of day. Hopefully…

---

Sun’s starting to set, hours have been spent on something that’s probably helpful, to the very least knowing that you've learnt something and it goes the same with Winter. Your lazy ass wouldn’t appear onto these kinds of events if you weren’t having a name for yourself.

But those flew away from the fabric of time, and all that matters is between the three of you and what Karina has in store for the both of you. You walk with Winter out of the halls of the conference building and onto the parking lot, escorting her and you immediately give her the green light to be your passenger for this night.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

You scoff, “Of course, Winter—you gotta go to the backseat though, if you don’t mind it.”

“Of course, it’s not much of a deal—thanks anyways.”

These small things of appreciation makes your heart flutter, and you’re liking her even more—her respect towards you grows exponentially, and it’s an element you’d grow accustomed to adore. 

You open the door, and let her in like a princess as she playfully remarks, “Oh~ thank you… such a gentleman.”

“Small thing, Winter.” You can see the evident fluster up her cheeks, and you took it as a genuine reply with your actions.You closed her door and got up to your seat as a ding piques your attention.

katarina_for_u at 18:03 - “Fetch me at the resto just meters after the first turn of the university gates. See you, babe ;)”

It’s short and sweet, enough to curl your lips up to a genuine grin. You let Winter know about this, and she just nodded with that ramping vigor, feeling faintly excited with what’s going to happen.

You’re forming this judgment of thrill, anticipation in an all time high.

You’d expect the best to come and it’s yet to extract that ingenuity within you, an emotion sincere.

---

So, everything was just according to her plan? Walking together around and then ending it up with some nice dinner in some classy restaurant was something she was planning? Well, it surely won’t end so anticlimactic even though you enjoyed the talks you had with these beautiful women—some are engaging, little-to-no chances of dull topics and enjoyed it all throughout.

It was pretty tiring right now but not when you’re around them—you feel this surge of energy coursing within you everytime, filling up your tank.

“Oh, unnie’s choices are amazing. From food to places, wow…” 

Karina laughs with Winter’s subtle compliments even though some are probably laced with sarcasm, and you laugh with their playful banters and conversations while keeping your focus on the road. How could they act such dorks and be so unserious when they look like the most modest people that had walked on this planet—maybe, the dualities do wonders and it’s such a great contrast.

“You don’t have to wear something so elegant, Rina.”

“Why not?” Karina’s tone is uplifting, curious on why you would ask such a thing. “This is not even that elegant, but just enough for something classy…”

“Unnie’s probably making herself look more beautiful for you.” Winter adds to the spice of the conversation, which she felt proud with and chuckled right after. Karina’s probably blushing right now with what she had said and given the enlightenment, she’s probably riding with that motive.

Karina pretends to be annoyed with Winter’s remarks, and keeps the vibe lively and delightful as possible. “Yah! I just wanted to dress like this, don’t you like it?”

You’re not going to lie, in every outfit she wears, she kills it everytime and there’s nothing she can’t pull off because of how she’s a natural breed in the world of fashion but you stand with what you said—this looks way too classy but you’re not complaining, she even looks stunning and surreal with this outfit.

“Well, I guess there’s something we needed to do to conclude this day.”

Both you and Winter’s faces contort onto this bewildered expression, utterly curious too as you asked what’s on her mind. 

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll stay at your place for the night—you know, to have some fun, haha…”

That chuckle is nothing close to being innocent. You and Winter probably know this other nature of Karina, and you know this fun she’s describing is involving something that’s off the charts.

You’re hesitant and didn’t lose your focus, a little perplexed why Karina would choose your place for the three of you to stay. “I don’t know, Karina—if you’re pulling up something again, it’ll better to your—”

“Please, babe?” Her tone is enough to make yourself feel endeared and mostly, convinced. Gladly, you can’t see her doe eyes pleading for you or else, you could have lost it and given in immediately—either way, you’ll eventually fall for her spell because she’s that irresistible.

“Okay, it’s fine—but whatever you have in mind, there’s no turning back, alright?” You plant this mischievous smirk curling up your lips and immediately, she knows what you’re talking about even though it wasn’t anything straightforward.

It’s the lust that powers her, and inadvertently, you steal glances with Winter on the front mirror, raising both eyebrows as she knows what’s up with Karina’s plans.

“Of course, well you gotta get that beast ready.”

Right, like you thought about earlier.

---

Events unfolded like the speed of light and it’s deemed to be factual, as actions could make time flow faster than usual. Now at your place, there wasn’t much of something with an introduction and only so subtly. Winter eyes your place and commends how simple and neat everything is and as usual, Karina was frankly remarking everything you needed to know, and how Winter is something more than what you already thought—also, it was clear that she was still naïve with what’s underlying the real thing and everything behind it.

Winter’s shy with Karina’s boldness and she’s not denying anything. All of your assumptions of Winter being just like any other girl was fading as soon as Karina unravels her other nature.

It was a bold and a truthful assumption from your side, clearly thinking that she was all innocent but you never thought the fact her duality can be deceiving. You can’t blame yourself to think Winter just has the same energy as Karina, and the stars could never align so perfectly. You’re also lost within the thought, touching Karina intimately, hands running down her waist as you handle her with that ramping aggression until she stops and inches herself away from you.

Of course everything starts with a little hint of spice, their dispositions clearly shifting and you assure yourself that you’ll get used to both of them being in their own nature with their given sides. 

“Care to eye for some starters, Winter?” Karina raises an eyebrow, clearly willing for an aid to her fantasies.

Winter is thinking, lost in the thought deeply as seconds come by until she parts her lips, “I would want some, yes…”

You thought she wouldn’t care for that, but a visual representation would be the safer bet as echoing what’s said earlier, she's still clearly oblivious about the real thing, assuming the lack of her knowledge of how these things work.

She wouldn’t be up in the ranks if it weren’t for her intelligence, so that assumption was deemed to be proven false.

Karina kneels, looking at you, through your soul as she talks to you about it. “Don’t cum that fast, I’m going to put on a show for Winter here.”

You chuckle, clearly letting herself get ahead and over, and subconsciously admiring her playful intent. “Bold for you to assume that, huh?”

Karina’s mischievous grin was the last thing she flashes you before she could get onto work. The air permeates the cool breeze but is later rivaled with her hands onto your boxers, finger twirling onto your conspicuous tent teasingly. She wouldn’t waste such precious time just to tease a man like you and to her own defense, you’re clearly insatiable.

Both up to the like, every second is golden and shouldn’t wasted—

Karina pulls your boxers down, and down to your ankles they go and kick it off just to the side, deeming it worthless and just a nuisance with your aching tent. You coo with the coldness and moan once she places her hand onto your vigorated length, clearly stroking it to elevate the pleasure.

“Look, Winter…” Karina strokes you in need, spitting onto your cock as every twist and dexterous movements is taken down as a note by Winter, and you can just see her eyes shine with lust and amusement. “See what I’m doing? You just need to rile things up first.”

And she didn’t miss.

Karina’s tongue swirls around the red-purplish crown, and a shudder is your response as well as a faint moan that strokes her ego and a signal of approval. She withdrew her touch from yours and faced Winter, “Your bright mind would take notes of these without my words, hm?”

Karina’s tone wakes Winter up from her not-so-apparent trance of drool, looking at her with such adorable and innocent intent as a nod follows. “Yes, I can, Rina…”

“Call me your unnie for now, would you?” Her face exudes utter seduction, clearly built to be like a charismatic vixen while she asks Winter about this little name-calling. 

Winter nods and Karina curls up a satisfied smirk. “Good… Also, just ask my boyfriend what do you want to call him.”

You’re a little perplexed, unable to even be a step ahead of how you want to be addressed for this moment and with a conclusion, you’d like to see Winter try.

Winter’s eyes expand by a little, hands fidgeting the hem of her jacket as you know how shy she is, given how Karina’s actions are making things awkward but she manages to not let those battles be a hindrance. “How do you want to be called?”

You gulp and try to clear your mind, possibly fighting the urge to moan with Karina’s enervating touches while talking to Winter. “Just call me daddy, okay?”

Winter’s eyes are alluring and those scintillations proved that fact, and you smirk with her apparent nod and with her coy smile. You find your hands combing and caressing Karina’s hair as she slobbers all around your length, hungry and desperate to put a memory for Winter that she would remember until the end of time.

You don’t need to invest into some extensive research to know if Winter’s enjoying this, her subsequent lip bites and eyes laser-focused onto the bobbing figure is enough evidence. 

Karina’s supreme display of talent shows and she knows how to get it done. Picture this, crystal clear: She’s alternating between strokes onto your base and furious bobs, the incredible stimulation of your balls with her hands and the lathered drool seeping out of the caldera of her mouth and all over to her pants. 

The nigh-absence of gag reflex makes the sight even more hotter (the numerous blowjob sessions with her helped a lot) as it allows for more opportunities to display her limits, and so she does.

She’s taking you fully, nose flushed onto your lower abdomen and closing her eyes, testing how far and long she can be in this state. It’s probably eight or ten seconds that had passed and she’s not pulling out, and you decided to do the little game of asphyxiation. Her hands grip your thighs for leverage, nails digging deeper as you pinch her nose, blocking her airways.

It stays for a few more seconds until she’s flushed red, and the inevitable is bound to happen: pulling out of your length and gasping desperately for oxygen.

“Hah—w-what are you doing?” Karina’s visible frustration sends you chuckling, and you reassure and let her know something.

“Don’t you always want that, Rina?”

“God—” Karina hitches a breath, clicking her tongue and she looks up at you, eyes in contact with laced vexation. “—don’t do that! I’m putting up a show for Minjeong here!”

“Hey, uhm—it’s totally fine…” Winter butts in, putting up a halt on an escalating argument as you and Karina’s eyes widen, interesting with the fact that she wants these kinds of stuff.

“You don’t mind the little asphyxiating play?” You ask her, a little bothered by the fact she probably doesn’t like the fetishes. “I’m sorry if it’s—”

“No, it’s really fine!” Winter’s reassuring and bubbly tone makes you conclude up the final verdict, and a sigh leaves your lips regarding that. “I wanna see from you daddy, and Rina-unnie…”

Karina’s hands stroke your rock-hard shaft as the sudden action makes you avert your attention towards her, and her expressions just signifies hubris. You let her know Winter’s wants, and you don’t want it unattended. “You heard her, Rina.”

Karina hisses, and smiles faintly, directing towards Winter. “Use your words, Winter.”

“Please unnie, suck him off.” You heard it loud (mostly it’s faint, but who cares) and clear yet Karina has other plans.

“Can’t quite hear you princess…”

Winter gulps, parting her lips as she raises her voice, “Please suck daddy off, unnie! Want to see everything and your skills, unnie s-so—please!”

This egotistic slut. When in bed, Karina’s becoming a totally different person, gone are her bubbly and loving personalities once she gets to feel or even see your throbbing cock and it’s such an unbreakable spell. 

Knowing Winter’s words is sincere enough, Karina won’t let her deprive off her needs of a tutorial as she takes you in, slowly and sloppier than ever.

A clench, she grips you tighter. A touch, she gives more. A moan, she ups the pace. It’s a given cycle, a wheel spinning around, repeating the patterns that you could never get tired of.

You’re lost under her control yet Winter’s voice piques your attention. “Daddy, why doesn’t unnie gag that much?”

Well, the conclusion is mostly approved—she wasn’t so naïve about these things, huh? 

Your groan, taking a second before you could respond, “Well, Winter—your slutty unnie right here has been blowing my dick for numerous times that she just grew accustomed to it.” Your eye contact with Winter was something enchanting, genuinely delightful seeing how interested Winter is before averting your attention again to the slobbering picture of Karina impaling her throat with your entire length. “You see the way she bobs her head, taking me down fully? That’s how you know she’s a slut for my cock.”

Even if Karina protests, truth is too powerful to be hidden and she wouldn’t pull out to your permeating succulence just because she wants to retaliate in words. 

Karina just dugs deep, messier and god, the sight is turning Winter on so much—knees meeting each other, feet apart as her face just defines lust with the sight.

Curiosity still imbues through Winter, willing to learn from the both of you. “Gagging is just normal when you’re inexperienced, right, daddy?”

You nod, a reassuring action that lets her know about the wonders of such a show. “It’s completely normal—fuck, right, yeah it’s normal, Winter.”

Winter nods as her eyes continue to watch Karina with her oral expertise, pleasuring you with such talent that you can’t define how stupendous she is when she’s on her knees. As much as you like to probably paint her throat white, or the immediate besmirchment of that angelic visage of hers, Winter is the star here and Karina is just a tool for learning.

You tap Karina’s shoulder, and she obliges quickly, knowing how she shouldn’t be rewarded right after. Karina just stands up, looking at you as you giggle, marveling with the fact she did put up one hell of a show for Winter. “You’ll get your reward later, Karina.”

Karina parts her mouth, shaped like an ‘O’ as her eyebrows are raised from the shock. “You know it’ll be better for Winter right here—you’ve rewarded me plenty of times already…”

Karina’s confidence is through the roof, and it’s just a great recipe to be a mentor for an inexperienced Winter.

“Come here, Winter.” Winter stands up from her seat, coming closer to the both of you as immediately, Karina commanded her to kneel down in which she obliges. “You can take it easy first, and when you feel like diving for more, let yourself be, is that clear, Winter?”

Winter nods, pouting her lips as she looks up to you and then, towards her. “Mhm, yes, unnie.”

“Good.” Karina pats Winter on the head, caressing those blonde locks of hers and Karina averted her attention to you, straightforward and clearly leaning for you to handle Winter with care. “And you, use your words, okay? Minjeong likes being praised—strokes her ego definitely, hm?”

You smirk, hubristic towards Karina’s remarks, “Of course I am, and you Winter—” You caress her porcelain cheeks, admiring those innocent face of hers, as she looks up to you, clearly hungry and shy yet you have faith with what she can bring to the table. “—you’ll do great, have trust in you.”

Winter analyzes your length, eyeing every inch as she blows nervous breaths because of what she’s going to be tackling. You saw this and reassured her with your actions of playing with those pigtails, and Karina vocalizes her assurance through words. “You got this Winter, trust yourself.”

A simple nod is what it took before she took a hold of your shaft, from the base and got herself ready for what’s bound to happen. She parts her lips, kissing the head of your cock and you moan with the sensitivity she brings. She alternates between licks and kisses which eventually became redundant, and you wouldn’t complain since you wanted Winter to be comfortable around your length.

She takes your full tip, Karina motivating her with such praise that was evident with the way she works around you. “Great start, Winter, great fucking start.”

Winter hums, vibrations sending waves of gratification all over you as she dives in deeper, then bobbing her head with such a slow pace that you wouldn’t mind. She closes her eyes, feeling every movement devoted to wring out the pleasure within you and it’s effective—she’s a natural at this.

Her tongue works well for a rookie like her, constantly licking your head while she works up her pace moderately. You could feel a little bit of that tooth of her, and you wouldn’t mind that given the fact that it compliments the pleasure she brings—you got that masochistic side in you, too. 

“You can hollow your cheeks if you want, or you can go deeper and keep that pace…” Karina mouths her suggestions, as she bites her lips with Winter’s oral endeavors, absolutely marveling her sullied face full of her spit. She does what Karina told her, coming up on a conclusion that it would elevate both of your experiences with the given situation. 

She does wonders around your throbbing length, creating a vacuum as she hollows those puffy cheeks of hers, and you can sense how she’s been wanting for god knows how long. 

Karina chuckles with your current disposition, succumbs and drowns in the state of bliss but clearly fighting it. If Karina would know how soft, tight and pleasurable Winter is doing around your lengty then wouldn’t be laughing as such.

“Use your words.” Karina tells you, imperatively, about how you can tame Winter and how you can use your advantage against her, benefiting the both of you.

“Such a good girl, Winter—fuck, that’s great.” You can’t manage to lock a gaze onto her bobbing blur, clearly being lost with the pleasure as you savor every second of it. 

Winter achieves greater depths, and eventually, she gagged and tried to tame it but in the end, wasn’t deemed successful.

“Oh shi—fuck, I’m sorry, daddy…” Winter catches her breath, face flushed red as she apologizes more about her sudden testing of her limits. You tilt her chin up, facing you as you smile with her skills given her inadequacy on the real scope of things.

“It’s fine, Winter—you did such a great job for me.”

“Yes, he’s right—you did a fantastic job, Minjeong.” Karina smiled mischievously, patting the back of her head and Winter felt more flustered with it, ears with a rosy hue as both your compliments boosts her mood. 

“I’ll always be a great girl for daddy…” 

She will be. 

Winter gains that confidence, immediately taking you in, more sloppier than before as her pace is fast enough to make a mess out of her mouth. She took mental note from earlier, fondling your balls in aims to draw your orgasm closer, to the edge and you admire her initiative. You continue to caress her blonde locks, even tugging onto those nicely-tied pigtails of hers as Karina whispers in her ear, urging her to do more and make you even writhe under her oral control.

“Swirl your tongue, Winter. Stroke his cock too while you’re at it—he loves it.” You sure do. 

Winter’s tongue dances around the length of your shaft, as her other hand pumps your shaft in an alternating pattern with her bobs. Up, down, then left and right, the sight down below looks like a dream—no one could possibly know how an innocent looking secretary would be such a cockhungry woman and honestly, you’re here for it.

Karina lifts Winter’s chin up, making her break the trance of solely closing her eyes to feel everything, and maintaining that eye contact that you always wanted.

“There you go, he likes it too when both eyes have contact.” You sure do, again. Winter’s eyes glisten under the moderately vibrant lights the room brings, maintaining such eye contact while bobbing her head repeatedly with an intent to please you. You caress her chin and play with hair, even brushing off some strands that get onto her beautiful and ruined countenance. 

Winter gags frequently but she fights it, taming and pushing what she can do and that alone, earns a commending action from her.

She pulls out of her tight encapsulation, eyes lost within yours as she mutters faintly and desperately, “Did I do good, daddy?”

Fuck. They way looked at you, adorably and begging to be ruined could never go wrong. Karina strokes her head, proud for what she's done as you say your own judgment. “Of course you did, Winter—you’re a natural at this…”

The final touch elicits a moan from Winter that makes your cock throb. It was worse when Winter found your length again, handling it and resuming what she’d started.

While being impaled with your shaft inside her heavenly mouth, Winter looks to her right, focused onto Karina as Karina mouthed the words that drop the green light. “Keep sucking him, okay? I’ll make out with him while you’re busy.”

Winter just nods and smiles, mouth full of your cock as your attention is diverted towards Karina, her seductive never failing to make you fall for her as she knows how desperate she became once she saw Winter’s blowjob image.

“Can’t really resist me, huh, Rina?”

She laughs as her hands find their way to your back, inches close towards you as she mouthed such alluring words—her tone clearly helping. “Of course how can I? I can’t just watch my friend here and you having all of the fun yourselves.”

You shake your head, looking at the distance and then back to her eyes, endeared with her scent. “But you literally just sucked my cock like three minutes ago.”

As selfish as she is, you have a point with that yet the three of you deserve equal treatments of pleasure. Karina punches you a little, before maintaining another contact with her that just prepares her for what’s going to happen. “It doesn’t matter—just kiss me, will you?”

Those are words that won’t be left unattended. You push your lips against her, clearly resonating your love and lust for her as every clash results into moans and hums that orchestrate such fine music. The reciprocation was evident, clearly starved with your taste and yearning for more. 

Winter hears all of the cacophonous sounds the both of you make, and she would match the energy the both of you emit. So, without a doubt, she takes you deeper, almost touching the base as she gags and controls herself, fondling your balls with such intent to draw you into your own Achilles’ heel. You sensed what she’s trying to do, resulting in deepening the kiss with Karina, torrid and sloppier as the both of you danced your tongues against each other for the sake of supplementing each other’s deprivation.

The scene is getting hotter than hell, and the scene is portrayed like this: Winter’s hands are just digging her nails deeper onto your thighs as she takes you in, pulling out in random intervals and then taking you in again; such hot exchanges of intimate kisses between you and Karina, even making a mess on both your mouths. Every second is up to all your likings, every movement is deriving pleasure up to the bone, and Karina’s being bolder by the second, unbuttoning your long-sleeved polo and undressing your tie.

She’s swift with it and you could’ve stopped her if you wanted to, but you didn’t care as long as Winter’s worshiping your cock and Karina’s lips tangled against yours.

It’s unholy and angelic, best of both worlds and it’s the first paramount.

Karina pulls out as the both of you exchange breaths, satisfied with such liplocking as her eyes averted towards Winter, who’s been gurgling on your length for minutes now.

“Look at you, Winter! Oh, you’re so messy—lipstick stained onto his shaft, tears flowing down your cheek and the drool—the fucking drool all over it.” Karina is astonished with Winter’s hunger, and the both of you are proud of what delved into, to the point of no-return.

The tumultuous moans of pleasure may seem to meet in a halt, feeling the familiar sensation onto your groins coming closer exponentially as each second passes by.

You’re vocal about it, and Karina seizes this as an opportunity for a choice: “Hear that, Winter? He’s close—so close to cumming.”

“Mhmm—ghh” Inaudible sounds just came out of Winter's mouth, but Karina’s smart enough to decipher and translate such messages. You can’t stop your moans and faint pleas, running your hands through Winter’s locks as you succumb deeper, closer to the promised land.

“Where do you want to finish and give your reward to our princess right here?”

It took you a second, and you stood by it, never hesitating, “Want our pretty Winter here be rewarded beautifully—probably just going to add to the mess her face has right now.”

You always loved painting, especially on a pulchritude of a canvas begging to be spoiled with your own artwork.

Winter pulls out strings of saliva adding to the filthiness as Karina commands her to aid your impending orgasmic high, “Stroke that cock, princess—aim it right at you and embrace it.”

Winter just nods, unable to utter words as her sole focus is to wring out the seed of her hard work, and it’s just within her grasp.

You’re shooting, cumming all over the fine visage of hers, and you repeatedly moan in increasing decibels for such euphoria. Nose, cheeks, hair, neck, even her clothes—you name everything your cum landed on and she’s entirely grateful about it, humming soundly as she gratified to even taste your sweet seed.

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Karina interrupts, and Winter smiles at her gleefully as she loves what just happened. 

“I like daddy’s delicious cum, unnie—hah, I n-never thought this could feel great.” An exasperated blow leaves her lips, her hands still tasting the cum that’s painted on her and she still keeps that vibrant, sincere smile since the start. You commanded her to stand up and she does what she’s told, quickly getting up and helping her a little, and expectedly, Karina interrupts with sin spilling out of her very lips. “You know that we’re still not done, right, Winter?”

She gazes at the cum-glistened Winter, eyes meeting hers as her aura alone intimidates the both of you, most likely yours. Winter pouts her lips, looking down as she faints a reply, “Of course, unnie…”

Karina nods, parting her lips as she turns back to you and you anticipate what can come out of her lips. “Tell her what you want to experience, Winter.”

Winter’s lips quiver, eyebrows furrowed as she felt the slightest of that progressing nervousness. “I want to f-feel you, daddy…”

You grab her wrists, leaning her petite frame towards you, dangerously close as you run your fingers through her fair complexion, cleaning her off and then directing it onto her mouth. She obliges, sucking onto your fingers and feeding her starvation as Karina strokes her hair, mouthing the words Good girl repeatedly—it’s a chant to tame and make her as pliant as possible, and it’s absolutely effective.

Karina kisses her nape, earning a squirm under her touch as you continue cleaning her off, aiming to unsoil to make yourself in awe over her ethereal face. “Tell me something, Winter—” She continues suckling onto your fingers, savoring every second that counts that plunges her mouth. “—like everything you want to happen…”

You pull out of her mouth’s embrace, uttering needy moans and whines escaping Winter’s lips as Karina encourages her. “Come on, Minjeongie—don’t be shy and let it all out.”

Karina’s voice melts Winter to the point that she could just stare at you, utter need with her eyes and laced with lust. She continues to moan with Karina’s frequent latches onto her pristine skin, calling her name as she draws herself closer to you, and you handle her with care, both hands onto her waist and inviting her. “You don’t mind leaning in for a kiss, won’t you?”

Winter’s breath brush against yours, knees shuddering with the sensitivity the both of you are bringing as Karina speaks for her. “She wouldn’t mind it—she’s been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

Winter can’t look at you, with her eyes closed, ending up in a predicament because of a profound confession which her friends say out loud, vocally. You tease her, shaking your head to play with her and she just lets out more gasps as Karina roams her hands all over Winter’s exposed skin. “Look who’s a needy, naughty girl, Winter, hm?”

Winter just drowns your eardrum with a pool of dulcet moans, a candy you’ll love to indulge on. It was eargasmic, as someone may say and Karina can confirm it, continuous with her worshiping and audacious advances. She tugs Winter onto hers, gaining control over your dominance as she hikes her skirt a little and then caresses her thighs, her name ringing like a chant on Karina’s ear.

Winter just hums, unable to speak with your lips clashed against hers, hands cupping her cheeks and delving deeper. It wasn’t voracious like you did with Karina, but more to let Winter undergo an unforgettable memory on how great this is. Karina’s a little left behind, feeling the both of you are exuding such hotness that baffles Karina and she loves to play alongside it—she keeps marking her neck and her nape, not enough to leave some hickeys but enough to elicit muffled sounds sequestered with your own lips. 

Karina wants Winter to experience one hell of a night, and it’s a great start to let her hands wander around the lace of her panties, and onto that permeating heat of hers. Winter involuntarily moans through your lips, her arms wrapping around your waist tighter than before and Karina’s movements just sets gasoline to the flames.

The squelch makes your cock twitch and regain its vigor, and Karina was aware of this and whispered such sinful words to Winter. “Stroke his cock, princess—and I’ll finger you too so the both of you can experience the same height of pleasure.”

You heard Karina’s exchange of filthy temptations onto her ear as you grab Winter’s hand, directing them onto your invigorating length and without a hesitation, she pumped your shaft like she has something to prove. Well, she’s apparently building such a great foundation for the pillars of her prize—the golden words of your approval and satisfaction, even though you’ve said it multiple times.

Like what Karina said earlier—Winter likes to be praised at most times—was a factual statement and it was evident when she felt more rejuvenated when Karina motivated her. You hum with her given reciprocations as it is chaste yet heartfelt, hitting the right spots of fulfilling her deprivation. 

She’s such a fucking natural, because the way she was enveloping your lips immediately after such momentary pull-out was enough to impress you and so did Karina.

Karina continued her leisurely attempts of teasing Winter’s folds, mouthing words that accelerated the constant rate of pleasure coursing through her. “I think you’re ready to be fucked with how wet you are, princess.”

It just made clench harder, and Karina smirks knowing it’s her kryptonite. Being called names defining how obedient she is just states the fact about her certain fetish, and Karina knows how to exactly push her buttons.

You pull out of her lips’ tight embrace, tucking her hair behind her ear, and you conclude your own verdict with Karina’s words. “Oh—you’re dying to be fucked, did I hear that right, Winter?”

Winter nods, a sly smile curling her lips as she continues to pump you, yet you hinder it with your own hands as you’re saving up such a progression for what will happen later. “Yes, daddy—I fucking want it s-so much…”

Karina laughs, knowing how sincere Winter’s pleas are. “She isn’t lying—she’s fucking wet just saying that alone.”

Winter’s subsequent faint moans was a reply to Karina’s repertoire of skills, plunging deeper and swiping it up and down, making Winter’s brain go haywire. Absolutely making yourself feel such libido skyrocketing, you savor the moment of two of the hottest and prettiest girls you’ve ever known making a mess for you to drool on (mostly it’s Winter being spoiled and all-too-filthy). 

It is their moment, clearly the other giving it all and the other all to receive and fuck, it’s such a hot sight. You can’t tame yourself to just be a bystander and with a single tug onto Winter’s hem of her skirt, you asked her. “May I?”

“Mhm, daddy—hah…” You then pull her panties, and down to her ankles thanks to gravity, making the scene double the damage as you play with her glistening clit. It feels like she’s just programmed to moan on a constant loop, never-ending as both your fingers stimulate her to the roof.

Karina lets out a sigh, feeling the air inside the rook is getting humid with all of your combined hotness. “Looks like this is the best time to strip, especially in front of the both of you.”

You’d never thought this day would be any better without another show from Karina’s seductive expertise. You’d not put any of your responsibilities in mind if the both of them will be your way to pass the day and let yourself be aware of this: they are intoxicating and insatiable, and you can’t seem to see yourself hesitating.

Karina undresses her blazer-like top, tossing it somewhere and then goes to another set of clothing and it’s such great fuel to keep you going. You kiss Winter’s collarbone as you eye Karina’s stripping, feeling every graceful movement of her sends you into hypnosis but you’re sturdy enough to fight it. You keep your fingers thrusting into Winter’s tightness, your length persistently throbbing as you do your work and you are perplexed when her faint voice breaks your trance. “Isn’t unnie the hottest—ohh, girl on the p-planet?”

You look into her eyes, those glistening orbs tend to allure people including you, and you could just mutter the truth right in front of her. “Both of you are, Winter.”

Winter’s genuine grin with a hint of modesty could never fail to make you fall for her charm. Swift like the wind, Karina’s only left with her lingerie as you stop her when she’s about to reach for her heels, opting for a way that could relive your prolonging fetishes.

“Leave the heels on, please, Karina.”

Her face just exudes the brattish attitude and that everlasting hubris you always adore whenever it breaks, eyebrows raised as she feels like this wasn’t expected. “Why though? It’s not like you’re gonna fuck me, also, not with these on—”

“But I will.” The girls were flummoxed with your decision (mostly Winter) as Winter’s eyes craved for your attention towards her, hands roaming onto your back with a goal to know what might happen.

“You’re going to fuck unnie?” God, you could never fully fathom the fact that such sinful words could leave those innocent lips of hers, but that was such a false assumption as the earlier session says otherwise. It’s still perplexing to say the least, and you love it—you love how she’s gaining more confidence as she gets comfortable with the grasp of events that’s occurring.

You cradle your hands between her waist, flashing a smile. “I’m going to fuck your unnie, Winter—” Her eyes gleam the undying lust, in utter need as she anticipates what’s going to happens and what you’re aware of is that Winter knows how you’ll handle Karina up to your own accord. “—and I hope that’ll make you wetter once it’s your turn.”

You don’t even need that kind of an introduction if she’s already drenched, the repetitive music of her squelches with Karina’s control strengthens the claim. At this moment, you’re just making things in her favor and testing what she can bear, just by voyeur for the time being, on the front seat..

“Karina, come here.” Winter draws back, sitting at the bed as Karina swifts its way onto you and you’re handling her with such ferocity that even galvanizes Karina, eyes widening and hands over your waist. 

“You’re such a pervert, y’know that?”

“Well—” You yank Karina’s wrists, putting them in place and she whines needily. She doesn’t need to say that, and she knows how you’ll always think about ruining her whenever she’s all stripped like this—just with her lingerie and her heels exudes such elegance that is dying to be sullied. “—I’ll let Winter know how much of a slut her best friend is.”

Winter laughs and with her regained confidence and comfort as she adds, “Unnie even told me how you’re always making her cum so much…”

Karina glared at Winter playfully, shocked at how bold and vocal Winter is. You smack Karina’s buttcheeks with power enough to make her wince in pain, and right after, smiling with the pleasure it brings. You stare at her eyes, and all you can see is the glistening of her pupils desperate to feel you yet she masks it with the smirks and possibly a stern face. Her hands aren’t idle, running down your back as you feel yourself at the peak of such sensation that no one can stop you. “Turn around and bend over to that table, right now.”

Karina laughs, surprised with your immediate commanding nature and Winter is feeling the need to unveil Karina’s true nature in front of hers eyes. Without any hesitation, Karina bends over the desk and spreads her legs open, laying flat on her stomach and her legs standing onto the floor.

You’ll promise that once you’re done with her, those legs wouldn’t stand so robustly, and would be precarious for her to know who owns her. “Put on a show for our princess here, babe.”

Karina’s choice of names and words never ceases to amaze you or rile you up, as her eloquence in the field of seduction should be studied—maybe Winter can learn a thing or two with her, but what she’ll learn now will be more than that. Karina wiggles her ass, arms grabbing on both sides of the table and with her current position, you can’t be distracted with anything other than drooling and eyeing every inch of her faultless, pristine body that’s sculpted by the gods above.

The fine plane of her figure bent down, pressed on her weight is such a sight that tests temptation and the utter need to use her. She’s so vulnerable and she loves it. You make her wince in pain with your deafening spanks and she drips uncontrollably. Your hands strip Karina’s panties, just down to her hamstrings and immediately, you’re invited with her dripping heat, yearning for your contact. You swipe the slit with your fingers, probably four times, in an up and down motion and then teased her puckered hole that eases up once you plugged your thumb in it.

“God—I—s-still can’t believe you’re so good at this.” Barely registering and occupied with repeated motions on her heat, you continue your assaults onto her cunt, moans bound to spiral out of control whenever the time comes.

You smile with profound confidence, knowing you’re the best she ever had. “Of course, just gonna make this cunt wet enough for the taking.”

Karina repeatedly whines, her arms wagging a little due to the immense pleasure she’s experiencing. You steal ephemeral glances to Winter, touching herself with the sight and god, it’s just making you throb more.

You can’t resist it anymore as the teasing suddenly ends up on a halt, and it was for the better. Karina grips the table harder, feeling the euphoria creating an endless stream of moans that fill your desires to even plunge more into her. 

You are slow, savoring every thrust as Karina was eager to let you know who she is. “Fill me up and fuck me hard—fuck me hard enough for Winter to drool on—oh!”

She’s still able to articulate eloquent words but that wouldn’t be happening when you’re in control. Knowing how vigorous Karina is and is up for the maximum taking, you slap her hips and use it as leverage to start the climax of the show. Her frame moves in tandem with your powerful thrusts, a motion to hypnotize you but ends up on her side—she’s gaining this stupor disposition whenever you’re getting balls-deep inside her.

A symphony was created, and a rhapsody lasts for an eternity and it’s simply with your hurried pumping, uttering such sinful sounds coming out from both your lips and with the given pace, she’s liable to give out.

She probably is, heels repeatedly clicking onto the marbled tiles was enough of an answer, knees shaking as you give your hundred percent, and in return, is mutual. You run your hands onto the pristine skin of her ass, giving another smack that makes her clench uncontrollably around your hammering length. You are rapid and destroying her tight, little cunt in every possible second and you can just see Winter in your peripherals, a faint blur as she fingers herself and frantically moaning with the sight.

“God—this is so good—so fucking good—hah!”

“Now Winter knows how much of a slut you really are. You’re commanding and strict outside, even on the campus with your name but when you’re with me, you suddenly give yourself, huh?” A smack, a strike resembling an immediate response but is unable to, moans outpower what she would like to say. 

She’s wet and it’s better for you, knowing how you can glide easier into her tight cavern, filling it up to the brim and making her think of you only. 

Another strike and she whimpers, “Asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Was i-it—hah—even a questio—ahh!” You pull her hair, continuously ramming her cunt and demanding an answer coming from her lips. 

“I said what I fucking said, Karina.” It was stern, composed and filthy. Your words are scarce with mercy and bring an ounce of pity. You’re harsh, orchestrating the way she’ll reply with your thrusts and it’s not helping her, not when her moans become borderline screams caused by her extravagant waves of pleasure.

She’s dripping, and you can see it whenever you eye her buttcheeks jiggle with the force you’re exerting, clearly spoiling the floor. She raises her legs constantly, succumbing to the pleasure as every clack her heels make just adds to the cacophonous sounds of sex that fills the tension inside this room.

Winter’s eavesdropping could not be any better, every squelch and clap resulting from repeated thrusts inside her cunt. You’d probably say Karina would forget that she exists in this room, not when you’re fucking her up even mentally with how you tell your own pace.

You can feel Karina’s close, dangerously close as she lets you know that, unable to hold it in and eager to give it all out. 

“So close, babe—fuck m-me up real good!” You grip her hips harsh enough to possibly leave a bruise, baragging her cunt with an onslaught of thrusts and eventually it wasn’t far from her triumphant roar, a scream signifying her final blow.

Thrusts are relentless and the inevitable does meet its fate, giving another set of hammerings before pulling out (it hurts to do so, but you’re dying to see her cunt spew mountains of her juices) and there she goes, letting everything out. She gasps with the high she’s experiencing, and you lean in on her to kiss her silky skin, peppering it with kisses that just makes your libido reach heights and stay there.

“Oh shit—fuck!” Karina whimpers, lips quivering as she looks over to her shoulder, still enervated with her recent orgasmic trance. She gets up with the help of her own arms, legs wobbling a little as she’s regaining her energy slowly, facing you with a sweet smile. 

“Winter’s right actually—you’re always cumming so fucking much whenever I pound you silly.”

Karina’s a little hypocrite, not letting her ego be shattered and most likely, her dominant façade breaks loose. 

“Whatever—well, I believe we got our main course right here.” Karina’s head shook, and her eyes directed towards Winter and with Karina’s words, she knew what’s bound to happen and you let your hunger take over you.

“Get up and take off that skirt, Winter.” It was dominant and provocative, but it’s going to be benefiting the both of you. You’ll bet your whole life and will win if Winter’s wet and without even telling nor showing anything, you could feel how wet she is, especially on how you used Karina’s pussy like it’s the final minutes of the world.

And it was set up all too well, Winter whimpering as the cool air blows her skin, feeling more sensitive as she exposes more of that desired treasure. 

Skirt’s on the floor and off to somewhere else, a worthless piece of clothing and it was just the tip of the iceberg. With her damp slit now on full display, you let her spread her legs a little and Karina interrupts and guess what, this is a hidden gem for what Winter is about to experience. “Need to get your pussy nice and wet, hm? You wouldn’t mind that won’t you.”

Winter moans with Karina’s efforts, feeling every movement prone to break her apart as she thrusts her fingers up Winter’s walls from behind, mischievously grinning and chuckling seeing Winter sullies herself, bit by bit. The scene could never go wrong, dripping Winter’s juices onto her thighs as she grows drenched by the second, and you eyes her every inch and think how beautiful it is to ruin such a pure, pristine girl breathing in innocence.

You can’t say that now, not when Karina’s almost a knuckle-deep inside Winter and your cock teasing just near the vicinity of her folds.

“Breathe and feel everything, princess.” Karina whispers into her ear, earning a faint Yes from Winter and she just adds to the endless flow of moans and even messes up her own slit.

“I guess you’re ready now, Winter.” She’s barely standing straight for two reasons: one would be her knees giving up, failing her as she succumbs to the pleasure; and two, would be with the way you and Karina are handling her.

The climax starts, and you’re going to give her the best night she will never dare to forget, and let it etch into her brain.

Karina swipes her finger frantically for one last time, before you could take control by laying her back onto the bed. All you can do is be mesmerized with the vulnerable state she is in, laid down and you’re in full control over her. She chuckles with the heat permeating with your own touch, a little ticklish but that’ll do the trick and all you can sense the anticipating seeping in her pupils. You take a look over her impeccable features, the curves and the petite frame down to her waist was enough to make you drool, wanting to strip all of it but this outfit looks way too great on her to be deemed soiled.

She gasps, moans and you reply with control and dominance, slowly pushing your way in as she continuously whimpers. She writhes a little, on the verge of tears on how great it feels when it’s the real thing and you won’t give in to your feral thoughts on wrecking her like what you did to Karina.

“Does it feel good, Winter?” Karina leans onto the bed, whispering again with that sultry voice of hers. Winter just nods and is unable to let out coherent sentences when you’re inside her tightness.

“You know what? Winter’s fucking tight—god!” You exclaim, genuine with your words as it feels as heavenly as Karina. You insert more than half and Winter groans and pleads you for more, composing her breaths as she takes you like a champ.

“So good, daddy! So, so, good—mmh…” 

“See? Taking that big cock of hers isn’t so easy, Winter, but you’ll get used to it once you get yourself comfortable.” Karina reassures her and believes she can take it all, and knowing how determined Winter is with all of her encouragement (most likely known as her moans of need) was enough to know she wants more.

You take a hold of her hips, legs now wrapping around your waist with a given set of thrusts just to get herself accustomed to your length. You’re not filling her up to the hilt, but more than half is inserted in every thrust you do, bringing waves of pleasure up in every inch of her body, closing her eyes to feel and cherish every second. Her legs flail in response with your thrusts, gripping onto the sheets for leverage and with the sheer power of each hard thrust, desperate and exhausted moans escape her lips. Karina’s voice encouraging and schooling Winter becomes a faint noise on your ears, too occupied with the fact that you’re pumping your length inside her impossibly tight cunt.

You’ll push it up, pull it up and you’re going to get it done—this just remarks the beginning of the reckoning, and you could just see yourself growing the pace within seconds.

“I never—I’ll watch Winter getting fucked by my boyfriend right here—doesn’t feel it good, hm, princess?” Karina fixes Winter’s hair, tucking it at the back of her ear as her ruined visage makes Karina in awe. Winter could just nod and mutter a faint Yes before moaning again with your moderate thrusts, achieving depths that’s almost the limit. 

“Oh god—” You plunge more as per her requesting tone between pleas, making her utter words that aren’t articulately thought about at this point. “—you’re stretching me o-out, daddy!”

“That’s the spirit, princess.” Karina ends it up with a sinister grin, satisfied with the way you’re treating her as her innocence should be kept at bay and wiped, and it’s slowly going towards that way given your pace. Her thighs jiggle with your moderate pursuit onto her heat as she clenches once you run your fingers towards the pristine skin of her cheeks and onto her puckered hole. You groan with your given thrusts and wanting to savor the moment truly, you ask Winter with lust laced on every word, “Do you want me to go deeper, Winter?” 

Your hands then roam on her arms, gaining control and feeling the silkiness of every inch, smooth to the touch and aiding the tension between the both of you. Your words just made Winter clench so tight that you elicited a soft moan that was a candy to both of their ears.

Karina adds, her words flaming up the fire of lust in her brain. “He’ll go deeper in you and you’re going to take it like a good girl, right?”

Another saccharine word strokes Winter’s ego, and it’s just making her behave under both your controls (mostly yours). Winter’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Winter with intent so desperate for more. “Yes—fuck, yes, unnie…”

Karina flashes another satisfied smile for the umpteenth time, signaling her delight with Winter’s submission and all you can feel is Karina tapping onto your shoulder, whispering onto your ear, “Fuck her silly and hard, like how she deserves it.”

You know Winter earned it, taking you like a good girl and how obedient she is strengthens the deal. You rivaled your moderate pace earlier, now ramping up and getting that momentum flowing, ramming her tight cunt in an mind-boggling pace that just uttered the most sinful and neediest moans known to mankind—Winter’s pitch of her tone makes it up to the submissive demeanor she already has, right from the start.

You’re doubting if you could go harsher with your pace, knowing how cautionary when Winter breaks apart and unable to take it all, yet it’s those moans that eliminate these thoughts of yours. Each moan inviting you to thrust in harder and with her repeated pleas, you could only oscillate harsher movements.

“God, she’s creaming like crazy onto your cock, babe—look at her!” Karina gasps after that, a little surprised at how Winter is forming rivulets of her juices and it just made it easier to glide in and withdraw, a repeated process that felt like hours. 

You’re now in this constant state of fighting to ruin her truly, inviting her to the succumb onto the abyss of primal bliss, swimming onto it as you plunge her up to the hilt and with their voices forming a discordant sound aiming to break against your temptation, it wasn’t going to be a hard choice.

“Mo—more, daddy!” It’s the simple pleas like that keeps you going, clapping her hard against the mattress and as a result, gripping the sheets tighter that it may almost tear apart. There’s maybe ways to exert more power in her throat, accumulating such power to elicit more high-pitched moans and as much as they’re probably deafening, and a nuisance to the neighbors, one conclusion would be made up: it’s heavenly and musically dissonant.

“Karina…” You call her name, grunting a little as she looks up at you with such innocence—it’s unbelievably contradictory, the sight of her neck down says so—laced on her eyes. “Care to let Winter’s mouth work onto something?”

Karina responds with actions, quick to shut Winter up with her fingers that Winter enthusiastically sucked on. It was a ballistic approach but it’s aiding her an outlet to control herself and suppress the repeating resonating sounds. 

All of you are sweating—mostly you, profusely—as the heat was too much to handle and it’s the greatest element of such a sinful event for the fact it just signifies the hotness the three of you emit. Karina inserts another finger, further amplifying the tension as Winter sucks on it like it’s her favorite lollipop, or the best case scenario here, like your succulent cock.

Karina’s fingers are probably soaked in saliva, Winter’s mouth becoming messier just made Karina think of something that will even test Winter’s capabilities and limits. Winter hums and squirms with fingers lodged into her mouth, and given the frequent movements you do, Karina thrusts her fingers onto Winter’s mouth, working alternately with your hips. Winter gags a little, repeated and then frequently, as Karina’s soothing voice trains her to tame it and be composed. 

“It’s fine, princess—work it up for me. Close your eyes and just feel it.” Winter eventually embraces the fact that she’s gagging in every thrust Karina does, and she’s doing everything in her power to tame it and it’s not helping when you’re fucking her brains out. 

Even with your thrusts laced to break, she remains vigorous and it’s really commendable—the way she’s taking every thrust burns a mental image in you that would scare you for life, in a great way. Winter is now holding onto Karina’s arm, gripping tighter by the second, still bobbing her head onto Karina’s fingers and eventually, Karina pulls out and Winter whines with her actions.

“I w-wanna—fuck! Wanna suck, p-please!” 

“Oh, you needy, slutty princess… How the world made you, hm?” Those pleas are not going to be left unattended as Karina resumes plunging her mouth with her saliva-sheathed fingers, sucking and squirming onto it as it just made her even wetter. The repeated clenching and the disheveled look of Winter makes you throb hard, yet speaking of such impending orgasm, you could feel Winter’s getting closer.

“I think Winter’s gonna cum, Rina.” Ragged breaths come right after, a little spent but ultimately alternating between a slow and rapid pace to catch yourself some breather. You can tell how close she is, and wanting Winter to savor the moment of what could be the most euphoric experience that she’ll feel in her whole life. Karina pulls out of the heat of her mouth, tracing her collarbones and teasing, just to get herself riled up for what’s bound to be inevitable.

Winter’s plethora of moans lets you chase her high, fucking her mercilessly as Karina exclaims, wanting to capture a sight that’ll be a core memory for the three of you. “Pull out—pull out! Want her to squirt all over your cock, babe.”

You heard her and immediately obliged, and you could see the most sinful she’s ever become: her folds glistened, and eventually erupted like a volcano that messes up everything in its vicinity. She moaned uncontrollably, calling you for three times as she rode out her high, catching herself some oxygen as her orgasmic trance puts her on a stupor that’s making her feel spent up. 

You let her recover, brushing your cock up against her gushing folds and even felt concerned with her current state. 

“Winter, a-are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, I’m fine…” Winter sniffles, crying with the overwhelming emotions she’s feeling. You felt bad for going too berserk over her tightness, but with her petite frame still begging to be used, you know remorse would be the last thing you’ll ever consider. 

“Tell it to him, princess—tell him what you want him to do.” Karina’s voice regains Winter’s senses, looking at you as her puppy-eyes begs you for something you can’t decline. 

“Please f-fuck me again, daddy…” Winter’s legs shake, quivering as she feels vulnerable and blissful, and she loves it (at least her smile says so).

“More, princess—what exactly do you want to earn?” Karina’s unlocking her deepest desires, and it’s only a matter of time before you become aware of it (it’s most likely predictable at this point).

“Daddy’s cum…” God, her voice just made you throb repeatedly, that submissive, soft voice of hers is enough to be enlightened with her message. 

“Where do you want it exactly, hm??” Karina faces you, then Winter, eyes anticipating an answer seeking reward and the utter fulfillment of the prophecy.

There Winter goes, predictable and relentless with her words.

“Inside me.”

Inside her, she says.

“You heard our princess, babe.” Karina’s lips brush ever so slightly onto your earlobe, whispering as her voice sounds like the devil making you give up to your temptation and as the endgame, you give in. “Don’t hold back and give her a deserved reward.”

That, you’ll do.

Done stroking your length, you insert it in her once again and still groan with her unparalleled tightness, and Winter immediately voiced out the pleasure you bring. She grips onto the sheets again, making her legs wrap around your waist again, locking you in place as you continue with your expertise. 

Your arms then reach for hers, Winter then grabbing onto it like she’s clinging for her life, ensuing a reckless pace that just uttered the most sinful moans she could ever produce. You’re lifting her by a little, head throwing back and hanging a little on the air as she bounces in tandem with your repeated thrusts. Karina then latches her lips onto your back and shoulders, peppering it with kisses and worshiping every inch, feeding her hunger as your insatiability helps.

“My god, babe—you may actually fuck her senseless and put her into sleep.” Karina’s a little bewildered and feral with the way you’re handling Winter, and how Winter’s expression perfectly resembles a face of submission: mouth ajar, continuous with the moans, eyes slightly open and closing, disheveled blonde locks that’s still put in place with her pigtails and the utter mess onto her sullied face.

In other words, her image is now ruined, all thanks to you. She’s grateful for what she has become and fully embraces it—a mindless fucktoy that’s hungry for your cock.

It wasn’t far off before you can feel yourself near, close enough for Winter to embrace the inevitable. You let her go, and Winter thuds onto the mattress, moaning in pain and pleasure with each other movement your hips do. Karina’s hands roam down to your abdomen, caressing, flickering and teasing you to urge for your release and her words send your walls crumbling down: “Aren’t you close, babe? You seem to be groaning more than usual.”

You wince, lips quivering as you face her and god, her contact is enough to melt you. “I’m fucking c-close—yes.”

Karina smirks, hands roaming down towards your ramming length and was enthusiastic she could pull such a trick up her sleeve. “Great, now stop fucking her and let me do something.”

You appear to be puzzled, unsure of what she’s about to enlighten you but you did what she said, compliant and at Karina’s end, satisfied. “Don’t pull out—just leave the tip inside.”

There wasn’t a single idea embarked in your mind, but once she held your cock with vice grip and started stroking it vigorously, you know what she wants to pull off.

“That’s right…” Karina’s mouth is agape, eyeing your expressions as she strokes you into your own euphoric high, and Winter’s moans of encouragement just adds fire, mustering a velocity up at her wrists’ limits. “Fucking cum for me, babe—cum inside that tight, little pussy of our princess.”

Her words are like a fuse, and with the constant squelching of her dexterous fingers sets up a nice combination for the formula of your release.

“Cum for me, babe—fill her pussy up.”

A concoction signifying your awaited release, relentless with her wrists and her fingers and suddenly—

Winter cries, Karina grips tight and you elicit the reward of your hardwork and it ultimately pays off: Winter writhing as you deposit every thick spurt, forming rivulets down to the sheets when it's probably the penultimate second of your high. You never thought this would be such a hot sight to engrave your mind with and you’re honestly grateful for unlocking another one—this delves down to your trophies of Karina’s victorious intelligence, feeding the cabinet full of it as she brings another fetish down to the table.

You’re always winning, and you got to thank Karina with that.

“Fucking hell, Rina—shit, that’s hot…”

Karina’s hubris is stroke, smiling genuinely with the fact that this ticked one of your boxes. “Of course you’ll like this.”

This is a new element of surprise that you always love Karina for, and with that given uprising of emotions, you lunge in and give her some torrid kisses as she’s quick to reciprocate with it. Your cock still throbs in the air, dripping with Winter’s juices and you cum, and to your surprise, you could only sense a hand stroking it and humming onto Karina’s lips because of it. 

A faint voice rings in your eardrums, mellow and sinful, just soothing your nerves. “May I please suck it, daddy?”

Of course, it’s Winter with her whole, new self, utterly ruined and confident with her new persona. You keep indulging onto Karina’s scrumptious lips, hands groping her voluptuous tits and caressing them until she pulls out, a moan escaping her mouth before she remarks, “Let her be, babe.”

You groan with the sensitivity, but if it’s Winter practically begging for your length to be tasted then you would comply with her needs. “I didn't say like I won't let her do it.”

You keep playing with Karina’s mounds, earning the faintest yet hottest moans imaginable and with the given signal, Winter indulges again, shifting her body just to be at the edge of the bed, facing your cock. She does her job, flicking her tongue and taking you halfway and with the warmth she brings, you moan in unison with Karina’s.

“Take off this bra, Rina—want to see your fucking tits.”

Karina laughs, knowing how it’s such a ubiquitous move to say those words so aggressively. “Then do it—ahh, no one’s stopping you.”

You grit your teeth, drooling with the sight of her bare tits palmed against your hand, cupping and squeezing them like those are your favorite stress balls—probably the best in the table, unbeatable and in its own league. With a swift motion, you unclasped her bra, legs shuddering a little because of Winter’s audacious pace and it’s such a great addition. You’re instantly met with her taut nipples, probably feeling the breeze the room emanates as all of your hotness rivals it. Free of its frustrating restraints, you admire every inch of it, feeling it as Karina moans with your advancements.

“Keep playing with my tits, babe—fuck, so good!” Her conspicuous amusement fuels you, and you stimulate her more with a tight pinch on her taut buds, earning more sultry moans leaving her lips. Winter just keeps the pace moderate, running her tongue all around your still throbbing length, savoring every inch and humming onto its succulence.

Every second that probably happens in this room is just sinful, and it’s mesmerizing how the three of you are managing to be incredibly consistent with it. Winter’s constant bobbing alleviates the sensitivity, now translating onto pleasure as you continue playing on her mouthwatering mounds, but before you continue, Karina has an idea on her mind.

“You can actually j-just—fuck, that’s great—uhm, fuck my breasts with that cock of yours.”

That’s an idea. Possibly enlightening and tempting, but you’re not the only one with a trick up your sleeve, and let herself know that yours is loose and copious. 

“No, Rina—join Winter, on your knees.” Karina’s face paints another visible surprise, and Winter stops and withdraws with a loud pop.

“Well, I can’t turn that down.” Karina then cups your balls, fondling with the slightest of efforts and she knows that the three of you aren’t done yet. “Your balls are still pretty full, too. We’ll stop until they’re fully drained and sore.”

Karina kneels before uttering another set of words that made your length inevitably throb. “Fuck my tits when you’re about to finish.”

That, you’ll wholeheartedly do. The sight is just genuinely impure, Karina kneels down alongside Winter, and gets onto work without any hesitations. They face your purplish crown, and suckled onto it vigorously and with passion laced in every second they do such sin. 

There weren’t any introductions for you to keep yourself accustomed to them nor any teasing, and immediately, Winter peppers your shaft with kisses up to the base, and Karina immediately latches her tongue to paint her own drool all over your engorged tip, marking her territory. They’re filthy with each second the counts, bringing up an undistinguishable mess on your shaft and with their hunger for your length, it’s clearly shown how diligent their movements are. 

“S-Shit—you two, oh god…” Moans are erratic, breaths are ragged as their oral expertise is clearly displayed, making you feel such stimulation that’s making you feel the utmost gratification. Karina’s tongue kept dancing onto your head, moving on to move deeper whilst Winter averted her attention to your balls, sucking on each one with care and utter depravity. 

You just know, that’s you at the top of the world right now and that’s what really matters—it’s stated as a fact with the given sight of these two phantasmagoric girls worshiping your length and need with their actions involving lust. You kept moaning their names, hands caressing and playing with their hair as Karina eventually pulled out, mouthing her satisfaction with the sight. 

“Who would have thought this would be fun, hm?”

“Literally all of us, Rina—shit, keep doing that Winter.” You’re not wrong and hers is a rhetorical question. It doesn’t matter at this point, not when your brain is clouded with their dexterous fingers and their talented mouths pleasuring you in the filthiest ways imaginable. Winter strokes your base, hand gripping your thighs as she now takes your length, and Karina makes herself occupied onto sucking those swollen balls of yours.

It’s alternating between who’ll take you and it’s commendable how they manage to choreograph the flow of their oral assault to you with their minds poisoned with their own hunger for your cock. Winter’s a given natural and Karina’s an experienced one, which just concludes to the fact that their dynamic is just the best in these situations—there are plenty of other things their dynamic is great at, yet this one, is off the charts.

The fire of lust in you sets ablaze, and you know something coming neat with the given warning. “You girls—I’m g-gonna fucking cum if you keep doing this.”

Miraculously, they aren’t as selfish as you thought they would be, instantly popping out of your nether region and with the given fate that’s written, it’s up for you to fulfill it. “Oh babe, you gotta fuck my tits first, remember?“

Of course you do, you’re even dying to feel those pillowy mounds wrapped around your length and feel its incredible warmth. “Like I would forget that, Rina.”

“God, you’re gonna finish on unnie’s tits, daddy?” It never fails to amaze you how the submissiveness of Winter makes you crumble down your defenses, ultimately being mellow with her with the lustful energy still permeating within you. 

“Yes, Winter—I’m going to paint her tits pearly white, every inch, if possible.” Whenever it's possible, you’ll do it. You know it wouldn’t be such a copious amount of your load but you’re getting the job done, no matter what. Karina then looks up at you, with an intent on making fall down to her control as she raises her ass little, still kneeling and with her breasts aligned with your wet, throbbing cock, shs wouldn’t waste a single second enveloping you with her pillowy flesh.

It’s fucking euphoric how the heat of her mounds wraps around your length, just in the right of amount of tightness as she squeezes her tits with all her might and you gladly appreciate it. Winter then goes onto her back, her frame pressed against Karina’s back and starts helping to stimulate her, pinching her nipples and applying a pushing pressure to wrap you around like a fleshlight. 

You move, dictate a pace and instantly groan with the sensitivity yet you don't care, because you’re dying to release everything you can onto a canyon of her cleavage. Thanks to the aided lubrication their mouths brang earlier, it wasn’t an issue elevating the pace, grasping her shoulders as you thrust in and out like it’s just her tight cunt all over again. Karina even moves herself in accordance to your pace, also desperate for another filthy load as she moans with Winter’s approaches, playing with her mounds and making her experience the same tempo of pleasure as you.

The crescendo hits, hitting the climax with such a tremendous pitch with Winter’s constant pinching, earning such a borderline scream from Karina that even pleads you for more.

“God, please, babe—your cock—so good around my tits, shit!”

You’re sweating, focused solely invested into achieving your own high as you bent your knees a little, gaining yourself leverage for a better pace. “These tits are fucking perfect around my cock, yes!”

It’s just another filthy picture imprinted into your brain, completely lost with her hypnotizing flesh gliding complimentary with your length as you could feel the euphoric experience on its near demise. Karina would even flick her tongue when your tip hit near her chin, shuddering with the flesh in contact with your leaking slit, even drawing near to your supposedly final piece of your own tale.

It’s told, etched onto the history books as Karina’s broken yet sultry voice invites you and immediately, it’s lured in.

You kept your wild pace on the run, even with the vicinity of her cleavage being painted white, even hitting her neck and making a mess all over her mound. Winter releases her grip onto Karina’s tits, and is flabbergasted with how filthy Karina has been—ruined and painted, just like her. 

You withdraw when Karina releases her grip, her fingers tracing the cum you deposited onto her pristine skin and tasted it, still satisfied with the delectable taste it still has. “You never disappoint, babe.”

“You girls are insane.” A breath follows, exhausted with what the three of you have done as you can even see their chests heave because of being in the same boat as yours. You help Karina stand up, a little wobbly because of all that just happened as she glares at you and speaks up.

“You should have let me take off the heels—it’s uncomfortable as fuck.”

“Well, you even look hotter with it—maybe even made me cum harder.”

“Unnie’s right, daddy—you look hot with just your heels on.” Winter’s verdict strokes the ego out of you, cocking your head as you scoff with hubris.

“Fine—let’s just clean up, shall we?”

Karina invites of course and it’s just reasonable—the three of you are probably the filthiest people in this given time frame, and cleansing yourselves would be a great option.

Maybe it’s another “two birds with one stone” in the bathroom later but one thing is for sure, you definitely hit the birds precisely and you’ll cherish and be proud of it, of what you’ve probably become.

“I have an idea though…” Karina’s strained voice invites Winter and you, all ears with what in the roulette of filthiness she may say right after. “Come here, Winter.”

She is puzzled yet she anticipates what Karina may have in store for her and you took a seat, possibly expecting for her to put up a show for you to indulge on. 

“What is it, unnie?”

“See the mess on my tits?” Winter answers audibly with a nod right after, expecting Winter’s ability to adapt in these situations is enough to connect the dots. “I assume what you want to do with it.”

Winter’s eyes shine, gleaming with lust as she feels shy knowing that what she has in mind is right. “Uhm, is it alright, unnie?”

“Yes, Winter—now say to him what you’re going to do.” Karina’s commands avert Winter’s eyes towards yours, and completely, you’re clearly interested how Winter will say such events that’s destined to unfold later, tilting your head and giving another green light.

“Go ahead, Winter—enlighten me.”

Winter clears her throat, eyes locked onto yours and lets herself be utterly vocal. “I’m assuming unnie wants me to clean your cum from her tits, am I right, daddy?”

The way Winter said it with sheer hesitance and as the cherry on top, laced with such innocence still baffles you—it felt like you heard something blasphemous but this is the reality of things now, and it’s clearly Winter becoming totally influenced and ruined by the both of you is just the beginning. You chuckle with her words, victorious with what you made her to be as you shake your head, pretending to be unaware of Karina’s whereabouts. “I don’t know, ask your unnie instead…”

Winter spans her attention to Karina, as Karina tilts her head and assures her. “Well, if so, it’s a yes and definitely, you’re right.”

Winter immediately flustered, cheeks emanating that rosy-pink hue as she went towards Karina, and with her power, she grabbed Winter by her wrists and mouthed the words of enchantment. “Go and clean me off, princess—show me what that tongue can do…”

Still with Karina’s authority, Winter whines and smiles at her, and her tongue slowly touches the tip of her mounds, still hesitant and Karina knows this, and she’ll do everything with her power to let Winter be a tool to achieve her wants, and Winter’s too, of course. “It’s just going to be the three of us knowing this mess, so go on princess—clean me off.”

Clean her off, that’s a must and it’s commanding. 

There’s something whenever Karina asserts her dominance and control, and it’s just turning every button on you, with a flip of a switch. Her handling of Winter is something you wouldn’t expect, and the sight is just like candy to your eyes—addicting, each second savored as you find yourself indulging for more.

You marvel at Karina’s filthy artisticness, a clever mind with another purpose would be something that will leave you astonished at most times.

Winter’s tongue licks the vicinity of Karina’s cleavage, every drop wiped clean and onto her mouth as Karina interrupts and lets go of her grip. “Don’t swallow it, princess—not yet. I’ll do something with you.”

Winter hums in satisfaction, a reply that falls audible on Karina’s ears as a nod comes right after. When Winter feels like she’s done licking every inch clean, Karina cups her cheeks and tilts her chin, and those eyes of Winter glisten under Karina’s control. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

It boils down into madness, lips crashing against each other as Karina’s initiative was eager to be reciprocated by Winter. The exchange was hot and chaste, feeling every second too euphoric as they resonate sounds enough for you to taint your mind with. Karina slurps with Winter’s approaching control, tongue dancing all over hers as Karina pulls out, and they both look at each other’s eyes with such needy intent. “Now share that cum with me, princess.”

Winter does as what she’s told to, immediately deposits remnants of that prize of yours onto Karina’s mouth, slobbering all over it while still exchanging kisses onto Winter’s insatiable lips. It goes onto these thoughts on why Karina possibly loves indulging Winter on a hot kiss: firstly, it’s mostly reminding her how Winter’s mouth still resembles the taste of your cock, which clearly, she’s obsessed with; second, the heat of the moment was just skyrocketing, feeling Karina’s urge to let Winter know how good of a kisser she is let herself be known how capable she is with anything; and lastly, Karina’s addicted to the taste of your cum, a protein she probably wouldn’t refuse to not let her tongue taste it.

These are assumptions at your end, yet clearly, you know how those can hit the right boxes, with only a minuscule margin of error.

They continue with such ferocity, Karina’s hands find Winter’s tiny waist, pulling her deeper into the blissful trance as both of them get lost into the abyss of need. Winter finds Karina’s shoulders, caressing it as they indulge deeper and then eventually, they pull out with little oxygen left in their bodies to spare.

“God, you two are fucking hot doing that.” You let them know that, and they already did, just another ringing onto their ears.

“Well, I can’t help that our princess here taste so fucking good.”

Winter laughs faintly, shy as she manages to utter something unserious. “I bet you only wanted to kiss me because of daddy’s cum…”

You ride with the high, teasing Karina as she gives you that unimpressed look, and you know she’s also playing with you and chose to be alongside it. “Yah, you really tasted that good too, plus the fact that it’s his cum too, so yeah…”

You’d say this is the final chapter in today’s book, and you let them invite onto something that could cleanse themselves for such acts. “Now, for real girls, let’s clean up.”

You never knew if you could be mesmerized or disappointed by what Karina made you do but one thing’s for sure, you never regretted every second and possibly, even experience something like this more frequently. Every possible dynamic that happened was 

“That sure made me know Winter more… and go even more than comfortable…” 

[theragethatisdesire]

scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!

hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!

beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol

pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader

wc: 9.1k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)

have fun ;)

-

This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.

“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”

“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.

“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”

“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.

“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”

“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”

You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”

He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.

You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.

You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.

It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.

When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”

“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.

You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”

You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”

If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.

As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”

“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.

“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.

“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.

“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.

Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.

“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”

“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.

“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”

You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–

“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.

“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”

“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.

“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”

You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.

“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.

The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.

“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.

“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”

The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.

“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.

“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.

“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”

One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”

Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”

Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”

Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.

“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”

“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.

Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.

You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.

“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.

“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”

“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”

“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”

Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”

“Sasha–”

“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”

“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”

“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.

You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.

Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.

You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?

He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.

“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.

His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–

Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.

The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.

“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.

“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.

Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.

“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”

“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.

Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.

“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”

“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.

A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”

“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”

Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”

“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”

“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.

“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”

“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.

A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.

Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.

“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”

“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”

“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.

He spits directly in Eren’s face.

Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.

“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.

“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”

You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.

“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.

“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.

He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.

Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.

Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.

“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?���

“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.

“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”

No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”

You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.

“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.

Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.

“What the hell was that, Eren?”

He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.

“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”

“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.

“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”

“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.

Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”

“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.

Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”

“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”

Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”

“You’re my–”

“The other thing.”

“I needed you.”

“Again.”

“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”

He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”

“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.

“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”

Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.

“Do you still?”

“Still?”

“Need me.”

You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”

“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”

You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.

“I still need you. Now.”

Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.

“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”

A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.

His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”

You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”

Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.

Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.

Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.

“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.

“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 

Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.

“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”

Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 

“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”

“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.

“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”

A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.

“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”

“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.

“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”

Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.

He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.

Eren chuckles. “You need something?”

“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.

“You want me to stop fucking with you?”

“Please, Eren, I need you–”

“That’s all you had to say.”

And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.

Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.

“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.

“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.

“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“I need– fuck– I need more.”

“Magic word?”

“Please, Eren, fuck!”

“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”

Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.

“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 

“Close?”

“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”

“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”

Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–

“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”

The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.

“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”

He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 

“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”

Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”

You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”

You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”

Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.

Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.

“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”

“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”

You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.

“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”

“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”

You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.

And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.

“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.

“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”

“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”

“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.

Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.

You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.

“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”

You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.

Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.

You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.

“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”

“He’s not my-”

“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.

You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”

Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.

“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”

You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.

“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”

“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”

“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.

“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”

You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.

“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”

You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”

He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.

It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.

“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.

“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”

That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”

“Maybe he wants to apologize.”

Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”

“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.

Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.

“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”

There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.

“I just–”

“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”

You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”

“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”

Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”

“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.

“You might have me there.”

“Better than horseface?”

“Watch it.”

The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”

“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.

“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”

“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.

He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[7s3ven]

ONE CUP OF COFFEE. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a series of rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?”

Warnings: Smoking, mentioning of throwing up, mentioning of weed, swearing here and there, mentioning of hooking (pretty tame for a Theodore Nott fic tbh)

—

“One coffee. Black. No milk or sugar. Make it hotter than usual.” Theodore Nott wasted no time in repeating his order to the worker behind the counter. A new coffee shop had opened inside of Hogsmeade and in the Slytherin’s opinion, their drinks were better than any muggle one.

He tossed a few golden coins onto the table before walking away and taking a seat in a deserted corner. He liked to be away from people because despite being part of a popular Slytherin group and partying often, he wasn’t a social person.

The quiet lulling of muggle songs played around in the cafe, bouncing off the walls. Theodore pulled his turtle neck up higher, covering his bare skin from the cold air. It nipped at his slim fingers and he wished he had taken a pair of Draco’s Dior gloves now.

The rusted bell attached to the door dully rang as someone else entered. The cafe wasn’t too crowded. There were a few other students scattered here and there but not many people were willing to freeze just to grab a coffee.

Melted snow dripped off Theodore’s boots as his observant eyes followed the actions of the newcomer. He couldn’t tell what house she was in because she was wearing all white, but she definitely wasn’t a Slytherin. The girls clad in green and silver had a certain aura; an unfriendly, poisonous, and addictive one.

This girl radiated off sunshine and daffodils and basking in the warmth of a crackling fire. Theodore guessed she was in Hufflepuff because she had a certain charm to her bright smile.

“One cinnamon chai latte.” She ordered, kindly handing the cashier a few coins. She was practically the opposite of Theodore.

“Name?” The cashier asked, much comfortable in her presence as opposed to the Slytherin who sat a few feet away.

“Y/N.”

Her name jogged Theodore’s memory. She was the girl Lorenzo had been paired with in herbology. It was quite a long and dragged out assignment so whenever Lorenzo wasn’t hanging out with his friends, he was with her.

Theodore subconsciously sat up straighter and leaned forward to get a better look at Y/N. Lorenzo described her as a pretty and bright girl with a warm perspective on life. Instead of saying “what’s the worst that could happen?” She always said “what’s the best that could happen?”

Theodore was somewhat impressed by how positive a person could be.

He didn’t notice he had been staring until Y/N turned her head, innocent E/C eyes burning holes into his. Theodore almost jumped. He quickly adverted his gaze, clenching his jaw.

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Y/N sit at the table beside him. She sat with her legs oddly crossed and her body was turned so she could look at him.

“Theodore Nott, right? Enzo’s friend?” Her voice was gentle, like a meadow full of daisies and glittering ponds of water.

Theodore thickly swallowed before he nodded. “Yeah. Lo’s talked about you. You were his partner for potions.” The brunette had never heard anybody call Lorenzo by Y/N’s nickname, but maybe that was because he didn’t allow anybody to call him that. Unless it was Y/N, of course.

The poor boy was smitten with her during fifth year but he shyly backed off when he realised he had too much competition. To this day, Draco was still trying to convince him to man up.

“He talked about me?”

“Only once or twice.” Theodore lied through his teeth. He may be a tease, but he refused to out his friend.

“The assignment we did was so annoying. I’m glad I had him as my partner. If it was anybody else, I would’ve gone mad.” Y/N signed and a small laugh slipped past her pink-tinted lips.

“You practically saved his herbology grades. Lo is smart but his plant knowledge is in the negatives.” Theodore huffed in amusement, his mouth curving into a sly smirk.

“He’s good with everything else, though.” Y/N uttered. Out of the whole Slytherin group, Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy had the highest grades. Blaise couldn’t care less; he still scored pretty high but grades weren’t his whole life. And Matteo and Theodore, the players they were, didn’t even bother studying for exams.

“Black coffee.” The barista suddenly called out, making Theodore realise he had never given the worker his name.

“That must be your’s.” Y/N said, nodding over at the steaming drink. She smiled, which almost set Theodore’s heart alight. It was already drowning in gasoline and her damn grin may as well be the flaming match. “Theo?” She waved a hand in front of his face as he spaced out.

“Huh?” Finally, his blank eyes shifted to stare at her.

“Your coffee.” Y/N reminded him.

“Oh. Right. I’ll see you later.” Theodore was quick to stand up and grab his drink, the paper cup burning the palm of his hand.

“See you later, Theo!” Y/N called out, not seeming to notice his uneasy mood.

Theodore sped walked out of the coffee shop, holding a hand to his chest. His stomach sank as dread overwhelmed him.

Him and Matteo were like two peas on a pod. They shared the same habits too, like drinking their sorrows away and smoking until their lungs burned. And let’s not forget their infamous reputations as playboys. Theodore Nott didn’t do relationships so he refused to let a soft Hufflepuff change his mind.

Despite shoving down whatever warm feeling he felt when he was next to Y/N, Theodore couldn’t help but crane his head in search for a certain flash of H/C hair.

“Black coffee. Extra hot.” He muttered absentmindedly to the same cashier who had served him a week before.

“Name?” She asked, bored eyes gazing up at him.

“Theo.” He quickly replied, turning his head again when he thought he saw Y/N. He felt disappointed when it wasn’t her. The worker seemed to notice.

“Are you looking for that Hufflepuff you were talking to last time?” She questioned, arching a thin brown eyebrow. Theodore glanced down at her name tag that read Eulia.

“No.” He quickly denied her inquiry, wrapping his long Slytherin scarf tighter around his bare neck.

“She comes in every week around this time. She’ll be here soon.” Eulia said, glancing over Theodore’s shoulder to take in the growing line. She cleared her throat, reminding Theodore of where he was.

As usual, he threw some coins onto the countertop and walked away to the same table he sat at before. His head perked up when he heard the sound of familiar laughter.

Y/N walked in, waving good-bye to her Ravenclaw friend. “The usual, Y/N?” Eulia asked, already typing her order into the monitor.

Y/N practically bounced over to Theodore, taking a seat in front of him. “Hey, long time no see. I thought I’d see you at school but I guess not.”

“I was busy.” Theodore lied. In truth, he had been hauled up in his dorm and listening to Draco rant about Pansy.

“Doing what?” Y/N innocently tilted her head to the side, genuinely curious.

Theodore, as blunt and brainless as ever, blurted out the first thing he could think of. “Weed, drugs, and smoking.” He wanted to bash his head into the table. What kind of response was that?

Yes, he used to do all those things but he had toned it down. The only addiction he had was smoking now.

“I don’t know why I said that. It was the first thing that popped up in the mind.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Y/N laughed, “By the way, your cigarettes are about to fall.” She pointed to the packet that was lazily shoved into Theodore’s pocket. He quickly caught it.

“I don’t do weed or drugs anymore.” He uttered, “Just so you know.”

From the coffee machines, Eulia rolled her eyes. “Coffee for Theo. Cinnamon chai latte for Y/N.” She called out, placing the drinks down.

Theodore quickly stood up. “I’ll get them.” He offered, not waiting for a response.

“Smooth.” Eulia said as he grabbed the drinks.

“Cut me some slack. I’m used to hooking up with toxic girls, not chatting over coffee with a sweet Hufflepuff.” Theodore lightly scoffed.

“So, Theo, what do you want to do when you graduate?” Y/N asked as soon as he sat back down again.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In all his years of Hogwarts, he had never thought about it. “What about you?”

“I want to open a bakery.” Y/N said like she had been waiting the question to come up.

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You like baking?”

“Yup! I’ll bake you something next week. Do you like chocolate?”

“Who doesn’t?” Theodore only knew one person who didn’t like chocolate, and that was Pansy. But to be fair, she had gotten food poisoning from spiked chocolate in third year.

It was safe to say that she spent most of that day hunched over the toilet while Matteo held back her hair and Lorenzo gently got her to drink water, which she threw up too but it’s the thought that counts.

“Great! I have to go now. I’m meeting up with another friend. See you at school, Theo!” Y/N effortlessly chugged her scorching hot drink. She slammed the cup against the table, grinning.

“What the…” Theodore was still trying to process what had just happened as he watched Y/N run out of the cafe and into the arms of her friend

The next week, Y/N arrived earlier than Theodore. He had been held up by Blaise, who was curious as to why he was visiting the same coffee shop three times in a row.

Theodore entered the store after managing to shake Blaise off. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering despite the atmosphere being warm.

Eulia, who seemed to be on duty every day, had already made his drink and placed it in front of Y/N. She was too busy doodling on his cup with a permanent marker to notice his sudden appearance.

“Cute outfit.” He said as he sat down, the legs of his chair scraping against the tilted floor. Y/N’s face visibly lit up at his small compliment. Theodore observed her pink sweater with little bows sewn on it and her short white skirt with fleece leggings lining her legs.

“As promised, your cookie.” Y/N slid the box over to Theodore, smiling. “I would recommend heating it up. A warm cookie is better than a cold and hard one.”

“Do you bake often?” Theodore asked, taking the box and letting it rest on his lap.

“I try to bake as much as I can. I like helping the house elves too.” Y/N began to fondly talk about her love for baking and as much as Theodore tried to focus on her words, his gaze wandered to a suspicious group huddled in the opposite corner.

Once Theodore looked past their dark sunglasses and large coats, he recognised them as his friends. He saw Draco shove past Pansy and he surely pointed at Y/N then at Theodore before slapped his hands together.

Theodore stared at him, puzzled. And it showed as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned. Y/N didn’t seem to notice his wavering attention, much to his relief.

“Do you want to bake together sometime, Theo?” Y/N asked, bringing him back to their conversation. He felt a little guilty because he hadn’t heard another word of what she had said.

“Sure. Though, I don’t think I’d be much help. Matt and I tried making edibles once and we messed that shit up.”

From behind Draco, Matteo glared at Theodore. It was your fault, he mouthed. He wasn’t lying, Theodore had gotten just about every ingredient in the recipe wrong.

“Edibles?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“Weed brownies.” Theodore elaborated, “But that was last year. I don’t do that anymore, remember? I only party and smoke.”

“I know. You told me.” Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Y/N’s gaze flickered to his packed of cigarettes that always looked like it was about to fall out.

“Would you like to come to a party with me?” Theodore asked, leaning forward. There was one in the Slytherin common room next week. Normally, people from other houses weren’t invited but if you had the right connections, you’d be let in.

“Parties aren’t my thing. I… don’t like the vibe. You know?”

“That’s fine. You ever tried smoking?”

“No. Cedric offered to teach me but I declined.” Y/N frowned at the lost opportunity.

“I’ll teach you.” Theodore said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you keeping me company wouldn’t be so bad.” He grabbed his packet, sliding it across the table. “These are my good ones. Keep ‘em and whenever you’re having a bad day or just wanna have a smoke, find me. I’ll light one for you.”

From across the room, Matteo lightly gasped. Theodore never ever shared his good cigarettes with anyone, not even him.

“Really?” Y/N picked up the worn-out box, staring at it.

“Yeah. I gotta get going. My friends are probably wondering where I am.” Theodore, once again, lied through his teeth. He knew his friends had questions and he didn’t want to keep them waiting. He stood up, feeling Pansy’s gaze burn a hole through him.

“Enjoy the cookie!” Y/N exclaimed, grinning and waving him off.

Theodore smiled. “I’m sure I will, love.” He walked out of the cafe, his friends following close behind and bombarding him just like he had predicted.

“You clearly have some sort of feelings towards her.” Panay said as she poked the brunette beside him. All throughout breakfast, Panay had been trying to get Theodore to admit his growing affection for Y/N. He denied it every time.

“I don’t.” He said for the third time, leaning down to stuff some bacon into his mouth. As he quickly chewed, his gaze flickered to Y/N.

“You’re looking at her again!” Pansy exclaimed, huffing. “It’s so obvious you like her!”

“Where’s Lo and Draco?” Theodore changed the subject, realising the two boys were missing.

“You can’t change the topic. You like her and you know it.” Unfortunately for Theodore, Pansy was persistent. Maybe a little too much.

“Theo likes who?” Lorenzo tilted his head to the side in curiosity. The whole group, even Blaise who laughed at awkward situations, froze.

Nobody responded for a moment before Blaise put down his fork. “Y/N. He likes Y/N L/N.” Theodore glared at the boy, wondering why on hell he’d even tell Lorenzo the truth.

“… Oh.” Lorenzo didn’t say much as he sat down, glancing over at Y/N. “You’re not going to break her heart, right?”

“I don’t like her. End of conversation.” Theodore groaned, taking a huge gulp from his goblet.

“I don’t believe you.” Lorenzo uttered, pointing his fork at Theodore’s eyes, “Your eyes say it all. You keep looking at her every minute and when you do, your eyes soften.”

Pansy snickered, nudging Theodore. “Told you.”

“If you don’t like her, then you wouldn’t mind if someone else asked her out, would you?” Matteo piped up.

“You aren’t her type.” Theodore immediately replied, scoffing.

“We’re practically the same, Theo. If I’m not her type then you aren’t. She’s pretty and all but I don’t date. That guy, on the other hand, seems like he does.” Matteo pointed over to a Ravenclaw boy approaching Y/N. The whole Slytherin group watched as he nervously asked her something and when she slowly nodded, his face lit up.

Theodore clenched his hands into fists. “Did he just ask her out?” He seethed, clenching his jaw.

“You don’t like her, remember? You shouldn’t care.” As usual, Matteo had that same infuriating smirk on his face. “Anyway, what are we doing for the party tonight?”

Theodore had forgotten all about it. He faintly remembered Y/N saying parties weren’t her thing. Did she like guys who didn’t party? That Ravenclaw boy looked like he didn’t. Is that why she said yes?

“I’m not doing. Not really my thing.” He uttered, shrugging. His friends looked at him in disbelief.

“Not your thing?” Matteo stammered, “Mate, the only thing you do is party! What’s gotten into you?!”

“He’s trying to turn into Y/N’s ideal type.” Pansy snickered, “He knows he isn’t the blueprint and he can’t see her with anyone else so he’s improving himself.”

“Respect, bro. But what about Izzi?” Matteo motioned to the Slytherin girl down a few rows who was Theodore’s favourite hookup.

“I don’t care about her.”

“What about the drinks?”

“I need to cut my alcohol intake.”

“Smoking? You can’t give up smoking! You’re addicted!”

“Y/N has my cigs. When she wants to learn, I’ll teach her.”

“And if she never wants to learn?”

“Then I won’t pester her. Not smoking for a while might do me some good.” Theodore on the brink of giving up smoking for some girl was a huge deal.

Matteo leaned over to Draco, “Is he sick?”

Pansy lightly snorted and she teasingly grinned, “If you mean lovesick, then yeah.”

To be honest, Theodore didn’t even know what he was doing. His head tried to convince him to return to the common room and drink like he usually did, but his heart said no.

That’s how he ended up in the courtyard, enjoying the fresh breeze.

“Theo?” An all too familiar voice called out. He practically spun around, facing Y/N. “I thought you’d be at your party.” She stared at him, confused.

“I’m taking a break from all that.” He said. Y/N silently sat beside him on the stone bench.

“I still have your cigarettes if you want them.” Y/N said, handing the packet over. “I thought about it and I don’t think I want to smoke just yet.”

“Thanks, love.” Theodore took the box, shoving it into his pocket without hesitation. Normally, he’d take one out and light it up but tonight was different.

“So, that Ravenclaw boy.” Theodore drawled. “He asked you out, huh?”

“Hm? Oh, Rowan? Yeah. I only said yes to be nice though because he helped me with some work last year.”

“You’re too kind, love. You need to know your boundaries.”

Y/N’s cheeks heated up at the sound of his endearing nickname. “I can’t say no now. It’ll just be one date then I’ll say it didn’t work out.”

“What if he wants a second date? What will you do?” Theodore moved closer to Y/N so he could feel the warmth radiating off her body. His heart jumped at their close proximity.

“Then I’ll tell him I don’t want one.” Y/N whispered, staring up at Theodore with those gentle eyes he liked so much.

“I liked your cookie, by the way.” Theodore slowly smiled, “It was good.”

“I’ll bake you a few more next time.” Y/N beamed. “I’m trying a new recipe for a brownie so I’ll give you one too!” Theodore smiled as she jumped into another rant about baking. This time, he could actually listen without being pestered by his friends.

Theodore, as usual, walked into the cafe around the same time he usually did. Eulia spotted him and subtly waved. “Has Y/N come in yet?” He asked.

Eulia hesitated before she pointed over at Y/N and Rowan. Theodore visibly deflated. He knew Y/N was only being nice to the Ravenclaw but he still felt a twinge of sadness.

“I’m sorry, Theo. If it makes you feel better, she hasn’t looked like she’s enjoyed the date. She looks much happier talking to you.” Eulia handed him his coffee.

“Right.” He sat down at a nearby table, glancing over at Y/N every so often. The slight pang in his heart reminded him of why he never dated in the first place. He quietly cleared his throat, deciding that whatever butterflies he felt for Y/N had to be drowned.

He stood up and Y/N immediately caught his gaze. She smiled and waved when Rowan wasn’t looking, but Theodore ignored her. Slowly, she lowered her hand.

As Rowan ranted on about how Ravenclaw was the best house, Y/N couldn’t help but think of what she had done to possibly anger Theodore. So much that he ignored her when he usually enjoyed her small smiles and secretive waves. She blocked out Rowan’s voice, frowning. He couldn’t grab her attention like Theodore could.

If only she knew that Theodore was simply trying not to fall in love.

Theodore avoided her for the rest of the week. Whenever she tried to approach him, he’d walk away. Even his friends were puzzled. After another failed attempt of trying to talk to Theodore, Pansy placed a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll talk to him.” She said.

“I don’t know what I did wrong. He’s been acting so moody all of a sudden.” Y/N sighed and pouted.

“Maybe he’s on his period.” Matteo snickered at his own joke but immediately stopped when nobody else laughed with him. “I mean, Theo hasn’t had a good drink, fuck, or smoke since Monday. And all he did on that day was smoke for five minutes before he got caught.”

“I thought he liked doing all those things. Why’d he stop if it’s just going to make him grumpy?” Y/N murmured, playing with the hem of her blouse. Matteo and Pansy exchanged a glance, knowing they shouldn’t expose Theodore so early.

“He’s just being unreasonable. Don’t worry, we’ll get through to him.” Matteo grinned, his eyes flickered to the box in Y/N’s hands. “More cookies for him?”

She nodded. “Could you give this to him? It might make him feel better.” Matteo lowly hummed, taking the box. He and Pansy walked off after Theodore, muttering to each other about what could possibly be wrong with their friend.

“Theo.” Matteo called out as they entered the Slytherin Chamber. They found him sprawled out on the couch, a burning cigarette in his mouth. “Y/N made you cookies.”

Theodore looked at the box in Matteo’s outstretched arms. “I don’t want ‘em.” He said with a lazy flick of his hands.

“But you said you love her cookies. Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Matteo scoffed as he grabbed one, shoving it into his mouth. “If a girl made me cookies like these, I’d fall in love.”

“That’s the problem!” Theodore exclaimed loudly. “I’m Theodore Nott, Hogwarts resident fuck boy. I don’t do relationships! But Y/N- Y/N is making me feel things I shouldn’t!” He groaned, pulling at the ends of his hair.

“That’s the problem?” Pansy huffed, taking a seat beside him. “Theo, look at yourself. You haven’t partied in ages, you haven’t drank, you haven’t had sex with any other girl since last month. And you haven’t been smoking up until now! If you’re willing to stop all that shit for Y/N then you obviously like her!”

“What if I’m just concealing it, huh? What if I haven’t changed and if I date Y/N, then I hurt her? I don’t care about any other girl’s feelings but Y/N, fuck. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Figure your feelings out then decide what you want to do. Easy peasy.” Matteo shrugged, eating another cookie. Theodore clicked his tongue, snatching the box out of his hands.

“It better be easy or I’m going to smoke all your favourite cigs, Matt.”

Matteo was lying. It was not easy to figure out how he felt towards Y/N. Every time he got close to her, he changed his mind last minute and rushed off. It earned him some weird looks but he couldn’t care less.

“Have you even slept lately?” Matteo questioned, slamming a cup of coffee in front of Theodore. He groaned.

“Do I look like I’ve slept?” He muttered, glowing at Matteo.

“Like a baby.” His friend teased, cruelly laughing. Lorenzo glanced over Theodore’s shoulder, clearing his throat.

“Y/N’s coming this way.” He whispered, kicking Theodore.

“What?” He looked around, panicked. Y/N was indeed walking towards him. He grabbed his coffee, splashing it onto Matteo’s wrinkled blouse.

“Yo! What the fuck, dude? That’s hot!” Matteo seethed, resisting the urge to peel his wet shirt off. Some girls hoped he would.

“Sorry, Matt. It was an accident. I’ll help you clean up.” Theodore tried to play his stunt off as an accident while practically dragging Matteo out of the hall.

“Okay, seriously, what was that all about?”

“I needed an excuse to get away.”

“So you spilled hot coffee on me?!”

“I would’ve let you do the same.” Theodore glared at his friend as he sat down and slumped. “She’s everywhere. How is she so social? I can’t get away from her.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.

“Have you been running away from Y/N this whole time?” Matteo questioned, arching an eyebrow. “It’s hilarious to imagine you running away from a girl.”

“Shut up. I’m processing things.” Theodore sighed.

“Just talk to her, Theo.” Matteo lightly nudged his leg, “What else can you lose? You’ve already lost your dignity.”

It had been a few weeks since Theodore had returned to the coffee shop. But finally, he strutted through the doorway with his usual uncaring demeanour.

Someone else entered as Theodore stood in the middle of the room, taking in everything he had missed about this cafe.

“Theo?” Y/N asked, peering over his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” He stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you having a coffee?”

“I’ve already had one, actually. I was just seeing if this place had changed.” Theodore wanted to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N’s eyes.

“Well, there’s no harm in having another one, right? It’s on me.” Y/N smiled at Eulia, “One cinnamon chai latte and…” She thought for a moment, glancing over at Theodore, “You’ve already had a coffee so one cream latte as well!”

Y/N paid and brushed past Theodore.

“Kiss her.” Eulia hissed, harshly poking Theodore’s shoulder.

“I’m not kissing her.” Theodore replied back in a hushed whisper.

“Theo, you coming?” Y/N called out, looking over her shoulder.

There was barely anybody in the cafe and even if there was, Eulia would’ve ignored their drinks to make Y/N and Theodore’s.

Theodore reached out to grab his but Y/N was quicker. She grasped both drinks, smiling at him. “We don’t have to be back at school for a while so let’s sit here.”

Theodore nervously followed behind Y/N to their usual table. He sat down, rigid and stiff. He saw his cup and glared at Eulia, who laughed. She had written a message on the cardboard, kiss her, and Theodore was quick to cover it.

He looked out the window, almost jumping with joy when he saw Matteo. “Oh! Matt! I need to talk to him! Sorry, Y/N. I’ll see you later!” He ran out of the cafe, crashing into his friend.

“Matteo! Quick! Do something!” Theodore shook his friend, urging him to create a distraction.

“Is this about Y/N?” He asked.

“She’s in the coffee shop- don’t look!” Theodore shoved his friend.

“And you need me to something stupid?”

Theodore eagerly nodded but was unprepared when Matteo pushed him forward and down a snowy hill. “Theo! Sorry! My hand slipped! I’m coming!” Matteo yelled out in a fake worried voice as Theodore rolled and got a mouthful of snow.

Y/N watched their strange interaction as she sipped on her drink. “… He didn’t call me love like he usually does.”

Y/N hummed to herself as she slipped on a pair of mittens and took out a tray of cookies. She placed the hot metal tray on the counter, the smell of baked goods wafting through the air.

She poured herself a cup of light coffee and sat down, swinging her legs. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of quiet swearing and smelled the scent of cigarettes and cologne.

“Theo?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. It was silent for a moment before the boy sheepishly pushed the kitchen doors open.

“I was looking for a snack for Pansy. She’s not feeling well.” He looked around, staring at everything but Y/N.

“I would offer her a cookie but she doesn’t really like chocolate, does she?” Y/N circled her finger around the rim of her cup, “Would you like some coffee? I made it myself.”

Theodore found himself sitting across from her against his will. He watched as she poured him a cup, softly smiling.

“Thanks.” He stammered, grabbing the white mug and gulping it down.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Careful! Isn’t it hot?”

Theodore slammed the cup down, ignoring the burning sensation on his tongue. “No.” He wheezed, his vocal cords threatening to give up on him, “I’m fine. Tastes great.”

“You’ve spilled some.” Y/N said. She leaned forward, pointing at his collar. His top two buttons were undone and hot coffee trickled down his skin. “That must hurt. Here, let me help.”

Y/N dabbed a tissue against Theodore’s collar and he flinched as her fingers came in contact with his exposed skin. She noticed, peeking up at him through her lashes.

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t stand having one coffee with me?” She asked, taking a small step back.

“What?” Theodore choked. He didn’t hate her, quite the opposite to be honest.

“You keep running away from me. And you left me in the cafe the other day. And you didn’t wave back. Do you hate me?”

Theodore hated how he could see her E/C eyes glass over. He fiddled with his mug, tapping his nails against the porcelain.

“I… have to go. Pansy needs me.” He stood up, leaving without another word. He was doing what he did best; running away from his problems.

With Theodore out of the picture, Y/N felt lonely. She dug around in her pocket, confused when she fished out a cigarette. “Oh… it must’ve fallen out.” She murmured.

She was on her way to the cafe, but not to meet up with Theodore. The day after he had walked out on her, again, a Gryffindor had approached her and asked her out. She said yes in hopes this date would be better than her date with Rowan.

Spoiler alert, it wasn’t. In fact, she felt like it was worse. Y/N stared at her cup as the boy beside her talked on and on about his love for quidditch.

“What’s your hobby?” He suddenly asked.

“Baking.” Y/N answered absentmindedly.

“Oh, that’s kind of boring. Quidditch is better, don’t you think?”

Y/N resisted the urge to sigh. Theodore never insulted her love for baking.

“Do you do anything else?” The boy questioned.

“I study.”

“Jeez, you really are boring. You wanna come to a party with me? I know a guy who’ll hook us up with some coke.”

“No thanks.” Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, watching the clock closely so she could dart away as soon as the date was over.

Someone suddenly pulled up a chair in front of Y/N. “Coke is boring.” Theodore uttered, “Baking is better.”

Y/N tried to conceal her smile since she was still upset with him, but when he winked at her, she couldn’t help it.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” The Gryffindor sneered.

“I’m here to thank you for keeping my girl company.” Theodore grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. “Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He grabbed Y/N by the wrist, tugging her out of the cafe.

“Why do you choose the shittiest guys to go out with?” Theodore asked.

Y/N lightly huffed. “It’s not like I mean to. At least they don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk, though.”

“You still upset with me, love?”

“You hurt my feelings, Nott.” Y/N pulled out the lone cigarette, shoving it into Theodore’s hand, before hurrying off.

He quickly placed it between his lips and lit it. “Let me explain, love!” He exclaimed, chasing after her. He breathed out a mouthful of smoke.

“Okay. Then explain.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest.

“What? Here? Now?” When Theodore saw the unamused look on Y/N’s face, he sighed. “Fine, but this is going to sound stupid.” He took another hit from his cigarette, needing all the courage he could get.

He took a deep breath. “I think you’re wonderful person and I didn’t want to risk hurting you so I tried to distance myself but that backfired and I was trying to process my feelings because I’m Theodore Nott. I don’t do relationships. But you made me want to give it a go so I got scared and that made me do stupid shit like spilling coffee on Matt or running away or allowing Matt to push me down a hill.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Y/N! I like the way you smile and the way your eyes light up and I like how you look and me and how fond you are of baking! I like how you take the time to make me cookies because it makes me feel special! You treat me so differently from other girls and that’s how I know you aren’t just around for a hook up! I like your perfume and your hair and your outfits and the way you skip when you’re happy and how you read classic Muggle books because you want a cute teen romance!”

“You noticed all of that… about me?”

“How could I not? You have such a charming aura and I can’t stand it because no matter how much I try to deny it, I like you.”

“You really like me?” Y/N knew about Theodore’s reputation and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel the same way. But what if he was just toying with her?

“I do.”

“Okay then. Hug me!” Y/N exclaimed, confident he was joking. Theodore shrugged before embracing her tightly. “Uh… hold my hand!” He intertwined their fingers without hesitation. “Kiss me!” Y/N was sure he wouldn’t do it but when he leaned down and pecked her lips, she froze.

“Are you done? There’s a lot more things I’d do for you, Y/N.”

“Are you sure you like me? Like, really? Because what if we get married and you decide you don’t like me but we already have two kids and a cat together? Who will keep the cat? Or will we have shared custody over it?” Y/N spoke so fast Theodore could hardly understand her.

“What about the children?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“What about the cat, Theo?”

“I really do like you, Y/N. Believe it or not. I’m willing to give dating a try… if it makes I can date you.”

“Please don’t break my heart, Theo.”

“I won’t.”

“Can we finally drink coffee together without you running off?” Y/N questioned, which earned her a small chuckle from Theodore.

“I won’t run away this time, love. I promise.”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ｖｅｒｙ ｂａｄ ｔｈｉｎｇｓ♡

♡ Pairing: mafia!wooyoung x chubby!fem!stripper!reader, other members mentioned

♡ Genre: smut

♡ Summary: When your best friend ropes you into working a bachelor party with her on your day off you're positive you know exactly what to expect. A bunch of gross drunk guys trying to put their hands on you. Instead you stumble into the exact opposite situation, finding yourself drawn to one man in particular who has you doing something you never thought you would.

♡ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: woo offers you money for sex and you take it, tattooed woo, drinking, partying, this man really likes licking you, low-key body worship, teasing, pentrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, tit sucking, manhandling, multiple orgasms, orgasm control, a lil dom woo if you squint, a lil pain play, pet names (good girl, pretty, beautiful, cutie, baby), and that's about it babes.

♡ A/N: What can I say? I love Wooyoung. I love mafia boys. I love thicc strippers. Mix all that with a lengthy Megan thee Stallion playlist and this is where I ended up. As always, I hope my chubby hot girls out there enjoy this. Love yeeew ♡

This was supposed to be your night off. You should be bed rotting in your pajamas while you shovel snacks into your mouth and binge your favorite K-drama. Instead you’re half naked in the penthouse suite of some posh high rise straddling the lap of a pretty dark haired boy who just knocked back a shot of tequila and is seconds away from licking the salt from your cleavage.

You let out a giggle at how his tongue tickles as it drags along your skin. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your sparkly pink acrylics swirling in the silky strands as you tilt his head back to let him bite down on the lime wedged between your plush lips. He grins from ear to ear, arms looping around your waist to bring you closer. Your lips are dangerously close to touching. If his cock straining against his pants didn’t give away how badly he’d love for that to happen, that lust filled glimmer in his eyes would.

When he sucks the juice from the lime you pluck it from his mouth, delicately licking the last drop from his bottom lip. He lets out a groan too low for anyone else to hear over the music that fills the penthouse but you hear it. You feel it.

“So, what’s your name again, sugar?” you ask, tugging at his hair a little harder. His eyes nearly roll back at how satisfying the pain is. 

“Wooyoung, sugar. What’s yours?” he whispers, sliding his hands down to cup your ass. You’re wearing a thong, leaving almost nothing between the warmth of his palms and the smooth skin of your ass. He gives it a gentle squeeze and you let out an airy moan that falls on his tongue as sweet as candy. 

“Mmmm” you hum, grinding down on his clothed cock just enough to make it twitch, “Be a good boy tonight and maybe I’ll tell you.” 

Your best friend Anya flicks at one of the silver star charms decorating your hair as she walks by hand in hand with an equally pretty boy you’re sure you heard someone call “Yeosang” earlier.  

“She’s not being a tease is she?” she jokes.

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting her hand away, “I’m not a tease.” 

Wooyoung only shrugs, “She is a tease but that’s okay. I like it.” He squeezes your ass harder and a little squeak escapes you. 

“Hey! I said you had to be good” you scold, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. 

He releases his hold on you, fingertips petting the small of your back, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

“You swear?” you pout, enjoying how easily he’s gotten wrapped around your finger. 

Wooyoung raises a pinky and hooks it around yours, “Pinky swear.”

For a fleeting moment you catch yourself falling for his charms. It’s difficult not to when he’s this hot. In fact, every man in this room is drop dead gorgeous. When Anya first asked you to work this bachelor party with her you were dreading it. Bachelor parties are usually filled with drunk, messy men who can barely string a sentence together let alone be charming.

It’s always good money but you weren’t in the mood to be gawked at by a bunch of asshole frat boys or handsy businessmen so you had every intention of telling her no. You much preferred your bed to a second of that but after all the times she’s had your back you couldn’t bring yourself not to do her this favor so you threw on your cutest lingerie, strapped on your stilettos, and got your cute ass over here. 

Much to your surprise and relief this is nothing like other bachelor parties you’ve worked. Of course they wanna see you naked. They wanna touch you, watch you dance for them. That’s the same with every man. But this group is so generous, so sweet, so willing to tend to the two of you that you’ve almost forgotten that you were working.

“Could you be a sweetheart and grab me a drink?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, “My throat’s a little dry and someone drank my last shot of tequila.” That someone being him. 

Wooyoung laughs, lifting you off of him and placing you carefully at his side, “Of course. Anything for you. What do you want?”

As Wooyoung rises from the couch you swing your feet up and he catches you by the ankles, slowly massaging your legs. You shrug, nibbling at your lip while his hands slip closer to your pillowy thighs, “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you…” he nods, his fingers sinking into your thighs, “Okay. I can do that.” He leans forward, kissing the inside of your knees before he wanders off to get you a drink.

Lying back on the couch you catch an inverted view of Anya chatting up Yeosang and finding any excuse to feel his muscles through his shirt. After a bit another man slips in beside her. You’re able to eavesdrop close enough to hear her say his name. Jongho. You’re sure he’s the youngest of the group. He’s quiet, difficult to read, but such a cutie. 

Speaking of cuties, you wonder how the man of the night is doing. Hongjoong—that’s the one name you absolutely had to remember—he’s the one getting married in a few days and you must admit his fiance’s one lucky girl. He was kind when the two of you arrived, offering you drinks and making sure you settled in fine, but he’s acted so innocent all night.

You’re sure he still hasn’t moved from that spot in the corner where he’s been sitting nursing the same drink all night. Every few minutes he checks his phone. You’re sure it’s to text his fiance. Some girls might be offended by that but you can’t bring yourself to care. You find it quite sweet actually and you get paid either way.

“Aaah…” you gasp at the sensation of something cool kissing your skin. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look up to find Wooyoung standing over you balancing an ice cold glass of something on your belly. 

He giggles at the shock on your face, sliding it up your body to watch how your back arches in response. “For you, pretty girl.”

Carefully you take the glass, admiring the electric blue syrup swirling around inside of it. You raise it to your lips, sipping at the sweet liquid. Wooyoung kneels down beside you, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear as you drink. He studies your side profile in silent fascination, admiring all of the finer details of your face. It’s a cliche thought, he knows this, but he can’t help wondering how such a delicately beautiful creature ended up in a line of work like this. Then again, with a face like this and a body like that, why wouldn’t you make men pay to be in your presence?

“How’s it taste?” he asks, only barely breaking himself from his trance.

His voice is low and dripping with need. His breath skims your neck like a trail of kisses and you catch yourself wishing that it were. Your pulse races, the tingling between your thighs growing too intense to ignore. You turning a guy on at work? It happens everyday. A guy turning you on? That’s never happened before, not during a single night on the job, but there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?

“You tell me,” you say, offering him a sip. As you do so your hand trembles enough for some of the alcohol to spill over the brim and onto your fingers. 

Wooyoung locks eyes with you, deep pools of brown pulling you into his gaze. Setting the glass down on the floor, he takes you by the wrist, gently stroking it as he presses your fingers to his lips. His tongue darts out, twirling around each and every finger to lick them clean. You never could’ve predicted that something like this would get you wet but here you are. That tingling between your thighs? It’s unbearable now. You squeeze them together, bringing your attention to how wet he’s managed to get you. You hate it and love it all at once. 

“You taste delicious” he grins, kissing your inner wrist. 

It makes you shiver and you pull your hand back, fighting to get a hold on yourself, “I thought we were talking about the drink, not me.”

Wooyoung shrugs, running his fingers down your side, “I don’t know, were we?” 

You should stop him but lust has you locked in place, letting his hand venture below your waist without a word of protest on your part. He squeezes the plush of your thigh, tucking a thumb between them so that it hovers a mere inch away from the wet fabric clinging to your warmth. In this moment everyone else in the room fades away. Even the music seems as if it’s traveled miles to reach your ears. You can only focus on each other. The way your breath hitches the closer he gets to stroking your clit through the lace. The way his eyes seem to twinkle as he watches you grow more and more needy for him as the seconds pass. His thumb’s so close you can almost feel it. Something in you tells you to shift your body down on the couch a little bit, close the distance and give yourself that relief you want so badly. 

“You didn’t pay for that” you snap, shooing his hand away, “That’s not on the menu, babe.” 

Without missing a beat Wooyoung retrieves his phone from his back pocket, swiping on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. It’s a CashApp screen and the keyboard’s already up for you to type your name into the search bar.

“Can I request something off the menu then?”

You shoot upright on the couch, shocked by what you see on the screen. “You’re joking” you laugh, motioning to hand his phone back.

Wooyoung stops you before you can, his expression more serious than you’ve seen it all night. “I want you.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“Try me…”

You wait for him to give it up but he doesn’t waver, not in the slightest. You huff, finding your account and tapping in an amount triple your fee for dancing. “There. You happy?” 

Wooyoung happily takes his phone back, hitting a single button before presenting you with the screen. “As long as you are.”

“Holy shit” you gasp, eyes glued to the screen. He actually did it. He sent you the money. Truth be told if he kept up all the teasing you probably would’ve slept with him before the night was over anyway but the fact that he was willing to pay for it? That’s a twist you didn’t see coming. 

“You…you’re crazy” you giggle, cupping that wonderfully defined face of his, “Fucking insane.”

Wooyoung doesn’t seem offended by that in the least. In fact, he takes it as a compliment. “But you like it…” he grins as he stands back up, sweeping your drink up with one hand and extending the other to you, “Don’t you?” 

You stare at him defiantly, refusing to respond. Not that you need to. The answer’s written all over your face in that faint smile you couldn’t chase away if you tried. A smile that lingers there as he takes you by the hand, guiding you down the nearby hallway and into the master bedroom of the penthouse.

The rest of the penthouse is gorgeous, the sort of place you only see in design magazines, and the master bedroom’s no different. It’s dimly lit with soft white light emitting from a sleek Swedish lamp in the corner. The pristine white walls are adorned with intricate paintings, all originals. All of the furniture’s designer, most notably the king size bed positioned across the room opposite ceiling to floor windows that overlook the city. You’re up much too high for anyone to see you but it feels like you can see the whole world from here. 

Wooyoung quickly takes notice of how charmed you are by the view. “You can check it out if you want,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “I’m not in a rush.” He can’t hold back his amusement at how giddy you are rushing over to the window to take in the sights. You’re quite possibly the cutest thing ever. 

“Whose place is this anyway?” you ask, unable to peel yourself away from the twinkling lights of the city below. Usually you steer clear of personal questions—it’s better that way—but something about Wooyoung makes you comfortable enough to ask. 

Chugging the rest of your drink, he lays back on the bed, glaring up at the spiraling design on the ceiling. “You remember the tall one? Kinda goofy?”

You run down a mental list of the boys at the party and narrow it down to two. “Which one?”

Wooyoung nearly chokes laughing, “Which one? Oh my god.”

“What?” you pout, truly not meaning any harm, “There’s two of them.”

“Mingi, the one with the deep voice. This is his place. He moved in, I don’t know, a month ago. Nice isn’t it?”

“Do you all live like this?” There you go again, asking questions you know you shouldn’t.

Wooyoung turns to look at you, his reflection immediately capturing your attention. “For the most part, yeah.”

You spin around to face him, on the verge of melting under the heat of his gaze, “Are you a drug dealer or something, Woo?”

He lets that question linger in the air, gesturing for you to come to him. “Come here, beautiful. You’re too far away.”

You skip over to the bed, your body jiggling so deliciously that he’s tempted to send you back over to the window just to see you come back again. Hopping onto the bed, you throw one leg across his waist, straddling his lap. “Better?”

He cups your cheek, bringing you in so that you’re face to face, his lips skimming yours once more. “Better.” 

“You didn’t answer my question” you whisper, rocking your hips against a bulge that’s even harder for you than before. 

Wooyoung loops an arm around your waist, keeping you flush against him, “If I answer your question will you tell me your name?”

“Mmhmm” you whine at the friction between you.

The fabric of your panties is flimsy enough that you can feel the texture of his pants—the pressure of his cock straining against them. It makes your mind go fuzzy. Wooyoung knows this because you’re doing the same to him.

“I’m a very bad man who does very bad things but not that. Not anymore” he confesses, flipping you onto your back in one effortless motion.

Any attempt you could’ve made to respond is silenced when his lips finally crash into yours. You teased him for hours, taking every opportunity to almost kiss him knowing from the start how badly he wanted you. Now that he can finally have you—satisfy the hunger that’s been building inside all night—he’s ravenous, holding nothing back.

“Your turn” he whispers between your lips, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion, not once breaking the kiss. 

The room’s still spinning when you part your lips to answer his question. As a rule you always give a fake name—one of the pretty ones that you and Anya came up with to stop creeps from finding you out in the real world—but for some reason you can’t lie to Wooyoung. With him kissing you like he wants to devour your very soul, the only possible thing you can spill out is the truth.

Wooyoung kisses his way down your neck, inhaling the sugary scent of your perfume as he drags his tongue between your breasts. “Such a pretty name. I like it.”

“I…I like your name too” you stutter, fingers combing through his hair, “Wooyoung’s a pretty name.”

Catching the fabric of your top between his teeth, he tugs harshly, causing the knots holding it together to slip. Your lush breasts fall free from your top, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up at the feeling of your stiff buds brushing the fabric of his shirt. 

“Mmm, say it again” he groans, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple, “It sounds so fucking good when you say it.” 

Taking your bud between his teeth, he sucks harshly at it, treating you to a combination of pain and pleasure that’s nothing short of addictive. Wedging a knee between your legs, he pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to knot your panties in his fist. Your body jerks as he snatches them away, leaving your dripping pussy exposed. Slipping two fingers between your folds, he spreads you open, letting his middle finger slide back and forth across your clit. 

“Wooyoung…mmph…” you moan, arching into his touch, “Woo…aah”. 

Wooyoung dips his fingers down to your clenching hole, stretching you open enough to give you a taste of what your body’s begging for.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, drooling around your swollen nipple. 

“Yes, please” you beg, your breath hitching as his fingers, already slick with your arousal, push into you. 

His movements are slow at first. Two fingers sliding in and out of you, gently stroking your pulsing walls. Your walls are so velvety and warm that he could spend all night petting them. No pussy’s ever felt this good wound around his fingers. His cock aches at the thought of how heavenly it must be to be inside of you. But that’s not truly where his head is right now. He’s solely focused on sneaking a third finger into your pussy, quickening his pace to make sure you never stop making all these pretty noises.

Wooyoung’s fingers are like magic and he’s insanely attentive, effortlessly picking up on your sweet spots and hitting them every single time. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, pushing you so close to your high that your lips are quivering. Wooyoung may be a very bad man who does very bad things but he’s so so good to you.

You tug at his hair, wanting another kiss but unable to form the words to ask for one. Guessing what you want—he wants it too—he leans up and pulls you into another kiss. Your lips collide right on the edge of your orgasm, his tongue dancing with yours as the euphoria hits and you clench around his fingers. 

“Good girl” he praises, “Are you always this gorgeous when you cum or is this just for me?”

His admiration only heightens the intensity of your orgasm. That coupled with the fact that he hasn’t let up on you has you ready to fall apart right here and now. After a couple seconds you figured he’d slow down, give you some time to recover, but no, he just keeps going.

“One more for me” he whispers, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit. 

“Woo, I can’t. Too much” you whine, grabbing onto his shirt hard enough to tear it.

He doesn’t care if you do. He meant it when he said you’re gorgeous when you cum. Your faces are perfection and your body’s glowing. When you look like this you could tear up everything he owns and he’d let you get away with it. 

“You can do it, baby. Just look at you. You’re already so close again, aren’t you?” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

A split second. That’s all you get to come down, if you can call it that, before the pressure’s building again and you’re coming so hard it has your ears ringing. This time he shows you mercy, gradually slowing his motions, showering you in the sweetest kisses while you come down. Climbing off of you, he stands at the foot of the bed, licking his drenched fingers.

“I was right. You are delicious.” 

You roll your eyes, trying hard not to give away how sickeningly hot you find him. “Are you always like this?”

There it is again. That mischievous grin that he’s been flashing you all night. The one you can blame for getting you into this situation to begin with. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a tattooed chest you just can’t wait to dig your nails into.

“Like what?” he asks, undoing his belt. 

“Like a menace” is what you want to say but you can’t. Wooyoung’s pants are at his ankles now and he has the nerve to stand there like he doesn’t know how glorious his cock is. You don’t need a fully lit room to see how flawless, how beautifully veined, how totally made for you it is. 

“Like what, cutie?” he repeats, grabbing your ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed. Tucking his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs back, spreading them open to push the head of his cock up against your twitching pussy. 

You moan at the satisfying warmth of his arousal coating your slit, hips pressing down to stretch yourself with the tip.

“I don’t even know anymore. I’m just so…so…”

“So pretty…” he grunts, driving his length into you so deep that you feel it in your chest. Every word he says is accompanied by a thrust that rocks you to your core, little dots of color decorating your vision. “So beautiful. So fucking sexy when you take my cock.”

Your pussy’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It’s enough to make his head spin and his knees weak. His cock’s never indulged in something this decadent. It’s so good—maybe too good. When you first walked through the door tonight Wooyoung knew it would be. Something about you said you were sitting on a pussy like gold and he wasn’t wrong. Not even a little bit.

You can’t even pretend that you don’t feel the same way. You’re bouncing back against his cock, clamping down on him like you’ll die if he pulls out. Every stroke of his cock floods your senses with pleasure, worsening the moisture leaking from your needy hole onto the expensive sheets. It’s so overstimulating. The length. The thickness. How he throbs in response to every flutter of your walls, filling you up exactly how you need to be filled.

Shifting angles, he mercilessly drills into your sweet spot, making you lose control of your already weakened limbs. You can’t raise your hips. You can’t bounce back on him. You can’t do anything at all besides lay there and take every inch of cock that he feeds you. It’s only a matter of time before your breath’s hitching again, that airy feeling overtaking your body. 

“Look at me” he commands when your head falls back, glossy eyes rolling to the back of your head. Letting one of your legs drop, he slaps a hand down on the softness of your belly and grips it hard enough to sting. 

“Mmph, Woo…” you moan, teary eyes finding his gaze as your nails rake across the sheets. There’s a darkness in his expression that intimidates you as much as it turns you on.

A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of your broken voice moaning his name. “You look at me when you cum or I’ll stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you, baby?” 

You shake your head, pouting cutely. You make him weaker than you can imagine but that’s not enough for him. He knows you can do better than that. 

Slowing down to an agonizingly slow pace, he drags his fingers down your belly to play with your clit. “I don’t believe you. I think you want me to stop.”

“No, don’t stop” you whine, rocking up and down his length, “I won’t look away. I promise. Fuck me, Youngie, please.”

Wooyoung folds for you in an instant, fucking into you hard enough that the headboard’s rocking. You reach out for his hand and he gives it to you, fingers interlacing with yours as your high takes you under.

This is the third time he’s seen you cum—the third time he’s watched you moan and arch and cry out for him—and each time’s more perfect than the last. Good thing this isn’t the last. In fact, it’s far from it. You’re his for the night and by the time he’s done with you he’ll have every face you make, every desperate little moan, committed to memory. 

[23victoria]

promise ring

ꨄ༊*·˚ pairings: 𝐟𝟏 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 𝟏.𝟒𝐤

ꨄ༊*·˚ synopsis: 𝐟𝟏 𝐠𝐫𝐢��� 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫

authors note: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬, 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲! 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!! 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!!

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭?! CLICK HERE!

ꨄ༊*·˚ F1 MASTERLIST

Lewis

When you see the box in Lewis's hands, your heart skips. It's not the first time he’s given you a piece of jewelry, but there’s something special about his expression today, as if he’s slightly nervous.

The ring itself is a slender band in rose gold with a small gem in the middle—your birthstone, of course. His fingers are steady as he slides it onto your finger, his gaze never leaving your face.

“A ring?” You tease with a smirk, trying to hide just how thrilled you feel. “You know the next level is when the ring goes on the other hand.”

Lewis chuckles, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, “I had to do it, babe. Can’t have you out here without something to show for it. It's a reminder that you’re my girl, no one else’s.”

You laugh, and he pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Get used to it, alright? I like the way it looks on you. One day… well, I hope you’ll want to wear something like this on your left hand too.”

The sincerity in his tone has you speechless for a moment, but he fills the silence with a soft kiss that promises, someday, he’ll be slipping a different ring on a different finger.

Charles

Charles is an expert at making your heart race, but today, he’s managed to surprise you in the best way. With a shy, slightly bashful grin, he holds up a tiny box that you’d noticed earlier but didn’t think much of.

Opening it reveals a dainty silver band set with a small sapphire. The sight makes you gasp softly—it’s elegant, just like him, but also endearingly thoughtful.

“You know a ring usually comes with the next relationship level,” you say, giving him a playful nudge.

His cheeks tint a soft red, but he grins, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, mon amour, I wanted to give you something to get used to. I know I might be getting ahead of myself, but…I already feel like I’m yours forever.”

His thumb brushes over the ring on your hand as he continues, “Plus, this way, people will know you’re not available. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I need everyone else to know that, too.”

With a grin, he pulls you in close, sealing his heartfelt words with a lingering kiss that leaves you breathless.

Carlos

Carlos has been jittery all day, and now you understand why. In his hand, he holds a velvet box, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous glint you know so well.

When you open it, you’re greeted with a simple, classic band with your birthstone embedded in the center. It's perfect, something you could imagine wearing every day without a second thought.

You chuckle, giving him a teasing look. “So, a ring now, huh? You do know that it usually comes with a proposal, right?”

Carlos smirks, his hands settling on your waist. “Mi cariño, I had to do something. Can’t let you think you’re on the market. This may not be a wedding ring, but consider it practice.”

He slides the ring onto your finger, his gaze never leaving yours. “You’re going to be wearing one on this hand eventually. Might as well start getting used to it now.”

He’s so charming and sure of himself that it’s impossible not to melt right into his arms. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the kind that holds every ounce of his feelings for you.

Lando

Lando fumbles a bit as he holds up a tiny box, his cheeks red as he tries to play it cool. But the look on his face betrays him—he’s nervous, and it’s adorable.

The ring inside is small, subtle, and totally fitting for the two of you. A simple band with a single birthstone, it’s exactly the kind of piece you could wear every day, just like he wanted.

When he slips it on your finger, you raise an eyebrow. “A ring, huh? You wanna marry me.” You say teasing him.

Lando laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s true, but… I couldn’t wait. Had to make sure you had something from me. Everyone needs to know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

He pauses, squeezing your hand. “Plus, I want you to get used to the idea. One day, it’ll be a bigger ring. But until then, just… keep this one safe.”

He’s blushing furiously, but you give him a kiss to let him know he doesn’t have to be nervous. As he hugs you, you feel his relief, and he mumbles against your hair, “I’ve got to keep you forever, you know that?”

Oscar

Oscar has a quiet confidence about him as he takes your hand, showing you the little velvet box he’s been carrying all day. Inside is a beautiful ring with your birthstone, small and delicate.

You smile, touched, but you can’t resist teasing him. “Are you proposing, or…?”

He laughs softly, his thumb running over the ring he just placed on your finger. “Not yet. But I couldn’t wait any longer to make it clear—you're my girl. I don’t want you going anywhere.”

You can’t help but smile at how sure he sounds. “Oscar, you know I’m not going anywhere.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes sincere. “Good. I wanted you to know that I’m not either. I wanted you to have something that shows you’ll always be mine.”

With a warm smile, he leans in, kissing you sweetly. “One day, I’ll make it official. But for now, just promise you’ll keep wearing this.”

You nod, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wants to let go.

Max

When Max hands you the small box, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, his usual confidence slightly softened by a hint of nerves. Inside, the ring is as no-nonsense as he is—a simple band with a small stone.

As he slides it on your finger, you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “You know, Max, this usually comes at the next level in a relationship.”

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. “I know. But you’re stuck with me. I wanted everyone else to know that too.”

Max’s thumb runs over the ring, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Consider it practice for the future. You’ll get used to wearing a ring for me.”

Your heart melts a little at the serious look in his eyes, and you tease, “Practice, huh?”

He grins, kissing you deeply, making sure you feel every ounce of his commitment. “Yeah. Get used to it, because I’m yours forever and you’re mine.”

Sebastian

Sebastian’s fingers shake just slightly as he hands you the little box, his shy smile making your heart swell. The ring inside is perfect—dainty and understated, a small stone set in silver.

When he slips it onto your finger, you grin. “Sebastian. Asking me to marry you already, hmm?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling in that warm, familiar way. “I will, one day in the future, but I couldn’t wait that long. I wanted to give you something now, something to remind you that you’re my person.”

He cups your face, his gaze soft. “I hope you’ll get used to wearing something on that finger, because one day, I plan to put a different ring there.”

He’s so earnest, so genuinely sweet that it takes your breath away. He leans down and kisses you gently, his hands holding you close, as if he never wants to let you go.

Jenson

Jenson's easygoing smile falters just slightly as he hands you a tiny box, but his eyes twinkle with mischief as you open it. The ring is classy, elegant, with a touch of vintage style that feels so you.

He slips it onto your finger, his gaze meeting yours. “You know, Jenson, this normally comes with a wedding proposal.”

He laughs, pulling you close with a grin. “You know me—I’m always ahead of the curve. I couldn’t wait to let everyone know you’re mine.”

With a wink, he adds, “It’s just a little placeholder. I want you to get used to it because, one day, it’ll be a wedding ring. But until then, I want you to know that you’re the only one I want to be with.”

His words are so casual, but there’s depth in his gaze, a promise that one day, he’ll make good on those hints. He pulls you in for a kiss, one that leaves you lightheaded and smiling.

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© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[scarletriddles]

Lost in the fire ˚༄ | S.R

↳ in which the team’s newest case puts your life in jeopardy, at your own accord.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: angst, sprinkle of fluff

warnings: general cm gore/case discussion, fire/arson, injuries related to fire, swearing, references to religion + greek mythology, friends to…? (they’re in la-la-la-love, your honour), some possible inaccuracies (sorry!), small jemily mention because lesbian rights, hopeful ending, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person narrative.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: my first ever fic i’m very nervy🫣i’m not expecting this to gain any sort of traction, but lmk how you find it, i suppose!

“Haley Bradstone, aged twenty-five, and Laura Kilmey, aged twenty-seven, are the most recent victims in a series of murders in Detroit, Michigan. Both victims were discovered four days apart, and only five miles away from each other, their bodies disposed of in black FIBC bulk bags that were left in trash-sites.” JJ pauses, her gaze flickering between the team, almost hesitant as her thumb circles the silver remote. But, with a clearing of her throat, she continues. “Cause of death for both victims has been ruled asphyxiation…by smoke inhalation.”

You abruptly halt toying with the frayed edges of the case file, your eyebrows shooting up and head lifting to look at her, and then also at the rest of the team - who look just as bewildered.

“Sorry, did you just say smoke inhalation?” You ask, genuine confusion weighing down your tone.

JJ nods, her expression dismayed as she eyes the two beaming faces displayed on the board. “Yes, as laid out in the case files, high levels of carbon monoxide, hydrogen cyanide and hydrogen sulphide were found in both victim’s lungs. The coroner also noted soot around the victim’s faces, and TBSA burns, all of which are synonymous with death via smoke inhalation.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning is actually the leading cause of death in smoke inhalation - causing approximately 2,100 deaths in the U.S each year.” Spencer adds, followed by his familiar flat smile, which he usually does when he doesn’t know what to do with his face - which happens to be always.

You blink, with a slight quirk to your lips, despite the circumstances. Trust your good doctor to know just about everything.

“Were there reports of any fires around the general area?” Hotch pipes up, his face set in his usual stony expression, though his eyes betray his pensiveness.

JJ shakes her head, adjusting her stance. “No, which is what makes this stranger. The DPD reported no calls about any sort of fire on the days our victims were killed.”

“What? So our unsub just…lit a bunch of fires in plain sight?” Derek questions, with a flick of his brow, his gaze alternating between the board and the manilla folder in his grasp.

You huff, turning to face him with a slight smile, musing. “Must be one hell of a magician.”

Derek smirks in general bemusement, his dark eyes swirled with mirth, his tone light as a feather as he shifts in his scratchy office chair. “Looks like it, lil mama.”

Ever the smooth talker.

“Or, he could be using a secondary location.” Emily chimes in, her narrow-eyed gaze set firm on the file in front of her, her slender fingers fiddling with a bullet-point pen, and her lips contorted into a reflective pout.

“That’s plausible, but you’d think at least someone would notice.” Rossi adds, with a slight huff of incredulity, his calculating gaze sweeping across the entire room before him.

The two smiling faces are quickly joined by two more, both just as radiant, both just as nausea-inducing. Those poor girls.

“We don’t know for sure. But, the most recent victims join twenty-eight year old Sarah Holloway, and twenty-two year old Jessica Bailey. Who, similarly, were found four days apart, five miles away from each other and dumped in black FIBC bags, also ruled dead via asphyxiation. However, Sarah and Jessica’s dumpsites were around 14 miles away from Haley and Laura’s.” JJ purses her lips faintly, eyes still fixated on the crime scene photographs of four similar looking women who didn’t even live properly yet, robbed of the chance to, just like Poseidon robbed Medusa of her autonomy, on the marble steps of her deity’s temple. The thought alone just worsens the crease between her brows.

“four victims…why are they only just asking for our help, now?” Spencer ponders, features frozen in contemplativeness. His fingers sweep up to push his black-rimmed frames back to their previous position on the bridge of his nose.

God, you love his glasses.

JJ’s face morphs into a faint grimace, as she replies in a reluctant tone. “Unfortunately, the media managed to connect the dots on this one, they’re dubbing our unsub ‘the smoke-killer.’ But, the DPD really needs our help with this.”

You sigh, eyes trained on the gruesome imagery displayed on the silver screen. No matter how long you’ve been with the BAU, the violence never quite gets bearable for you, though you can’t bring yourself to look away - like witnessing a car-crash. You understand the psychology behind it, shock rooting the human body in place as the brain tries to comprehend that what it’s processing is real.

But, guilt still flows around in your system like the Noachian flood. Maybe, if you thought about it hard enough, you’d feel the ark bashing against your innards as it tries to navigate the brutal waves.

You suppose the violence doesn’t get easier for the team, either. Perhaps that’s what keeps you all tethered to each other, bonded. After all, the Greeks did beat the Trojans in unity - and disguised as a large, ligneous horse, but you digress.

Hotch nods, solemnly. “Alright, we can discuss further on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” And with that, he abruptly stands up, striding out of the room with a sureness in his step that only he could possess, effectively putting an end to the briefing.

The screen then goes dark, the car-crash finally being attended to. The sounds of chairs scraping across the frizzled navy carpeted floor and paper rustling bounces around the small space, as everyone heads out and into the bullpen, all but the exception of spencer, who remains seated, brooding over his manilla file as though he’s a modern day Thomas Aquinas. always thinking. You muse to yourself, though your eyebrow still raises in question nonetheless.

“Reid, you coming?” You probe gently, standing in the doorway with a faint grin. Your eyes flickering like fairy-lights all around his hunched-over frame.

Spencer startles slightly, craning his head up from the file and over to you - a rosy hue creeping up the nape of his neck from the sight of you alone. He swallows, standing up suddenly, and pushing his chair out with his hip, as he breathes out. “Uh, yea-yeah i’m…i’m coming.” He collects his things quickly, scrunching up his case file as he slings his satchel over his shoulder. Though, it doesn’t really matter, he’s already memorised it from start to finish. Eidetic memory and all.

He flashes you his signature flat smile once again, as his muddy hues rake over your appearance. You look pretty today, well he thinks you always look pretty, but today especially. Your hair swishes around your face in wisps like cotton-candy, your frame adorned in your usual grey fitted slacks, paired with a pink striped puff sleeved button down and black leather boots.

He believes you’re the personification of an angel, and with the way the abnormally-harsh office lighting is dancing around your hair in a nimbus-like manner, he’s probably right.

“C’mon then doctor genius, we have an hour long flight to catch.” Your voice rolling out with a teasing lilt, a subtle smile curled around the edges of your glossed lips.

Spencer usually loathes being referred to as a genius, namely because it’s said with such obvious sneer and condescension, like he’s an abnormal form, like he’s still that twelve-year-old high schooler. But, you never say it with thinly-veiled disgust, no, you say it with such reverence- like it’s something to be admired.

Yeah, angel.

He mirrors your smile, eyes soft and starry eyed as he follows you out of the room. “one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds.” He corrects softly, always keen for specifics, his satchel smashing against his upper-thigh periodically as he walks beside you.

You huff in amusement, rolling your eyes in jest. “Right. My bad, one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 second long flight.” Your head tilts up slightly to look up at him, your irises dipped in unsubtle gaiety,

Spencer lets out a huffy laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He loved when you teased him, though he’d never admit that. At least, not to you anyway.

“Oh, forgive me for being specific.” He sounds out, airily, like a dish-soap bubble crafted by small exploring hands, as he places his own ridiculously large palm on his chest in mock-offence.

“more like particular.” You reply, just as you reach your desk, in faux-annoyance, the curl of your lips betraying that fact.

Spencer puffs out another slight laugh in response, as he leans against the edge of your desk, watching you comb through it. His gaze doesn’t settle, darting around the array of trinkets and just general stuff aligning the glossy oak, including the multiple pots of bright pens - some looking vaguely like the ones he’s seen scattered around Penelope’s ‘bat-cave’ - and even a stick-figure drawing of him scribbled onto a canary yellow sticky-note, featuring overly large glasses and converse, which are more akin to clown shoes, alongside an equally as dramatised stick-figure version of Morgan, complete with a badly scrawled out six pack and huge biceps.

He feels a warmth blossom in his chest as looks over the cluttered space. It’s just so irrevocably you.

“particular or not, i still believe everything-“ He begins.

“-everything should be accurate, wherever possible” You mock affectionately, with a barely hidden smirk, still rooting through your things like a squirrel digging for an acorn.

A slight pout forms on his face, bordering on more petulant than anything. “How’d you even know I was going to say that?”

A faint effervescent giggle slips past your lips, your head still firmly pulled down, as your hands continue their wandering through your desk drawers. “ ‘Cause you’ve said that line at least a dozen times now, doc.” You drawl out, still grinning to yourself.

He wants that sound to be his morning alarm.

He rolls his eyes, only half-seriously, a smile lighting the corners of his mouth up like a vegas ‘welcome’ sign. “I have not said that a dozen times!” He huffs out, with a shake of his head at the injustice of it all, his dark curls springing with the movement.

You just smile, continuing to rifle through your desk before you locate what you were looking for, quickly straightening up and collecting the rest of your things before turning to him.

“Well, I’m all set doctor, lead the way.”

“Is that just so you don’t get lost again?” he replies, with an overt teasing twinkle.

You groan, blowing out like a whistle “that was one time! i was still new, and the hallways are confusing!”

He just bellows out a laugh, pushing up off the edge of your desk and beginning to walk - more like stride - his way to the elevators. You in tow, but just barely. His legs are way too long.

“I can put a sign on my back that says, ‘follow me’, if needs be.” He throws behind his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up!” You bark out, not really with any bite. Never with him.

It had been about three days since you landed in Detroit, Michigan. Most of that time being spent cramped up in the tiny makeshift office curated for the team, downing copious amounts of coffee, reading files until the backs of your eyes burned and dodging the borderline leering looks from the mid 40-year-old, beer gut endowed cops.

In other words, it was hell.

The team had made some progress, though. Narrowing down the profile to a white male in his early to mid thirties, who works a menial job, of average height and build, and who clearly dislikes women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow down the ‘Where’s Waldo’ search by much. But still, you really just couldn’t shake the obvious question…

Why go through all the trouble of burning these women, but not completely, just to dump their bodies?

And it seemed that question floated around the backs of everyone else’s mind, too. It was bizarre, to say the least.

Currently, the team is all stuffed in said aforementioned makeshift office space, like sardines in a can, no less. Emily and JJ sat at the table together, as usual, Derek propped up against the wall, Hotch and Rossi stood brooding in the corner of the room, quietly discussing something between themselves, leaving you and Spencer situated in front of the board, where the geographical profile is mapped out.

“He’s operating within a 20 mile radius, dumping the bodies within an area he’s comfortable in. He’s either going to strike here.” Spencer points to a spot on the map with his finger, tapping against it slightly before dragging it across and towards another spot, “or here.” His features were swamped in pondering thought, his honeyed gaze encompassing the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, but i still don’t understand why he’d go through all the trouble of burning them till they die from smoke inhalation, and then discarding the bodies. jus’ seems a lil’ pointless t’ me” Morgan drawls out, his stance wide and his arms folded, one of his hands resting on his chin.

“well ain’t that the million dollar question.” You reply, with a sigh lathered in perplexity, your arms folded in a similar manner, but with one of your hands rubbing up the side of your arm, in a absentminded fashion.

“Morgan’s right, it doesn’t make any sense.” Hotch pauses slightly, contemplating - like everybody else in the room. His dark eyebrows stitched together, and his lips set in a taut frown.

“None of it makes sense, i mean, even the dumping method, why bulk bags and not just plain ol’ trash bags?” Emily questions, sitting back in her seat with an exhale, her legs crossed with her boot-clad foot tapping against one of the legs of the rickety table.

You blink, a thought coming to you at her question. “Theres a Hardware store in the middle of town, right?” You throw out, hands stuffed into the pockets of your black slacks.

Hotch’s brows furrow, as he regards you. “Yes, why?” He says simply, almost curiously.

You shrug, “so then he’d probably be getting the bulk bags from there, since it’s easily accessible.”

Everyone goes silent at your question, seemingly mulling it over, before Morgan responds.

“If so, why wouldn’t he just buy trash bags?” He says, with a cock of his brow.

“Because he wants the victims to be found.” Spencer states, plainly, piling onto your train of thought and rocking back and forth on his heels, as his tongue darts out, swiping his slightly dry bottom lip.

“Think about it, a bulk bag is much more conspicuous than a simple trash bag, he wants his handiwork to be seen - maybe not right away, but he knows at least one person would find the presence of a large plastic bag near a dumpster to be…alarming, whereas no one would bat an eye at seeing a trash bag. Same goes for his M.O, he most likely has some sort of access to an incinerator, perhaps due to his job, which allows him to discreetly ‘burn’ his victims, before dumping them in a way which derives notice.”

His hands flail around wildly as he talks, an endearing habit that makes it seem like he’s so excited to talk about what he’s discussing that, at the minimum, one part of his body has to move with the speed of his mouth.

You smile - more of a secret thing, really, just for yourself - you love listening to that man talk. It’s the eighth wonder of the world, to you.

Everyone nods, the notion seemingly settling into their psyche without much problem, as logically, it did make sense.

“If thats the case, then we have a problem.” Rossi scratches the side of his jaw lightly, his head tilted and his bronze hues directed at the table.

Emily raises her brow, in clear need of clarification. “What problem?” She murmurs out, her head cocked to the side, questioningly.

“We have an unsub who wants attention, and will stop at nothing to get it.” Hotch adds on, sharing a brief glance with Rossi, his expression more grave than usual, before he fishes out his phone, dialling a number and setting the onyx Nokia down onto the table. “Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, my favourite crime-fighters! To what do i owe the pleasure?” The shrill cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rings out, immediately bringing a small smile to your face. She really was like bathing in sunshine.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a hardware store’s sales within the last month, more specifically of FIBEC bulk bags.” Hotch drags out, his arms still folded and his face betraying nothing but his usual stoicism.

“Oh, that i can do upside down with my hands tied, sir! just…one…second.” Penelope’s voice hauls out, followed by the rapid clinking of keyboard keys. “What’s the name of the store?” She asks, her tone focused.

“Sally’s Shack” Hotch replies, his tone equally levelled.

After a few moments, and a lot more keyboard clicking, Penelope finally pipes up again. “Ah-hah! so, it appears that our shack in question has sold six FIBEC bulk bags within the last month, all to the same buyer - well, at least the same credit card was used, ending in 4678.”

Hotch looks visibly taken aback slightly, before he asks “Can you get a name, Garcia?”

“Already on it, sir.” Penelope replies, with her usual peachy tone.

A tense silence follows, only sporadically broken by the clickity-clack of Penelope’s rainbow pastel keyboard. Then, she pipes up again.

“Okay…looks like the card belongs to a 33-year-old, Mr. Eugene Humphrey, who currently works at…” Her words trail off, obvious hesitance behind them “…burns funeral home and crematory, and owns a residence just in the middle of town.”

Everybody seems to pause, then. He matches the profile - Mid thirties, works a menial job which would give him access to a ‘discreet’ burning method and just so happened to purchase the same material used by the unsub, whilst also owning his own property not too far away from the hardware store in which the material was purchased…yeah that can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Pen, does he have a criminal record of any kind?” Your voice floats out, drifting through the confined space like Thumbelina on her shamrock lily-pad.

“I will have a looksie for you now, my sweet sugar muffin, just hang on one second-“ Penelope cuts herself off as her fingers begin their ministrations again, the keyboard rumbling with every tap, a smile edging on your face at the absurd term of endearment.

“Alright…looks like our guy spent six months in juvenile detention when he was sixteen for lighting his girlfriend’s car on fire, claimed he caught her cheating on him with his best friend, youch!”

You can practically see the cogs turning in your teammates heads, looks like you got your guy.

“Okay, thats good garcia, could you-“

“-send his information over? already done, sir.” promptly interrupting the low voice of your unit chief, in a way that is so Penelope, that he can’t really object.

“Thank you Garcia, We appreciate it” Hotch replies in his typical authoritative tone.

“You’re welcome, my gorgeous gods and goddesses, now go and save lives.” Penelope chirps out, swinging on her swanky desk chair, her hands now preoccupied with a bright pink fluffy pen.

“You’re the best, babygirl.” Morgan calls out, his tone suave and a smirk illuminating his features.

Penelope lets out a giggle, replying in her token-teasing articulation. “Only for you, my chocolate thunder, now ta-ta!” Her sing-songy voice sounds out with finality, before the line drops, indicating that she ended the call.

“Alright, everyone, looks like we’re scoping a funeral home. I’ll go inform the captain, and i need all of you to gear up, as a cautionary, is that clear?” Hotch demands, his gaze expectant.

resounding murmurs of “yes” fill out the area, to which the dark-haired agent replies to with a curt nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

You let out a breath, turning to the rest of the team with a faintly reluctant expression. “Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.”

Morgan flashes an easy smile, coming up behind Spencer and clapping him on the shoulder, his smooth voice infused with teasing. “You heard her, pretty boy, let’s get moving.”

Spencer has to resist an eye-roll, his cheeks immediately flushing raspberry red, whereas you just let out a small confused laugh - clearly not in on whatever inside joke that seems to be playing out - turning on your heel and prancing out of the room, leaving the two of them to squabble like 10-year-old brothers.

Though, on your way out, you swear you saw Emily squeeze JJ’s hand underneath the table…

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

You don’t know how - hell, nobody on the team knows how, but Humphrey somehow found out you were coming. He might’ve gotten some frustratingly accurate in-tell, or maybe he just… knew. After all, bad news attracts bad news, right? And being arrested for the murders of four women sure seems like pretty bad news. Or maybe he was a paranoid fuck. Either thought seems plausible, but currently pointless.

Ironically, Burn’s Funeral Home and Crematory, was well…burning. The two-story high foundation, which you’re guessing was once a depressing waxen colour, is now engulfed in orange. Bright, blazing orange, and for a moment, you almost believe the sun crash-landed onto earth.

The ignited shades dance across your features , making you look like you’re almost glowing. You hear Morgan let out a few curses, and Emily mutter something eerily close to “Oh my God” under her breath. But, the rest of you remain silent, devoid of speech, heads lifted up and staring at the fiery wreckage. Drawn in, entranced.

You can’t pull your eyes away, Not even when Hotch snaps out of his own silent gazing and begins to talk around you, shooting out instructions like darts to your co-workers. Well, until you hear a fire-man trudge past you, in full PPE and carrying a winding anaconda-like hose, writhing along the gravelled floor with each step he takes, similar orders being barked out of his mouth to his team-mates. But, that isn’t what grabs your attention, it’s the information coming from his radio.

A mother and her child are stuck in there, apparently looking for a casket for her husband before the building went up in flames, and they aren’t even going to attempt to save them - something about the fire being “too large, too risky.”

A mother and her child. Her 8-year-old little girl who just lost her father, and now is going to lose her own life, trapped in a scorching maze.

Not on your watch.

You will not, cannot, let this sick bastard take another girl’s life.

Your legs move before your brain even has time to catch-up, darting straight past multiple fire personnel who all try to stop you, but you dodge each one. Not even the sounds of the team shouting your name halts you, your figure retreating straight into the raging inferno.

What’s that saying? Moth to a flame?

Well, consider the molten-structure your flame. Because you won’t stop, will not stop, not until the mother and her daughter are out. Safe.

Either way, God appeared before Moses in the form of a fiery bramble. And maybe, he was doing it again, instead for their freedom, not yours or a 120-year-old man’s. You were getting them out of this desert, even if there were no miles of grainy-sand and the occasional tumbleweed, but instead hot, piercing, smouldering heat.

Spencer’s astute brain doesn’t take long to register what the hell you are doing. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so panicked. He practically screeches your name, moving to go after you, but with no such luck as Morgan and Hotch hold him back. But he fights, and he fights harder than he’s ever had in his life, because this is you.

“Let me go! she’s in there! you can’t just let her go in there!” He shrieks, every word sharpened with utter desperation.

Neither Morgan’s nor Hotch’s replies to his incessant wailing actually penetrates his mind. He feels like he’s underwater, succumbing to the depths of the Mariana Trench, fading black and blue.

The water freezes over the longer you’re in there. Trapped in that dismal, enflamed formation. He feels sick, but he knows spilling his stomach content won’t provide any relief, it’s a sickness that’s lodged itself into his bones, into his very being. He wonders if this is what the Woolly Mammoths felt like during the first coming of the glacial-period, just observing as they, one-by-one, all perished to the frost.

He can’t have lost you. Not before he-

…Not before he could tell you that you’re his first thought when he wakes up, and his last before he surrenders himself to the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

No, this can’t be it. He refuses, he downright rejects the thought.

He just stares, and stares at the lit up property, his whole entity screaming for you to just make it. His mind and mouth spinning prayers to god’s he doesn’t even believe in because if there was any chance of that turning the cards in your favour, then he’s taking it and holding on tight.

The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes like hours. Time is a fickle thing, always stretching and compressing back together again depending on someone’s emotions. But, that philosophy does nothing to distract him from the ache. Because a life without you in it, he grasps, isn’t a life at all. Not one that he wants to live, anyway.

Two soot-covered frames emerge from the fiery entrance, immediately being swept away by fire-personnel for medical treatment. And his heart stops, until he realises you aren’t either of those coughing figures.

Where are you? Why aren’t you coming out?

Time seems to stretch again, expanding like a black-hole over his fitful, beating heart. Ready to consume, ravage. But, maybe, that would be an act of mercy, anything would be an act of mercy compared to the waiting. Agonising, hoping and waiting.

Then…a third figure finally bursts out of the flames. He’s seen that mop of hair before, he knows that hair. Even at a fair distance, hunched over and simultaneously gasping for air and hacking your lungs up, tousled, with skin embedded in ash, You’re beautiful and you’re alive.

You’re alive.

He pushes his body forward and he runs, he sprints and goes to you. And this time, Hotch and Morgan let him.

[diaryofawhoretbh]

it's too late. | thanos (choi su-bong)

| in which a pregnant girl encounters her ex-boyfriend in a game of survival, for a shot to win some money to pay off their debts.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: none really... just a lot of angst!

NOT proof-read!!

"hey señorita... y/n!"

oh don't tell me that's who i think it is...

i turned around slowly, my heart hammering in my chest. it was like time had frozen for a moment. the moment i had feared, the moment i never expected. there he was.

choi su-bong.

my high-school sweetheart. the boy who once promised me everything. the boy who left when i needed him the most. the boy who broke my heart and disappeared without a trace.

i could hardly breathe as i met his eyes. those same eyes i had fallen in love with at sixteen. the purple hair that was styled but messier than i remembered. the tattoos that covered his hands and his fingers; each one a reminder of who he'd become. the coloured nails, the silver rings that flashed with every movement. that same damn smile; the one that made my heart race, now felt like a dagger lodged in my chest.

"su-bong..." i said, my voice barely above a whisper. the words so heavy with unspoken moments of pain and longing. my hand moved instinctively to rest on my stomach, the one thing that had grown in his absence. but i didn't expect him to notice. why would he? not after everything.

he froze for a moment, as if he didn't know what to do with me. his eyes flickered to my stomach, then quickly shifted away, the confusion creeping into his expression. he looked...lost. like he was seeing me, but not really understanding. i could see the change in him; the same boy i loved at sixteen, but somehow... different. colder.

"you look different," he said slowly, taking a step forward, his voice carrying a touch of hesitation. his eyes searched mine, like he was trying to find the girl he once knew in the woman standing before him. but he didn't get the chance.

"yeah," i replied flatly, trying to keep my composure, my voice colder than i intended. "a lot has changed su-bong."

i wanted him to know how much he had missed, how much he had left. i wanted him to feel the weight of his absence, the pain of being alone when i needed him the most. but i didn't want to show him any weakness. not now. not after everything.

he shifted uncomfortably, like my coldness was making him second-guess himself.

"look i know it's been a while, but we need to talk."

we need to talk? what the fuck. my mind screamed. we've already had this conversation, haven't we? but the words caught in my throat. i couldn't bring myself to say it. not yet. the truth, the pain, it was all so close to the surface, and if i let it out now, it would swallow me whole.

"what do you want, su-bong?" i asked, my voice tight, trying to keep the shaking at bay. "why are you even here?"

his face darkened, the usual cocky swagger replaced by something more... raw. something real. "debt," he said, the word coming out low, reluctant. "i invested everything into crypto. lost it all. i’m here because of my mistakes."

i nodded slowly, the reality of his words sinking in like ice water. "yeah, i know," i muttered bitterly. "i’ve been paying for it too, haven’t i?"

he looked away for a second, but i could see the shame in his eyes. the guilt. it didn’t matter, though. it never mattered before, so why should it matter now?

but then, as if the silence between us wasn’t enough, his eyes flicked down to my stomach. a quick glance, but it was enough. his face went pale, his breath catching in his throat. the shock was instant.

"wait…" he whispered, stepping closer. his voice cracked slightly. "are you-"

i didn’t let him finish. i couldn’t. i felt it welling up inside me—everything i had kept hidden for months. the hurt, the anger, the grief. i pressed my hand to my stomach again, my heart racing as i forced the words out.

"i’m pregnant," i said, my voice barely a whisper, but it felt like it echoed between us. "and it’s yours."

his face went blank. completely blank. like he couldn’t process it. like the words hadn’t even reached him yet. i saw his mouth open, but no sound came out.

i stepped back, keeping my distance, my chest tight. "you weren’t there, su-bong. not when i needed you. not when we needed you."

his expression crumpled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "i didn’t know," he said hoarsely. "i didn’t know, y/n. i swear."

"you should’ve known," i shot back, my voice cracking despite my efforts to stay composed. "you should’ve been here. but you weren’t. you walked away when i needed you the most."

he took a step closer, but i held up my hand to stop him. "no. don’t come near me."

"i messed up," he said, his voice rough, guilt and regret flooding his words. "i was stupid. i didn’t mean for any of this to happen. i thought… i thought i could fix it. i was trying to make something of myself, but i messed everything up. i messed us up."

"us?" i scoffed, shaking my head. "there was no 'us,' su-bong. there was only you and your damn dreams. your rap career. your crypto, your debts, your selfishness. there was never any 'us' when i needed you. i was alone, and now you think you can just walk back in like nothing happened?"

i felt my hands shaking, my breath coming faster as the anger bubbled up. i wanted to scream. i wanted to cry. but all i could do was stand there, staring at the boy who had left me. the boy who would never understand the weight of what he had done.

"i should’ve been there," he muttered, the words barely a whisper. "but i wasn’t. i’m sorry, y/n."

the words meant nothing anymore. they were hollow. meaningless. he was sorry, but sorry wouldn’t change anything.

"yeah," i said, my voice trembling now. "you should’ve. but you weren’t. and it’s too late."

i took a shaky breath, pushing the tears back. i couldn’t break down in front of him. not now. not after everything.

"you can’t fix this, su-bong," i whispered, the finality in my voice cutting through the space between us. "you can’t fix what’s already broken."

he stood there, staring at me like he didn’t know what to do with himself, with us. i turned away, my heart pounding in my chest. my body felt heavy with the truth i had finally told him.

"i’m done," i said softly, my voice breaking. "you should leave. just go."

without another word, i walked away, leaving him behind.

[taegimood]

— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom bf!jun~

a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!

──────────────────────

your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.

the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.

you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”

you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.

he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.

“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —

before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —

as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.

you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”

you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.

“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“

his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.

“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.

“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.

“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.

he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”

“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.

neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck,” he rasps.

“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”

he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.

“gotta give my best for my baby.”

[coffee-and-geto]

“HEY, MISTER POLICEMAN I DON’T WANT NO TROUBLE !”

“Why you wanna holla at me?”

❖ pairing: policeman! suguru geto x f!reader

❖ summary: unfortunately for you, poor poor criminal, you’re getting arrested by a hot policeman. he’s about to handcuff you when your compliant good girl behaviour prompts him to be more lenient with you. fulfilling his duty as a peace officer, he must take you as quickly as possible to his office at the police precinct for a full interrogation about your crime — just as full as it will be with your pussy!

❖ warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, mention of murder/blood (there’s none), tying up, improper use of handcuffs, dirty talk, semi-public sex, semi-exhibitionism (kinda), countertop sex position, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f), sex (p in v), overstimulation, creampie, office sex, fanart by @/polariae.

❖ wc: 2,214

“Oh no…”

“You’ve committed a crime, tell me…”

“I killed my ex.” You grin with innocence, your teeth half-revealed, and wipe the blood on your pants.

The policeman with long raven hair tied in a half-bun twirls his silver handcuffs around his long, slender forefinger. His lips curl into a smile. “You’re under arrest, love.” His fingers cup your cute chin as you nearly purr, nodding your head, accepting your fate with a soft sigh.

“Alright.”

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Officer Suguru Geto at your service. Suguru — or Sugu — to my close ones.” He winks at you, making your heart flutter. “Such a good girl deserves a bit more leniency, don’t you think?”

With an adorable pout on your lips, you nod. “Unless you’re a naughty girl?” Suguru adds, the roughness of his hands pressing you against his police car to cuff your wrists. You let him do it and giggle, admitting your guilt. “I’m taking you to the police precinct, love.”

°°°°

“Is cuffing me to a chair part of your usual interrogation process?” You glance back as the click of the door lock reaches your ears.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Suguru smiles and sits behind his desk. He calmly adjusts his computer screen and raises his fingers just above his keyboard. Turning his head towards you now, he wastes no time. “Alright, I need your identity: name, first name, date of birth, and address.” He carefully types your information and nods. “Very well. Was there a particular reason that led you to commit this crime?”

“My ex cheated on me a long time ago and I found out a few days ago,” you admit in a whisper, squirming in your chair from the discomfort caused by the handcuffs pinning you to your seat.

“Ah. An ex. I see.” Suguru purses his lips to stifle a smile. “Poor little heart. Did you have an alibi, perhaps?”

You blink. “You mean, someone who might have helped me kill my ex?”

“Exactly.”

“Well yes, my boyfriend.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow. “Your boyfriend? How kind of him.”

“Very. The best of all,” you assert with a proud look.

He chuckles softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “So did the fact that he helped you kill your ex heal your broken heart?”

“Yes, but my heart still aches and so do some places where we got a little rough…” You adopt a sad and troubled pout, and Suguru stands up to walk around his desk and fetch a cotton ball with tweezers.

“I have a few solutions for that,” he replies, kneeling in front of you, his hand armed with DNA collection tools.

“Will it hurt?” you can’t help but ask in a worried tone.

“No, princess,” Suguru breathes near your neck. He gently dabs the white, cottony ball on your multiple blood stains in silence. “There we go.” He goes to store the sample before returning to you. “So your boyfriend helped you kill your ex? Interesting.” His thumb glides over the soft flesh of your lower lip. “I can help finish healing what’s still hurt in your heart.”

“Can you?”

“If you agree, of course,” he murmurs, his hot breath brushing against your cheek. You give him enough of a signal for his thin lips to press slowly against yours. A growl escapes both of you, Suguru's lips moving against yours as you try your best to keep up. His tongue slips between your lips, seeking access to your mouth, which you part. With this simple gesture, Suguru elicits a small moan from you. “Taste good, baby,” he growls between kisses.

He then pulls his soft lips away from yours to attack your neck. Every inch is covered with sweet, wet kisses of shared saliva. “Suguru…” you sigh, your eyelids closed with fervent desire.

“Is that not enough to heal your heart? Maybe I need to push my interrogation further and deeper to find out what’s still troubling you, hmm? What do you think?”

You let out a yes and swallow hard as his hands slide down your waist and hips — his nails digging into your flesh. The smell of his cologne fills your now intoxicated nostrils. Fuck, he looks hot in his policeman uniform!

“Please,” you whimper. And his fingers are already tugging at your pants to remove them.

You obediently spread your legs, and his forefinger finds its way to the wet patch of your underwear. “Already worked up even though I haven’t done anything? I can even feel how swollen it is already.” The pad of his finger gently presses on your needy, puffy clit. His Adam's apple bobs, and Suguru looks up at you. “May I?”

You pathetically nod your head and a moment later, your panties are gone, and the sight of your glistening pussy right under his nose captures his attention. “I’m going to take care of it… for the sake of the interrogation and your heart, of course.” He buries his head between your plush thighs and a calloused finger slides between your wet folds. “Fuck, princess,” he hisses through his teeth, “I can feel it pulsing just at the entrance...” He inserts his finger and licks his lips eagerly. “So tight… Does your boyfriend truly take care of you?” His finger starts to pump slowly between your gummy walls, the latter clenching around it. “I think I need another to understand where it still hurts,” he grunts, making you whimper and squirm on your chair, handcuffs restricting your movements so you can’t do anything but moan when Suguru’s lips wrap around your bundle of nerves and suck it like it’s a lollipop. To ease the process, he puts one of his arms under your thigh to rest your calf on his shoulder and get better access to the sweet, swollen cunt he wants to eat out so badly.

“Sugu, it’s sensitive,” you whine, your breathing becoming heavy with gasps. And God, you’re so close, as he adds another finger to the first, stretching you out. Your pussy squelches, a warning for him that you’re going to cum soon. “Hnng… Please…”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” Suguru coos, his fingers continuing to finger-fuck you faster and relentlessly. “Use your words.”

“Make me cum, please.” And he obeys without objecting, his long, thin fingers curling up in that deep spot of yours that can make your toes curl so quickly. “So deep— ‘m close…” you sniffle, tightening when this knot in your stomach is on the verge of bursting. Suguru’s tongue darts out to drag teasing circles around your core. “Don’t be so loud, babe, my colleagues might hear you and ask what we’re doing — not complaining, though,” he chuckles, the resonance making you gasp. One more pump, and you squeal his name while reaching your climax on his fingers, walls spasming strongly.

Your breathing is now panting, Suguru winces. “Aw. You’re okay, sweetheart?” He waits for your nod and captures your lips with his. He hums, his lips stretching during the sloppy kiss. Your taste reaching your mouth, the fluid stretches like a rope between your lips when you break the kiss.

“I need more,” you whisper, biting your lower lip. “I’m sure it will help me heal my shattered heart.”

“I will, princess,” Suguru breathes out, his right hand cupping your cheek and stroking your rosy-skinned cheek. He stands up with a swift motion and unbuttons his blue shirt after pulling off his black bulletproof vest. His muscular torso and toned abs draw your attention and you almost salivate in anticipation. In the rustle of clothes, your eyes go down to the center of his body. Slow movements, carefully undoing his belt, he takes off his pants and lets them fall to the floor with a ragged sound. His grey boxers too. Then the sight of his long, aching cock rises towards you in a straight line.

“Like what you see?” he asks in a whisper.

You swallow thickly and nod. He steps closer to you and releases the handcuffs from your wrists, tossing them into a corner of the room. The sight of a naked Suguru standing next to you, his imposing height making your core ache. His abs — radiating warmth just inches from your face — twitch slightly in sync with his dick trickling with pre-cum. You remove your t-shirt and prepare to undo your lace bra, but Suguru’s large hand wraps around your wrist to stop you. “Let me, my beautiful girl.” Skillfully, his fingers unhook your bra, tossing it into the same pile of clothes as his.

“Gonna take care of you.” He nibbles on your earlobe and wraps his strong arms around your thighs, lifting you to place your ass on his cold, varnished wooden desk. Goosebumps travel across your soft skin, complemented by Suguru’s warm hands fondling your breasts while gently pushing you down on the desk to lay you back. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Effortlessly, your legs fly up to his shoulders, your heels catching just behind as his hands grab your ass and give it a loud smack. “Fuck…” he growls, and without needing to guide it, his cock finds its way to your dripping folds. The reddened, sensitive tip brushes against your warm, tight entrance.

Your patience wears thin, and you whine, “Suguru! Just fuck me alread—” And he splits your cunt suddenly, reaching your deepest point in a swift motion, with your sensitive walls gripping his shaft. “Ah— Sugu… s’deep…” He grins and patiently waits for you to adjust to him. Once you do, his hips begin to roll, thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck, it’s like your pussy was molded f’me…” he hisses through his clenched jaw. He pulls out his dick to slam back in a bit harder, a desperate moan escaping your sweet lips. “Taking me so well…” His tip hits your g-spot again so easily thanks to his foreplay. Your insides are so wet that when Suguru starts to pick up the pace — his name repeated like an angelic prayer by your pretty tongue — his length slips out of your hole.

“Put it back…” you murmur with puppy eyes, shining with tears of pleasure.

“Can you beg for it, babe? Wanna hear ya cry for it.”

“Please, please, please— Ah! S-Sugu…” And he slips it back in to fuck you shamelessly. His hips meet yours harder and harder, and your hand pressed against your mouth no longer suffices to stifle your moans.

“Such a naughty—thrust—naughty—thrust—girl, aren’t you? Begging to be fucked when my cock slips out of your needy cunt, huh?” He growls, closing his eyes for a second to regain composure. He feels your walls tighten when he talks and a laugh shakes his chest. “You love dirty talk, huh?” His hands grip the curve of your hips and pull you back to him, hitting that deep spot inside you that blurs your vision with tears of ecstasy and forces your voice to sing his name like an opera singer. “You close, princess?” His balls slap your ass with a loud sound, matching the squelching sound of your fluids.

“So—So close…” you sob, your arms flailing to find anything to hold onto. You clench around Suguru’s dick so many times that he himself lets out a low groan of your name. The sound is like music to your ears and once again, the knot in your stomach is on the verge of bursting. “Gonna cum, gonna cum…”

Suguru's hand remains gripping your hips while the other grabs one of your breasts, pinching a swollen nipple and mercilessly rolling it between his forefinger and thumb. You even feel Suguru’s dick swell inside you — he’s just as close as you are. “Cum f’me, sweetheart… Let yourself go, I’ve got ya… Want me to cum inside your tight lil’ pussy? Yeah? Yeah?”

“Inside, please, inside,” you pant as your vision blurs with stars and your walls spasm around Suguru’s length. A groan and a moan escape both your mouths, and the next second, you both cum at the same time — him, painting your insides white with his hot spurt, and you, squirting your juices around his shaft. Unable to hold all of it in your womb, some of the mix of your fluids seeps out of your fucked hole.

Heavy and rough breaths fill the silent room. Your trembling legs can’t stay on Suguru’s shoulders and almost fall. He catches them just in time with both hands, bends them slightly, and plants a kiss on each of your knees, then smirks. “God, I’ll never get tired of this roleplay.”

Your own lips curl, and you turn your head towards the locked door. “Do you think anyone heard us?”

Suguru chuckles, eyes lightly squinting. “With your voice? If they haven’t already fled this wing of the police precinct…”

You glance at the fake blood on your arms. “Do you think they’ll go to Satoru to complain, saying, ‘your best friend is fucking his girlfriend a bit too loudly’?” And you both burst into laughter. “He’s the one who gave them the check to keep quiet and let us make all this whole… mess, after all.” You reach out and pinch Suguru’s cheeks.

He rolls his eyes. “Not with the amount he gave.”

“How much?”

“A little less than two million yen.”

a/n: i think i’m ovulating guys 🫣

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm

[cxosmicxo]

random headcanons i came up with at 5 am bc i think im funny

i. midoriya

peanut allergy

lwk loves slime

great cook but he gets distracted easily and walks away

kinda loves pinterest

ik he’s an only child but i’m getting baby sister vibes like hinata and natsu from haikyuu yk

one dimple

k. bakugo

allergic to fake jewelry and it breaks him out really bad

hates slime

can cook but can’t bake

scared of twitter tbh

only child or older sister or older and younger brother

back dimples (i’m gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure)

s. todoroki

enjoys really bad tubi movies

has no hobbies

scared of tumblr

hates roblox bc he’s really bad at it and doesn’t understand

e. kirishima

scared of oobleck (do you guys remember that)

HATES water slime he thinks is bs and not real slime (i agree)

can walk completely silent but he’s usually slapping the ground with his flippers

mina put press ons on him in middle school and he functions pretty well with them

older sisters and younger brother(s)

d. kaminari

love tres leches

got chicken pox as a kid and has a scar

silver tooth kid

had and still has the glowing stars on his ceiling

has an older sister and she’s in her 20s and almost engaged when he’s in high school

thought hitting girls was illegal until he was 11-13

block blast warrior

giggles

h. sero

also silver tooth kid but just one and it was a molar

has a different hobby everyday

he FUCKS UPP a yogurt parfait

has younger sisters and older brothers and he’s right in the middle

“me and my girl don’t fight she punches me in the face and i stfu”

block blast warrior #2

wheezes when he laughs

[arahdow]

BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR QUILLS !

Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader

Content. fem!reader. fluff, tiny silly argument in shadow’s, cuddling, overall soft stuff.

Word count. 1.6 k

A/N. writing sonic was the hardest thing i’ve ever done aH idk why!! i’ll make sure to write him more often to get used to his personality aH anywaaay, again, not beta read, i’m really sacrificing my sleep hours for this one sjdjs hope y’all like it!!

SONIC

making you run and accidentally crashing with him.

“Come on! You’re being too slow!” Sonic screamed as he kept on running, his feet moving way too fast for her liking. 

Just a few days ago, the blue hedgehog encouraged his partner to go out for a run together, and she knew he was an athletic man, but this? This was torture.

“Sonic… Wait… I can’t” her feet were moving so slow compared to his, especially when she wasn’t used to running this much. 

“One foot in front of the other! Come on!” Sonic said laughing, as he ran backwards, looking at the girl. She huffed with annoyance, the hedgehog still winning even when running like that!

After a while, the blue animal ran faster and almost disappeared from her sight. The girl took a deep breath and started running faster. Somehow, the fear of getting lost in the forest making her move, helping with adrenaline. Suddenly her body was moving faster than before. Way faster! 

Her body, sadly, started to grow tired quickly because of the energy she was using. Her lower limbs suddenly getting wobbly, but somehow kept running. Out of instinct, she thought.

That was until she realized she was about to crash into a stone wall at the end of the road, it was getting dangerously close!

The girl stretched her arms to cushion the blow. A violent ‘Hey!’ was all she could hear as she crashed, not on a stone wall, but rather a soft body. Sonic’s body to be clear.

He used his own body to soften the crash, but something was wrong.

“Ouch! Wha-”

She looked down and saw one of Sonic’s blue quills stuck on her shoulder. “Damn… Ouch.” 

The animal was sprawled upon her, but quickly recovered to take a look at his injured girlfriend. “Oh, I’m sorry darling,” he said with a sheepish smile, helping her stand up, careful not to mess with the quill. “but it’s kinda your fault to run that fast, thought you were about to destroy time and spac- Ouch! Why are you hitting me!” He said with a pained laugh.

“You’re an asshole! Help me get this out!” She complained, annoyed that the man was making fun of her.

“Aw, don’t be all grumpy, I promise not to make you run again.” He said, pushing her slightly to take her to the infirmary. “Hey, maybe next time you can try Shadow’s air shoe-”

“Don’t even finish that thought.”

SHADOW

silly old couple argument

“Move.” The girl didn’t reply, her gaze focused on the tv. “Get up.”

“Git ip.” she mocked.

The black hedgehog grumbled, sitting really close to her, almost on her.

“Hey-”

“This is my side of the couch, you know that.” He said as he crossed his arms. “I don’t like this channel.”

“You don’t like anything, Shadow.” She complained, not giving him the remote.

They’ve been living together for a year, two years being a couple, and they still bickered like an old couple. It became something usual between them, and it got even worse when speaking of the sofa. There was only this purple sofa in the living room, both her and Shadow liked it, but there was just something about the spot on the far left that was perfect. For both of them.

So if they were together in the house, it was usual for them to fight over the sofa spot, like they were doing now.

“I’m feeling hot, you need to get off of me!”

“I’m not on you, you’re the one occupying my place!”

“Shadow!” she pushed the hedgehog with her shoulder, as he pressed even harder on her.

With a huff, she turned and put her hands on him to push him again, when a quill suddenly pinched her hand. 

“Ow!” She exclaimed, looking at the dark quill stuck on her. “You can have your stupid place on the couch!” the girl said as she stuck her tongue and got up to the kitchen, looking for some tweezers to take the quill out.

Not many long after, the man got into the kitchen, following her, taking her arm in his hand. “Hey-”

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking intently at the sensitive red spot on her hand. Pressing his lips, he brought her hand under the faucet to clean the wound. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. Please forgive me.” 

The girl snorted. “It’s alright though, I was just messing with you, but you were seriously pressed, huh? Pressed enough to hurt me.” She said with a fake tone of hurt on her voice.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna let this down, are you?”

She gasped and whined, putting on a pouty face, “Ow! It hurts! Please! Why are you so mean to me?”

“Alright alright, you can have the couch for today.” He sighed, shaking his head with humor.

The girl smiled, her face expression going back to normal. Turning happily, the girl kissed his cheek before running to the couch. “Love you, Shads!” 

SILVER

cuddling after a long day but uh oh…

After a tiring day outside, he wanted nothing more than to be at home, eat the food his girl made for him and spend time with her. It was a simple plan, and the cherry on top? Cuddling with her on bed, his face pressed on her stomach as she threaded his quills.

It was a usual occurrence, both of them lying down in silence, sometimes him laying on her lap, sometimes her on his, but they spent most of their time cheek to cheek.

“Silver…” She whispered, afraid of disturbing him. But he didn’t reply, instead, a soft snore broke his silence.

The girl giggled a bit as she kept on caressing his face and quills. It was times like this where she found herself falling once again for her hedgehog lover. She was actually reading a book on her other hand, so her attention was mostly directed to it.

Being immersed on the story, she got really focused on the sentences, suddenly drifting off from her task on her other hand. She unconsciously made her limb move in erratic ways, as she tried to keep on doing both things at the same time.

That was until she felt a slight sting on her hand. Jolting, she yelped as she retreated her hand from his body. The movement was so sudden, Silver opened his sleepy eyes, sensing something wrong.

Leaning back enough so he could see his partner in the eye, he found instead a look of slight pain as she held her hand in front of her face, a silverish quill stuck on her palm.

“Oh chaos, dear, your hand!” He expressed, incorporating as he held her hand for a bit. Using his telekinesis, he brought the aid kit to bed. Doing a careful procedure, he took the quill out from her hand, making her hiss at the feeling.

“I’m sorry…” He said.

“Don’t be, it was my fault, I was completely distracted by the story.” She replied, looking at the book beside her.

Silver took a look, as he kept patching her hand. “Hey! That’s the book I recommended the other day!” 

“It is! And it’s so good! I really loved it when the protagonist saved the kids from the falling building.” 

“That was my favorite part too!” He said. Both of them laughed and kept on talking about the book. He was really happy to have her in his life.

KNUCKLES

It’s shedding season! And your roomie-bf is in the house!

Cleaning after an echidna warrior was difficult, especially when he kept bringing his dirty shoes inside her home, her food taken, and her bed occupied. But she honestly loved Knuckles company, so she carried on with it.

It was starting to get a whole lot colder outside, as the temperature began to cool down. It was that time of the year where the island became a little snowglobe, so the echidna spent more time at her partner’s home than anywhere else.

Today she needed to do the laundry, piles of dirty clothes started to form, and even though Knuckles tried to convince her to stop using clothes like him, that still wasn’t on her plans, at least not on a short term.

Sighing, she started to walk towards the laundry room, a pile of white clothes on her arms, making seeing the floor almost impossible. Knuckles was sleeping in her room, so she let him. She’ll make him fold the clothes afterwards either way. Sure, she’d let him crash whenever he needed it, but it came with a price.

Opening the door of the room, the girl stepped inside. But she wasn't ready to feel an electric pain coursing from the bottom of her feet to her core. A scared scream left her throat as the pile of clothes fell from her hands. Tripping, the girl fell on her butt with a thud. Not a second later, the echidna was already punching the laundry’s room door, breaking it. His breathing agitated as he saw his significant other on the floor.

“What happened?” He asked, worried that someone might have come into her home. 

The girl crawled, starting to search in between the clothes as she stumbled upon a red quill. Taking it in between her fingers, she showed it to the animal, furrowed eyebrows on her face.

Knuckles saw the quill with curious eyes. “You stepped on a quill of mine?” 

She threw the quill at him, half annoyed. “Of course I did! Don’t go around shedding your stuff please. Look! Now my foot hurts because of it.” She said as she looked at her now destroyed door. “And that too!” The mammal listened to her words, and before she could complain for anything else, he got closer to take the girl in his arms, an easy task for him, and brought her to the sofa. Laying her down, he put a gloved hand on his own chest.

“I’ll take care of the laundry to compensate for it.” He oathed, the girl surprised for his serious face, snorting in the process.

“That’d be nice.” She said, as she looked at her foot, not swollen or anything. “I could help you though-”

“No, you stay there.” He demanded as he strided to the laundry room.

A moment later, he came back stomping to the living room again. 

“Uhm… How does the machine that washes clothes works?”

[slapmeshigaraki]

: •̩̩͙ ໋ "let me take care of you, hm?" •̩̩͙ ໋:

Every bone in your body ached, throat stinging as you swallowed. Your eyes squinted, the brightness of the overhead light stinging them. It was too warm, your thighs sticking together underneath a thick blanket with a familiar scent. You shifted in place, willing your body to move slowly, but before you could sit up, a voice cut through the silence.

“No no no, be still.” The silver haired boy spoke at a volume slightly louder than usual. He wasted no time rushing over to where you laid on the couch, the fabric making indents in your skin from how long you’d been laying there.

“Xavier, I can’t feel my legs. I have to get up,” He shook his head.

“You’re weak. You need to eat before you try to move around too much.” You scrunched your nose as he sat on the coffee table beside me, a bowl of an ambiguous substance tucked in between his hands. He stirred it slowly, steam pooling off of the spoon. He blew on it once or twice before extending it for you to try.

“Xavier, who made that?”

“I did,” Your stomach turned at the thought. Xavier couldn’t boil an egg properly. The thought of a meal prepared by him had you feeling worse than before.

“I’m not hungry, really. I’m fine. I think I just need some water and-“

“Baby, please. I just want you to feel better. Try one bite for me, yeah?” His face softened, eyes wide as he stared at you, the spoon still pointed in your direction, taunting you, daring you to take it into your mouth. You took a deep breath, unable to deny him when he pleaded so sweetly, before leaning up and taking the metal spoon between your lips. You chewed it slowly, waiting for a foul flavor to attack your tastebuds, but it never came.

“Do you want some more?” You nodded hesitantly, curious to taste the flavor again.

“Is it good?” You took another bite, the warm broth of the soup soothing your throat and coating your insides. You nodded once more, leaning in.

“You know you don’t have to feed me, right? I can do it myself.”

“I know, but I want to. Is that okay?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper as your eyes locked.

“Yes.” A faint smile crept across his face at the admission before he reached the spoon out again and you let the warm liquid caress your tongue.

“Sweet girl, always so strong. I love getting to be here for you like this. Taking care of you when you need me makes me so happy. You know that?” He said, picking the towel up from beside him and wiping it against the corner of your mouth, your lips almost touching from the close proximity. He put the bowl behind him, his soft fingers resting against your face, before lifting your back up slightly and sitting on the cushion beside you. You laid your head against his lap, finally closing the gap between your bodies.

“You worked so hard in the battle yesterday. I knew your body wouldn’t be able to handle all of that stress. Why didn’t you let me just do all of the work, hm?” he asked, as his skin made small, rhythmic circles against yours.

“I want to help you whenever I can. I don’t want to see you get hurt while trying to watch out for me.”

“Do you not think I can multitask?” There was a hint of laughter hidden in his tone.

“I do, but I just don’t want to burden you by making you do so.” The humor in his expression was gone as his gaze searched yours.

“Taking care of you is not a burden to me, in any capacity. You get that, right?”

“Yes…” His eyebrows scrunched together at the response before his palm found the back of your head. He slowly brought your faces closer together. Your heartbeat seemed to stop in your chest as your lips met his. You closed your eyes, melting against his touch before he pulled back without any warning.

“Let me take care of you, hm?” Suddenly, you felt a cool touch beneath the warmth of the blanket as his fingertips danced across your chest, making the hairs on your skin stand up as he trailed them from your collarbones and underneath the fabric of your shirt. His light eyes never left yours, studying every contortion of your face as he continued touching you.

“All you have to do is ask for help, pretty girl.” The words caught in your throat as his fingers tenderly massaged your nipple, twisting it softly back and forth between his fingers nonchalantly. The heat beneath the blanket only grew as you fought against the desire to rub your thighs together.

“I want you to help me, Xavier.” As the words left your mouth, his fingers moved to the other nipple, pinching lightly before continuing the same pattern.

“Aw, do you? You might have to be more specific. How will I know what you need from me unless you say it directly?” Your legs seemed to spread on their own at his words, knees falling apart as your pussy ached from his voice.

“Touch me,” You said, no, whined.

“I’m already touching you, silly girl. Do you not want me to touch you here?” His fingers stilled completely against your heaving chest before they found their way toward your face again.

“Open,” His tone was dark now as his index finger gently tapped against your bottom lip. You immediately let your jaw hang open, sticking your tongue out a little. He slid two of his fingers against your flesh, collecting your spit onto them until they glistened with the wetness as he pulled them back out.

“Tell me where you want my fingers.”

“On my pussy, please.”

“Aw, please?” he said, his tone mocking yours, “My sweet girl, you don’t have to beg. I’ll help you anytime you ask.” Without wasting another second, he slid his hand under the fabric once again, sliding beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“Poor baby, you’re so wet already. Were you too scared to ask for me to take care of you like this?” Your eyes rolled back as his slick fingers ran up and down between your lips.

“You don’t have to be nervous to ask for my help baby. I just want to take care of what belongs to me.” The pad of his thumb made slow small circles on your clit, the wetness causing it to slide around beneath his touch.

“Even this little clit is scared to ask for help, she keeps running away from me.” A low moan fell from your lips, your back arching as you tried to push your hips into his touch.

“Xavier…”

“What is it, princess?”

“I- I need you to make me cum.”

“Aw, what a big girl for me saying what she needs so directly, so cute,” he said before sliding his middle finger inside of you. His thumb continued its movements as he slowly pushed himself in and out, curving his finger slightly, causing even more whines to spill from your lips.

“Is that the spot? Is moving my fingers like that gonna make this tight little pussy cum?” His pace quickened.

“Answer me baby.”

“Yes, yes I’m going to cum.”

“Whose pussy is this?” Your thighs started to clamp together around his arm the faster he slammed into you. His slender digits curled inside of you deeper than you’d felt before.

“Yours Xavier. It’s your pussy.” Another finger forced its way into your hole.

“Aw, pretty girl. Don’t tense up, relax. Let me inside, c’mon princess. Thought you were gonna let me help you, hm?” He stalled his movements, giving your walls time to stretch around him.

“That’s it, calm down. Let that pussy open up a little for me, yeah?” You nodded slowly, lost in anything that he said, the heat between your legs the only things that you could focus on any longer. He began moving his fingers again, hitting that same sweet spot inside of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Xavier, I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl, cum for me. Give it to me. I want you to let go all over my fingers, baby.” You moaned his name, hands reaching to stop his movements as his fingers continued to fuck you through your orgasm, every twitch of his digits overstimulating you.

“Xavier please, I can’t take it anymore.” He slid his other hand beneath the blanket, forcing your thighs apart.

“But I thought you needed me baby? This pussy is still drooling all over my fingers. I have to keep taking care of you until you aren’t scared to ask for my help anymore, hm?” he whispered. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as that same sinister smile stained his face.

♡ a/n: super busy week tragically, senior year of college is kicking my ass smhhhh. sooo since i won't have time to write anything fresh i thought i would post some of my older fics here :))) they are heavily unedited ngl. i'll probably do two others this week since valentine's day is coming up and i won't have anything better to do lmao,, there's one's for the meanie! series for caleb and sylus. anywayyy lotta yapping this time mb,, have a good day angels !!

[mxmis]

How They Show Affection ~ Arcane

Another fluffy headcanon about how they show affection to you

P.S. I’m doing requests so if you have some I need ideas

Jinx ~ 🦋

"Poppy!" A million kisses

Physical touch to the max

Literally always touching whether its her hand on yours or her resting her head on your shoulder while you're reading even leaning entirely on you with a hand around your shoulder

This especially goes out in public, if you guys are at The Last Drop she wants everyone to know you are hers

Her favorite is kisses but not your lips, literally everywhere else; your hands, cheeks, neck, shoulders, even legs

Mwah Jinx places a big kiss on your cheek and proceeds to throw her arms around you, knocking you a little off the stool you are on "Jinx" you sigh breathily repositioning yourself on your seat and grabbing one of your hands with yours Thump The bartender put your drink in front of you and looking at your lover wrapped around you like a Koala gives a little chuckle

Vi ~ 🥊

"Oh Cupcake, you're hot I just can't help it"

Another fan of physical touch, not all over you like her sister but still almost always touching, fitting for her

She loves having an arm around your waist, or when you run your fingers over her calloused knuckles, Loves kisses; long passionate kisses or makeout sessions are common with her

Big fan of coming up behind you and wrapping you in a hug with her arms around your waist and her head resting on your shoulder, most of the time she'll tease with a kiss on your neck or a nibble on the ear

She loves it if you'll care for her especially after a fight of hers like if you massage her or ice her bruises and bandage some scrapes

"s-shit" she whispers and you sigh in response. "You can take all these hits, but some hydrogen peroxide hurts?" you jab with sarcasm "Hey! I have no problem with rubbing dirt on it" she says wincing while you dab at her with a cottonball. You lower your hand and kiss her jaw avoiding the cut on her cheek "You need some proper care if you want to keep getting into fights" you chuckle, going back to cleaning her wounds "I could use a cutman or I guess cutwoman" you sigh "I couldn't watch you get hurt" "I wouldn't get hurt if you were there, I mean c'mon how could I lose in front of my girl"

Caitlyn ~ 💙

"Darling you would look great in this or I guess all of this, try it on for me?" Ensue a fashion show starring you

Spoils you every way she can buying you clothes, jewelry, supplies for your hobbies, brews you tea, takes care of you

She's always thinking of you, on patrol if she sees a dress she'll probably buy it as long as its in your size, your closet is full with things she's bought you

She has an incredible memory, knows all your ring sizes for each finger, what necklace fit would be best, if you like gold or silver, your shoe size everything she needs to be your tailor basically

She isn't normally one to initiate when it comes to touch she rather enjoys when you do but she usually likes to talk with you

You enter the Kiramman estate walking to your partners part of the household walking in and dropping your outside wear you slog to the couch nearby plopping down with a sigh "How was your day darling" your lover speaks walking gracefully past you in her comfort clothes How is it she looks so good even in sweats? "It was tiring but i'm glad to be back" Clink clink clink you hear a spoon hitting the sides of a cup as Cait reappears with a teacup in hand setting it on the coffee table in front of you "I'm sorry, maybe this will help?"

[hisfavegirl]

Resolve - Aemond Targaryen x SisterWife!Reader x Aegon Targaryen

Summary : the situation rewinds to when you found out you were pregnant, your mother made a tough decision for you and aegon.

You walked slowly through the garden, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot mixing with the gentle rustling of leaves swaying in the breeze. The sun bathed the world in golden warmth, and the air was sweet with the scent of blooming flowers. Your eyes followed your daughter as she ran ahead, her silver hair catching the light like threads of silk. Her laughter echoed like the sweetest melody, filling the empty spaces in your heart with warmth.

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched her chase after a butterfly, her little feet pattering on the stone path. Moments like this were rare — moments where everything felt simple, peaceful, and whole.

But then it struck. A sudden wave of nausea. It was sharp and overwhelming, twisting your stomach into painful knots. Your breath hitched, and your steps faltered. Panic rose in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm.

“Not here,” you whispered to yourself, glancing toward your daughter to make sure she was still preoccupied with her game.

But it was too late. The bitter taste surged up your throat. Clutching your stomach, you turned quickly and rushed toward a cluster of bushes near the edge of the path. You barely had time to kneel before you heaved, your body betraying you as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the grass. The taste was foul, the strain on your body harsh and unrelenting.

For a moment, you stayed there, one hand braced on the ground, the other pressed to your chest as you took shallow, ragged breaths. Your heart pounded in your ears, and sweat dotted your brow.

“Mother?” a small, worried voice called from behind you. Your daughter.

You wiped your mouth quickly with the back of your hand, swallowing the bitterness that lingered on your tongue. Turning toward her, you forced a smile, even as your body still felt weak.

“I’m all right, my sweet girl,” you said softly, reaching for her hand as she approached. Her eyes were filled with worry, far too knowing for a child so young. She leaned into you, her small hands resting on your arm as she gazed up at you.

“Are you sick?” she asked, tilting her head.

You hesitated. Your mind turned over the possibilities, your breath still unsteady. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt this way recently. No, it had been happening for days now — sudden waves of nausea, fatigue that clung to you like a fog.

Realization struck you like a thunderclap. Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat.

No. It couldn’t be. Not now.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

You were with child. Again.

The weight of the truth pressed heavily on your chest as you sat by the window of your chambers, watching the pale light of dawn spill over the Red Keep. Your fingers absently traced circles on your stomach, a gesture of quiet reassurance — for yourself, for the life growing within you.

You knew whose child it was. There was no doubt in your mind. Aegon. The man who had been your refuge when the world turned cold. The man who saw you when others refused. He had given you warmth when you felt frozen, love when you felt abandoned. This child was his, not Aemond’s.

But love did not erase fear. It did not silence the questions that echoed in your mind.

What will Mother say?

What will they all say?

You knew Alicent would not be pleased. She had fought to maintain control of her family’s reputation, to keep order where chaos always lingered. Her dreams of noble unity had already crumbled once with the annulment of your marriage to Aemond. This would be another crack in the fragile image she sought to preserve.

With a deep breath, you rose from your chair. You couldn’t delay this any longer. She had to know.

The walk to your mother’s chambers felt longer than usual. Servants bowed as you passed, and guards gave you polite nods, but you barely noticed them. Your heart pounded in your chest with every step. What if she blames me? you wondered. What if she blames the child?

When you reached the door, you hesitated. Your hand hovered over the polished wood for a moment before you finally knocked.

“Enter,” came Alicent’s familiar voice from within.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside. Your mother was seated near the window, a needle and thread in her hands as she mended an intricate piece of embroidery. Her gaze lifted to you, and her eyes softened with that familiar motherly warmth — but also a hint of caution.

“what happend my sweet love?,” she noted, setting aside her sewing. Her eyes scanned your face, always able to read you better than you liked. “You look troubled.”

Of course, she knew. She always knew.

You stepped further in, hands clasped in front of you. For a moment, you felt like a child again, coming to confess some small mischief. But this was no small mischief. This was a truth that would change everything.

“Mother, I need to speak with you,” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt.

Alicent’s eyes narrowed, her brows knitting together in concern. “What is it, dear?” she asked, motioning for you to sit.

But you didn’t sit. You couldn’t. You stayed standing, your gaze unwavering as you spoke the words that had been clawing at your heart.

“I’m with child,” you said plainly, each word deliberate, like the clang of a hammer on steel.

Silence.

Her lips parted slightly, her hands falling still in her lap. Her eyes flickered to your stomach, and for a heartbeat, you saw hope there. Hope that perhaps this child was Aemond’s. Hope that this might restore what was broken. But you knew that hope would be fleeting.

Her gaze slowly lifted back to yours, sharper now, more calculating. She didn’t have to ask, but she did anyway.

“Whose child is it?” Her voice was quiet but firm, each word like a blade.

You swallowed hard, your fingers pressing against your palms to keep them from trembling. No lies. Not now.

“It’s Aegon’s,” you said, not looking away. Not this time. You would not flinch.

Her breath came slow, deep, and controlled, the way she always breathed when trying to keep her composure. Her eyes closed briefly, as though she were counting her thoughts, forcing them into place. When she opened them again, they were sharper than ever.

“You fool,” she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it crashed down on you like a wave. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I know,” you said quickly, stepping forward, your hands gripping the back of a nearby chair. “I know what it means, Mother, but—”

“But nothing!” Alicent snapped, rising from her chair so swiftly that it scraped loudly against the stone floor. “You think love will protect you from the whispers in these halls? From the court? From your enemies?” She stepped forward, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made you feel small again. “This child will be branded a disgrace before it even draws its first breath. You know that as well as I do.”

“I don’t care,” you said, your voice cracking but resolute. “I don’t care what they say about me. I won’t hide it. I won’t hide him.”

“Him?” Alicent’s eyes flickered with shock. “You think it will be a son? Is that why you risk everything for this?” She paced, her fingers pressed against her temples. “The lords will talk. The ladies will sneer. Do you know what they will call you? They will call you whore. They will call the child a bastard. They will call Aegon—”

“They already call him worse,” you said sharply, cutting her off.

Alicent froze, her eyes narrowing as if she had been struck. The air between you turned cold and still, like the eye of a storm.

“Do you love him?” she asked suddenly, her voice quieter now, colder.

The question hung in the air. Not a command. Not an accusation. A genuine question. One that required an honest answer.

You lowered your gaze for a moment, thinking of all the nights you’d spent in Aegon’s arms, of all the times he had pulled you close when the world felt like it was crumbling beneath you. Of how he made you feel seen, whole, and wanted.

“Yes,” you whispered, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “I love him.”

Alicent studied you for a long, unbearable moment. Her eyes, so much like yours, filled with exhaustion, pain, and something else. Resignation. Slowly, she sat back down, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She did not look at you this time. She gazed toward the window, her face stoic as stone.

For a moment, she said nothing. The silence was suffocating, thicker than smoke. Her gaze was sharp, her mind calculating, as if weighing every possible outcome. Finally, she drew in a slow breath and spoke.

“Both of them will need to hear this,” she said, her voice as cold as the winter sea. Her eyes never left yours. “Aegon and Aemond. We will not let this spiral into more chaos than it already has.”

Her words hit you like a blow to the chest. “Aemond?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “He must hear it from you, not from the whispers of court. If you think this will be resolved in quiet corners, you are mistaken. We face it now. All of us.”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest. This was no longer just your burden to bear. It was theirs too.

Moments later, you stood in Alicent’s chambers with your brothers. Aegon leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, a sly grin playing on his lips as if he already knew what was coming. His confidence was infuriating but also reassuring in its own way. He glanced at you with a flicker of warmth in his eyes, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary.

Aemond, on the other hand, stood rigid near the window, his one eye fixed on you like a predator watching its prey. His jaw was tight, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture stiff as iron. He knew something was coming. He always did.

Alicent stood between them, her face the very picture of control, though you could see the tightness in her shoulders. The queen had spent years mastering the art of appearing unshaken. But today, cracks were beginning to show.

“Tell them,” Alicent said, her voice calm but commanding.

You glanced at her briefly before turning your gaze to Aemond and Aegon. Your heart felt as though it might break free of your ribs, but you forced yourself to stand tall. You would not falter.

“I am with child,” you said, your voice strong despite the tremor in your chest. The words echoed through the chamber, sharp and cutting.

Aegon’s grin widened, his eyes flickering with something smug but also protective. He pushed off the wall and sauntered forward, his gaze never leaving yours, his voice thick with pride as he glanced at Aemond. “And it's mine.”

Aemond’s face was still for a moment. No reaction. Not a twitch. Not a blink. Just silence.

Then, slowly, his head turned toward you, his gaze burning with quiet fury. Not rage. Not disbelief. But something colder.

The weight of your mother’s decision pressed down on you like a storm brewing on the horizon. Her words echoed in your mind, unrelenting and absolute.

“The annulment will be reversed,” she had said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I will speak with the High Septon myself.”

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, every breath feeling heavier than the last. Your gaze flickered to Aemond. He was silent, his face a mask of cold indifference, but his eye lingered on you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. His jaw was set, his lips pressed into a thin line, but you could see the flicker of something more beneath it — possession, triumph, control.

Your fingers curled into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to steady yourself. This was not a decision made for you. It was a decision made about you.

Then your gaze shifted to Aegon. He stood at your side, his face a mixture of defiance and disbelief. His eyes darted between you, Aemond, and Alicent, and for the first time, he didn’t look like the carefree, reckless man you had always known. He looked angry. No, more than that — he looked ready to fight.

“Mother,” Aegon’s voice was sharp, sharper than you had ever heard it. “This is madness. You can’t just undo it as if none of it ever happened.”

Alicent’s eyes snapped to Aegon, her gaze hard as steel. “I can, and I will. This family is not yours to break apart as you please, Aegon.”

“You think this will bring us peace?” Aegon stepped forward, his voice rising, his arms outstretched as he motioned to all of you. “Look at us! Look at her!” He pointed to you, his eyes filled with frustration and something dangerously close to heartbreak. “Do you think she wants this? Do you think I will let you throw her back into his arms after everything he’s done?”

Alicent’s face tightened, her lips pursed in disapproval. “This is not about what she wants, Aegon. It is about duty. It is about honor.”

“Duty?” Aegon scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he approached her, his voice dropping to a low, biting whisper. “Is it duty that made Aemond lie with Helaena? Is it duty that made you look away when he broke her heart and mine?”

The room fell into a suffocating silence. Alicent’s face paled, her mouth opening slightly as if to protest, but no words came. You could see it in her eyes — the guilt, the knowledge that Aegon’s words had struck where it hurt most.

You felt it too. The truth of it burned in your chest like wildfire. It wasn’t just you who had suffered. It wasn’t just you who had been betrayed. Aegon had, too.

Aemond shifted from where he stood, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “You speak too much, brother,” he said coldly, his eye locking on Aegon. “You always have.”

“And you think too highly of yourself, brother,” Aegon shot back, his grin wild and sharp. “If you think she will ever love you again, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

“Enough!” Alicent’s voice sliced through the tension, her eyes blazing with fury. “This is not a choice for any of you to make. It is mine. I will do what is necessary to protect this family from scandal and ruin.”

Her gaze then shifted to you, and for a moment, you saw her soften, her eyes filled with something like regret. She stepped forward, her voice quieter but no less firm. “You will do this, my child. For your children. For your honor. This is the only way.”

Silence.

You glanced at Aemond, whose eye was now locked on you with unwavering focus. He didn’t smile, but there was something victorious in his expression, like a man who had won a war without ever lifting a blade.

Your heart twisted with disgust.

You turned to Aegon. He was already watching you, his eyes filled with so much worry, so much hurt, and for the first time, you saw something you had never seen in him before. Fear. Not for himself. For you.

You stepped toward him, slowly but with purpose, your gaze never leaving his face. His brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes flickering with hope and doubt all at once.

Then you reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder. Your fingers pressed against the fabric of his tunic, grounding him, grounding yourself. You met his gaze, steady and unwavering.

Then, you turned to face your mother.

“I will do as you command, Mother,” you said, your voice calm, deliberate. “If that is your decision, I will not fight it.”

Aegon flinched as if you’d struck him, his eyes wide with disbelief. “No,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “No, you don’t have to do this.”

Alicent tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in approval, as if she had known you would see reason. She nodded once, her lips pressing into a thin smile. “Good. You are wiser than I thought.”

But you weren’t finished.

You turned back to Alicent, your eyes burning with something fierce, something unyielding. “But if I am to return to Aemond,” you continued, your voice rising just enough to command attention, “then let me be clear. I will not suffer in silence. I will not endure betrayal and deceit. If I return, it will be as his equal, not his possession.”

The room went still.

Aemond’s face twisted, his eye narrowing in challenge. “You forget your place, wife,” he said slowly, dangerously.

“No,” you said, stepping forward, not afraid this time. “It is you who forgot mine.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His silence was more telling than any words he could have spoken.

You turned to your mother once more, your chin lifted high. “I will follow your command, Mother. But I will not be silent. And I will not be meek.”

For a moment, Alicent said nothing, her eyes flickering between you, Aemond, and Aegon. Then, slowly, she gave a single nod. “Very well.”

Her eyes softened, but there was sadness there. “Go now. Rest. I will speak to the High Septon myself.”

You didn’t wait for permission. You turned away, your hand still on Aegon’s shoulder. As you walked past him, you felt him reach for you, his fingers gently curling around your arm.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice low and broken. “Don’t give her what she wants.”

You glanced back at him, seeing the desperation in his eyes. You squeezed his arm once before pulling away.

“I’m not giving her what she wants,” you said quietly. “I’m giving them what they fear.”

Aegon’s eyes widened, his lips parting as if to say something, but you were already walking away. Each step was heavier than the last, but each step was also stronger. You felt their eyes on you — Aemond’s, Alicent’s, Aegon’s — but you did not falter.

Not anymore.

If you were to return to Aemond’s side, you would not be his shadow.

You would be his storm.

You walked steadily down the corridor, your mind racing with every step. The echoes of your footsteps were joined by another — heavier, deliberate, and unwavering. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Aemond.

His presence was like a shadow, ever-watchful, ever-looming. The closer you got to your chamber door, the louder his footsteps became, a slow, deliberate drumbeat behind you. You quickened your pace, heart pounding in your chest.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

The moment you reached the door, his hand shot out, pressing it shut before you could open it. Before you could react, you felt him behind you — his chest firm against your back, his arms sliding slowly, possessively, around your waist. His breath was hot against your ear, his movements slow but inescapable.

“You can run from me, you can defy me,” he whispered, his voice low, dangerous, and all too familiar. “But you will never escape me.”

His hand slid down, gentle yet firm, resting on your stomach. The touch was light, deliberate, and far too intimate. His fingers moved slowly, tracing small, idle circles over the fabric that covered your belly. Your breath caught in your throat, rage, fear, and something darker mixing together in your chest.

“This child you carry…” he murmured, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel every breath. “It may be his, but it changes nothing. You are mine.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine — not from fear, but from fury. Your teeth clenched, your nails dug into your palms as you willed yourself to stay still, to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you tremble.

“You hear me, don’t you?” he pressed on, his grip on your stomach tightening just slightly. “No matter what happens, no matter whose child it is… you will always be mine. Not his. Never his.”

You closed your eyes, your breath shallow, trying to block out the feeling of him against you. But his presence was all-consuming, suffocating.

“Say it,” he commanded softly, his voice like silk over steel. “Say you understand.”

Your eyes snapped open, burning with defiance. Slowly, you placed your hand over his, gripping his fingers tightly. But it wasn’t the gesture of surrender he expected. You squeezed, hard enough to make him feel it. Hard enough to remind him that you weren’t as fragile as he liked to believe.

“If you think I will ever belong to you again, you are a fool, Aemond,” you hissed through clenched teeth, your voice sharp as a blade. “This child may not be yours, but know this — I am not yours either.”

You pulled his hand away from your stomach, stepping forward out of his hold. Your breath was heavy, your heart pounding, but you did not stop. Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes locked onto his.

He stared at you, his eye narrowing, his lips curving into a bitter smirk. “Is that what you believe?” he asked softly, tilting his head as if examining you. “You think you’re free of me?”

You raised your chin, your gaze cold and unwavering. “I know I am.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you crackled with tension, the silence louder than any words. His smirk faded, his eye dark with something far more dangerous than anger — obsession.

He stepped forward, slow and purposeful, closing the distance you had just created. But this time, you didn’t back away. You met him head-on, your eyes sharp with unyielding resolve.

“If you touch me again without my permission,” you said quietly, your voice steady as a storm on the horizon, “I will show you that I am not as weak as you think I am.”

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, his jaw tightening. But he didn’t touch you again. Not this time.

Instead, he leaned in, his voice low, quiet enough that only you could hear. “You’ll see soon enough, sweet wife,” he murmured, his eye never leaving yours. “No matter where you run, no matter who stands at your side, you will always come back to me.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, his pace slow, deliberate, as if he had already won.

But you stood there, your heart steady now, your breath even. Because for the first time in a long while, you knew something that he didn’t.

You weren’t his anymore.

And you never would be again.

Time moved swiftly, and your pregnancy had now reached its fifth month. The days in the Red Keep felt longer, yet each one blended into the next. Your body had changed, your belly round with the life growing inside you. The weight of it was both a burden and a blessing.

You often found yourself walking in the garden, seeking peace among the blooming flowers. But peace was a luxury you no longer had. Aemond was always there.

He walked beside you, silent but watchful, his sharp gaze never straying from you. His presence was a shadow you could not shake. His hand was a constant, resting on the small of your back or lightly gripping your waist, steady and possessive. At first, you’d tried to brush him off, but his grip would only tighten, his touch firm yet calculated.

You hated it.

It wasn’t the touch itself that you loathed — it was the meaning behind it. It wasn’t affection. It was ownership. A reminder that, in his mind, you were still his.

But what made it worse was Aegon.

Every time the three of you crossed paths, you saw the way Aegon’s eyes flickered with barely restrained rage. His gaze would lock on Aemond’s hand at your waist, his jaw clenching so tight you could almost hear it. His hands would curl into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line. You knew exactly what Aemond was doing.

He was doing it on purpose.

Every glance, every touch, every lingering second his hand stayed on you — it was all for Aegon. To provoke him. To remind him. To declare, without words, that you were not his.

You felt like a pawn in their silent war. Every look they exchanged felt like a strike in an invisible battle. Aemond’s grip would tighten just a little more whenever Aegon drew near, and Aegon’s eyes would darken as if he were seconds away from lunging forward.

Once, Aegon had stepped forward, eyes blazing, his lips parting to say something. But you had caught his gaze and shook your head, silently pleading with him. Not here. Not now.

He’d stopped himself, but his eyes never left you. They were filled with something deeper than anger. Hurt. Longing.

The nights in the Red Keep were cold, quieter than usual, but not for you. Your chambers, once a place of solace, had become a shared space with Aemond once more. It had not been your choice. He had demanded it.

At first, you had argued, protested, even sought your mother’s support. But Alicent, ever the mediator, had insisted it was for “appearances” — that it would “ease tensions.” You knew it was a lie. It was control. Aemond’s control.

So now, every night, you endured it. You lay on one side of the bed, eyes on the distant wall, while his presence loomed behind you. Sometimes you heard the sound of him sharpening his dagger, the slow, deliberate scrape of metal on stone. Other nights, it was the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing.

But you never turned to face him. You never acknowledged him.

Tonight was no different. His gaze lingered on you longer than usual. You could feel it. The weight of it pressed against your back like a brand. You bit your lip, holding in the urge to tell him to stop.

No. Not tonight.

Slowly, you sat up, your hand resting on your rounded belly, feeling the gentle kick of the child within you. You ran your fingers across it, soothing both the child and yourself. Without a word, you slipped out of bed, letting your bare feet meet the cold stone floor.

“Where are you going?” His voice was sharp but quiet, like a dagger in the dark.

You didn’t answer him. You didn’t even look at him. Your feet moved steadily, step by step, toward the door. You expected him to call for you again, to stop you, to demand you return to him.

But he didn’t.

The cool night air hit you as you stepped into the corridor. It was dimly lit by flickering torches mounted on the stone walls. The silence of the night was broken only by the soft echo of your footsteps and the faint hum of distant voices from guards on watch.

You didn’t care.

Your hand stayed on your belly as you walked, the warmth of your palm against the growing life within you giving you strength. You didn’t know where you were going at first, but your heart did. Your feet carried you with purpose, with longing.

Toward him.

Toward Aegon.

You missed him. You missed the warmth of his arms, the way he held you without hesitation. You missed his laugh, his sly remarks that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even on the darkest days. With him, you didn’t feel like a pawn or a prize to be fought over. With him, you were just you.

When you reached his door, you hesitated for a moment, glancing behind you to ensure no one had followed. The corridor was empty. Silent. Safe.

You raised your hand and knocked once, softly.

A moment later, the door creaked open. Aegon stood there, his silver hair tousled, his eyes heavy with sleep. But the moment he saw you, that sleepiness vanished. His eyes softened, filling with something warmer than you had felt in weeks.

“You’re here,” he said quietly, stepping aside to let you in.

You didn’t speak. You simply stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you. The weight of the day, of Aemond, of everything — it all slipped from your shoulders the moment you were in his arms.

He pulled you close, his hand cupping the back of your head as he pressed his lips against your hair. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m always here.”

And for the first time that day, you breathed. Truly breathed.

The night felt endless, but for once, it was not in a way that brought you dread. It was warmth, safety, and peace. Aegon’s arms around you were a haven.

You lay against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Each beat matched the rise and fall of his breath, slow and steady. His hand rested on your swollen belly, fingers moving in soft, slow circles that lulled you into tranquility. Every so often, he pressed a kiss to your hair, your temple, or the curve of your cheek.

“You should sleep,” he whispered, his voice husky with weariness but full of tenderness. His thumb brushed along your jawline as he tilted your face toward him. “You and the babe need rest.”

You tilted your head up, eyes meeting his in the low glow of the hearth. “I don’t want to sleep,” you murmured, your fingers curling into his tunic. “Not yet.”

You didn’t have to explain why. He understood. You didn’t want to let go of this moment. Of him.

With Aemond, you felt like something to be claimed, to be possessed. His grip on you had always been firm — unyielding, controlling. But with Aegon, it was different. He held you like you were something precious, not something he owned, but something he cherished. He didn’t tighten his hold when you moved, didn’t pull you back when you tried to leave.

And that freedom — that trust — made you stay.

“Then stay awake,” he said softly, resting his chin on top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand continued to glide over your belly, slow and certain, his fingertips light but firm enough to ground you. You closed your eyes, not to sleep, but to feel him more clearly. The babe stirred within you, responding to the warmth of his touch. It made you smile.

“They know you,” you said, a soft laugh escaping you. “They always move when you’re near.”

He hummed a laugh of his own, low and soft in his chest. “Of course they do. I’m their father.”

His words echoed in your heart. Father. A title that once belonged to someone else. Someone who, for all his sharp wit and intelligence, never made you feel like this. Not like Aegon did.

He tilted your face toward him once more, his gaze searching yours as if he could feel the shift in your thoughts. “Stay with me,” he said quietly, not as a command, but as a plea. “Stay with me, and I’ll give you everything. No one will ever touch you again.”

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sincerity in his eyes. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe. Like you could be free.

“I’m already here,” you whispered, leaning forward to press your lips softly against his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His breath hitched, and you felt his arms tighten just slightly around you. But unlike Aemond, it wasn’t suffocating. It was safe. It was home.

The warmth between you and Aegon vanished the moment the door slammed open with a deafening crash. The sharp sound echoed through the room like a crack of thunder.

Aemond stood in the doorway, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath, his eye blazing with fury. His gaze locked on you and Aegon, his face twisted with something darker than anger - possession.

Before either of you could react, Aemond closed the distance in long, deliberate strides. His hand shot out, his fingers curling tightly around your arm.

"Get up," he snarled, his voice cold and commanding. "Now."

You gasped, feeling the sharp sting of his grip.

"Let me go, Aemond!" you shouted, trying to twist out of his hold, but his fingers only dug in harder. "You're hurting me!"

"You think I care?" he hissed, his face inches from yours. His single eye burned with something wild, untamed, and his grip only grew more unyielding. "You're coming with me. Now."

Aegon was on his feet in an instant. The air in the room shifted, heavy with tension as he stepped forward, placing himself between you and Aemond. "Let her go, brother," he said with a sharp edge to his voice, his eyes narrowed in warning. "Now."

Aemond's lips curled into a bitter, joyless smile. "Step aside, Aegon," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This has nothing to do with you."

"Everything about her has to do with me," Aegon shot back, his voice steadier than you'd ever heard it. He reached for you, his hand curling around your other arm in a protective grip. "She's not going anywhere with you."

Aemond's patience snapped. With a sudden, sharp tug, he yanked you toward him with enough force to make you stumble. Pain shot up your arm as his grip turned ironclad, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you knew it would leave a bruise.

"Aemond, stop!" you cried, twisting against him, but he didn't let go.

Aegon stepped forward, his eyes wild with anger. "I said, let her go!" he barked, his voice louder now, filled with a raw kind of rage that rarely surfaced in him. He grabbed Aemond's wrist, his nails digging into his brother's skin. "I'm not asking, brother."

"She is my wife!" Aemond shouted, his voice breaking like thunder. His body tensed, and for a moment, it felt like the world itself was about to split in two. "Mine! Not yours, Aegon!"

"She's not yours, Aemond." Aegon's voice was eerily calm, his grip on Aemond's wrist firm and unyielding. "She hasn't been yours for a long time. And you know it."

The words struck harder than any blade.

Aemond's eye twitched, his jaw tightening so hard it looked like he might break his teeth. His gaze flickered to you for a moment - and in that moment, you saw something raw and desperate beneath all that fury. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by cold, steely resolve.

"If you think you can take her from me," Aemond said, his voice a venomous whisper, his gaze fixed on Aegon, "then you're more of a fool than I thought."

"Try me," Aegon growled, his eyes narrowed, unflinching.

The room felt suffocating, every breath you took shallow and quick. You could feel Aemond's grip loosening, just a little — but it was enough. You pulled back with everything you had, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I am not yours, Aemond," you said with a voice stronger than you thought you had. "I am not a prize to be fought over."

His eye snapped to you, sharp and burning with something between pain and fury. "Don't think for a moment that he'll love you the way I do," he said, his voice quieter now but just as cutting. "He will ruin you."

"No," you replied, your voice steady as your eyes met his. "You already did."

You stood frozen, eyes locked on Aemond, his hand gripping your wrist with unyielding force. His fingers dug into your skin, and no amount of pulling or twisting seemed to loosen his hold. His breaths came in sharp, angry bursts, his chest rising and falling like a man barely clinging to control.

Your gaze shifted to Aegon, who stood just beside him. Aemond's other hand was pressed against Aegon's throat, pinning him against the wall. Aegon struggled, his face twisted in pain, but he still managed to shoot Aemond a defiant glare. His hands gripped Aemond's forearm, trying to pry him off.

"Stop it, Aemond!" Your voice was sharp, laced with urgency. You tugged at his arm, trying to break his focus. "Please, let him go."

He didn't move. His gaze shifted to you - cold, calculating, and yet, behind it, something more. Obsession. Possession.

"He needs to learn," Aemond growled, his grip on Aegon tightening. "He thinks he can take what's mine. Thinks he can touch what belongs to me." His voice was low, dangerous, every word like the sharp edge of a blade. "But I'll remind him. I'll remind you too."

Your heart pounded in your chest, every beat a sharp thud against your ribs. You stepped closer, ignoring the ache in your wrist, ignoring the fear clawing at your chest. Your voice was softer now but firm. "Aemond... if you want me to come back with you, I will."

That got his attention. His eye flickered to you, his brows drawn together, suspicion laced with disbelief.

"I'll go with you," you repeated, holding his gaze steadily. "But you have to let him go." Your voice didn't waver, even though your body trembled. "This isn't the way. Please."

There was a long, agonizing pause. Aemond's breathing slowed, his gaze moving between you and Aegon. Slowly, his grip on Aegon's throat loosened, his fingers sliding away. Aegon gasped for air, coughing as he rubbed at his neck, his eyes still blazing with anger.

"Don't think this is over, brother," Aemond muttered coldly, his gaze never leaving Aegon as he finally released him.

Aegon coughed, his eyes filled with defiance despite the redness blooming on his neck.

"No," Aegon rasped, wiping his mouth. "It's far from over."

Aemond tugged on your arm, forcing you to stumble forward. You shot one last glance at Aegon, heart aching at the sight of him like this. His eyes met yours, a silent plea for you not to go. But you had no choice. Not now.

"Walk," Aemond commanded, his voice sharp but quieter now. He didn't look at you as he pulled you down the corridor. "If you run, I'll drag you."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your eyes forward, your heart heavy with every step. Behind you, you could hear Aegon calling your name, but his voice grew distant with every step you took.

Aemond's grip on your wrist remained firm, his fingers like iron shackles that refused to yield. His pace was relentless, each step echoing through the empty corridors as you struggled to keep up. Your heart pounded in your chest, not just from the speed, but from the growing dread that settled deep in your bones.

When you finally reached your shared chamber, Aemond shoved the door open with a force that made it bang against the wall. He pulled you inside, releasing your wrist only to grab your face with his hand. His fingers pressed firmly into your cheeks, tilting your head upward so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he hissed, his eye boring into yours, cold and unyielding like steel. "You seem to have forgotten something very important."

You blinked, your breathing quick and shallow.

"Aemond-"

he snapped, his voice low and razor-sharp, each word cutting deeper than the last.

"No more excuses. No more lies. You are mine." His grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. "No one else. Not Aegon. Not anyone."

Your eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape, looking for anything that might help you. But there was nowhere to run. No one to call for.

"You think I don't see it?" he continued, his voice dangerously quiet now, a slow burn of rage that simmered just beneath the surface.

"The way he looks at you. The way you let him touch you." His lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Do you think that I'll stand by and watch while he takes what's mine?"

"I'm not a possession, Aemond," you said firmly, but your voice trembled. "You can't control me."

His smile vanished in an instant. His face hardened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something break inside him. Slowly, he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing harsh and uneven.

"If I can't control you," he whispered, his voice laced with venom, "then I will control everything around you." His eye flickered, wild and untamed. "I will burn it all if I must.Do you understand me?" His breath was hot against your skin, his words colder than ice. "I will destroy anyone who stands in my way. Mother. Aegon. It doesn't matter. No one will take you from me."

Fear gripped you for the first time in a way you had never felt before. This was no longer anger. This was obsession. This was madness. Your breathing grew shallow, heart racing as you felt the weight of his words sink in.

Aemond never spoke threats lightly. He never said anything he didn't mean. And this... this wasn't a warning. This was a promise.

"Please, Aemond," you pleaded, your voice softer now, your hands coming up to grip his wrists. "Don't do this. You don't have to do this."

"But I do," he whispered, his voice like silk over steel. His eye searched yours, softer now, but still dangerous. "Because if I lose you..." He trailed off, his jaw clenching. "I won't lose you."

He finally released your face, and you stumbled back, your chest heaving as you fought to stay calm. Your fingers brushed against your belly instinctively. His gaze followed the movement, his eye lingering there for a moment. You took a step back, keeping your eyes on him, never turning away. The distance felt like a fragile shield, ready to shatter at any moment.

"Rest," he said, his voice eerily calm now. "I'll stay tonight." He moved to unfasten his leather jerkin, as though he had not just threatened to destroy everything you loved.

Your heart pounded as you backed away toward the bed. For the first time, you weren't sure if you were safe anymore - not from him, and not from what he would do.

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows as you made your way to your mother’s chambers. Your steps were slow, every movement weighed down by exhaustion and the dull ache radiating from your wrist. You kept your hand close to your side, fingers gently curled to hide the fresh bruises that marred your skin. The blue and purple marks stood out starkly against your pale complexion, a cruel reminder of Aemond’s grip from the night before.

The familiar scent of lavender and freshly pressed linens filled the air as you entered her chambers. Your mother stood near the mirror, her back to you, as her handmaid carefully fastened the intricate laces of her gown. She glanced at you through the reflection of the mirror, her green eyes narrowing with quiet observation.

“You’re late,” she remarked, her tone sharp but not unkind. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, her gaze sweeping over you as if searching for something. “Sit,” she added with a tilt of her head toward the chair near the window.

You moved to sit, your movements careful and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, every glance she sent your way feeling like she might see through you — see everything. The fabric of your sleeve shifted as you sat, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you thought she might notice the bruising.

Her gaze flickered to you once more, her brow slightly furrowed. “You look pale,” she said, dismissing the handmaid with a flick of her fingers. The servant bowed her head and left the room, the soft click of the door closing behind her.

Your mother turned fully to face you, arms crossed, her sharp eyes now fully focused on you. “Are you unwell?” she asked, her voice quieter now but no less commanding.

You shook your head quickly, forcing a small, unconvincing smile. “No, Mother. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Her gaze lingered on you, her eyes narrowing in that way she always did when she knew something was being kept from her. She stepped closer.

“Show me your hands,” she ordered suddenly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Your heart stopped. “Mother, I’m fine—”

“Show me,” she said again, her voice sharper this time.

Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your dress, panic rising in your chest. You glanced at the door, as if it might offer you some escape, but it didn’t. Slowly, reluctantly, you raised your hands, keeping your sleeves as far down as possible.

Her eyes narrowed even further. “Pull up your sleeves.”

“Mother, please, it’s nothing—”

Her patience snapped. She stepped forward and grabbed your wrist with a speed you hadn’t expected, yanking your sleeve up before you could stop her. Her eyes landed on the bruise, the ugly blues and purples staining your skin. Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching in her throat.

Her face shifted from confusion to horror, then to something colder, more dangerous. Her grip on your wrist tightened, not in anger at you, but in sheer disbelief. “Who did this to you?” Her voice was low, each word deliberate and sharp like the edge of a blade.

Your eyes darted away, heart racing. You didn’t want to say it. Saying it would make it real.

Her eyes followed your gaze, and slowly, realization dawned on her face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled slowly. “Aemond,” she said his name like a curse, as if the mere sound of it tasted bitter on her tongue.

She released your wrist, her fingers lingering there for a moment as if she wanted to pull you into an embrace but didn’t know how. Her eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment. Her jaw clenched, and you saw the familiar look of resolve settle on her face.

“This ends now,” she said firmly. “You are not his to break.” Her words hit you harder than you expected. Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

“You’ll stay here with me tonight,” she added, her voice leaving no room for argument. “No one will touch you without answering to me.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt something akin to hope. Maybe this time, she wouldn’t look away. Maybe this time, she would fight for you.

You lowered your gaze, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to keep your composure. “Please, Mother,” you whispered, your voice strained with desperation. “Forget it. Don’t do anything. Don’t say anything to him.”

Alicent’s eyes narrowed with concern as she moved closer to you, her hand gently cupping your cheek. “I won’t stand by while he treats you like this,” she said firmly, her voice filled with quiet resolve. “You are my daughter. No man, not even Aemond, will lay a hand on you and walk away unscathed.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you grabbed her hand, clutching it tightly. “You don’t understand, Mother,” you said, your voice breaking with emotion. “He’s not the same anymore. He won’t care who you are. He said it himself — no one can stop him. Not you. Not even Aegon.”

Alicent’s eyes flickered with something dangerous — not fear, but fury. Her grip on your face tightened ever so slightly. “Then he is more of a fool than I thought,” she said coldly. “He forgets who raised him. He forgets that I am still his mother, and I have not forgotten how to protect my own.”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head frantically. “Please, Mother, I’m begging you. Don’t provoke him. He’s not thinking clearly. He’s not like he used to be.” Your voice broke, and you felt the tears spill down your cheeks. “If you push him, he’ll do something reckless. To you. To Aegon. To everyone.”

Her eyes softened as she saw the fear in you, her strong, brave daughter now reduced to a trembling shadow of herself. Alicent knelt in front of you, her hands resting on your knees. “Listen to me, my sweet girl,” she said softly, looking up at you with a mother’s fierce love. “You are not alone in this. You have me. You have Aegon. You have all of us. Aemond is not as untouchable as he thinks.”

You shook your head again, heart pounding in your chest. “He’ll never let me go, Mother,” you whispered, tears streaming freely now. “He’ll always find a way to control me. He’ll hurt Aegon if he has to.” Your hands clutched at hers, eyes wild with fear. “Please, Mother. If you care for me at all, don’t challenge him. Just let it go.”

Alicent’s lips pressed into a thin line as she gazed at you, torn between anger and heartache. Slowly, she pulled you into a hug, cradling your head against her shoulder. Her hand stroked your hair gently, just like she used to when you were a child.

“Shh, it’s all right,” she murmured, her voice softer now but no less determined. “I won’t do anything to put you or Aegon in danger. But I won’t stand by and let him destroy you either. I promise you that.”

Her words were meant to soothe you, but they only made you more afraid. Because you knew Alicent. You knew that behind her calm, measured words was a storm brewing. And Aemond was reckless enough to walk straight into it.

You slowly pulled away from your mother’s embrace, wiping your eyes as you steadied yourself. Just as you were about to speak, the sound of the door creaking open drew both of your gazes toward it.

There she stood — Helaena. Her soft, serene smile as innocent as ever, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her eyes met yours, gentle and kind, as though nothing had happened. As though she hadn’t betrayed you.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body going rigid. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Your mother glanced between you both, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. She could sense the tension.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Helaena said softly, tilting her head. Her voice was light, so sweet and harmless that it made your chest tighten with resentment. “I just came to see Mother, but I can return later if this is a bad time.”

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, her eyes searching yours as if she were expecting you to say something. But you didn’t. You refused to give her that satisfaction.

“No need,” you muttered quietly, stepping back from your mother. “I was just leaving.”

Alicent’s hand brushed your arm. “Are you sure, my dear? You don’t have to go.” Her voice was concerned but firm. She could see how tense you were, how stiff your movements had become.

“I need to rest, Mother,” you said, your eyes focused on the ground. You knew if you looked at Helaena, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from glaring. “I’ll return later.”

Without waiting for a response, you moved toward the door. Your heart pounded in your chest with every step. You could feel Helaena’s eyes on you, following you like a shadow. The air felt heavier with every inch you crossed.

As you passed her, you didn’t look at her. You didn’t acknowledge her. She shifted slightly, as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. The silence between you was louder than any scream.

Once you were past her, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your steps quickened, your heartbeat thudding in your ears as you put as much distance as possible between yourself and that room.

Her smile. Her voice. Her innocence.

All of it was a lie.

You bit your lip hard, willing yourself not to cry. Not again. You had shed too many tears already, and you refused to give her the power to cause any more.

You froze at the sound of Aegon’s voice calling your name. Panic shot through you like lightning. Your breath hitched, and your heart pounded so loudly you could hear it in your ears. You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. If Aemond was nearby, if he saw you with Aegon, there would be consequences — consequences you weren’t ready to face.

But you didn’t move either. You stood there, caught between fear and longing.

His footsteps echoed softly as he approached. You could feel him before you saw him, the familiar warmth of his presence just behind you. Slowly, he stepped in front of you, his eyes searching yours with quiet concern.

“Look at me,” Aegon said softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. His voice wasn’t teasing or playful like usual. It was steady. Serious. “Please.”

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Your eyes stayed fixed on the ground, afraid that if you met his gaze, you’d break.

His gaze lowered, his eyes drifting to your hands. Slowly, his face changed. His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing as he took in the dark bruise on your wrist. His fingers reached out, gentle but firm, taking your hand in his.

“Who did this to you?” His voice was low, quiet, but the edge of anger beneath it was unmistakable. His thumb traced the bruise with a touch so soft it almost hurt more.

You yanked your hand back, cradling it against your chest as if to shield it from him. “It’s nothing,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Aegon’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice was sharper now, his eyes no longer soft but hard as steel. “Was it him?”

Your silence was enough of an answer.

His eyes darted down the hall, his shoulders stiffening like a predator spotting prey. His breathing grew heavier, nostrils flaring as he clenched his fists. You reached for him quickly, grabbing his sleeve with your unbruised hand.

“Don’t,” you pleaded, your voice urgent. “Please, Aegon. Not here. Not now.”

He turned his gaze back to you, and for a moment, you saw the conflict in his eyes — the war between fury and restraint. His jaw worked as he ground his teeth together, his eyes scanning every inch of your face.

“He doesn’t own you,” Aegon said, his voice rough but filled with certainty. “He never did.”

Your eyes stung with tears you refused to shed. “Please, Aegon,” you whispered again. “Just let it go.”

His eyes lingered on you a moment longer, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. But for you, he relented. He let out a heavy breath, his shoulders relaxing just a little.

“Fine,” he muttered, taking a step closer. “But I’m not letting this go forever. He’ll pay for it.”

You shook your head, fresh tears brimming in your eyes. “Don’t make it worse, Aegon. Please.”

He stared at you, his eyes full of emotions he didn’t know how to say. He reached up, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek, and for a moment, everything else melted away.

“I’ll do whatever you ask,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “But if he hurts you again, I won’t wait for your permission.”

He leaned forward, his forehead gently resting against yours. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence say what words couldn’t. For once, it felt like you weren’t carrying it all alone.

Your footsteps felt heavier with every step as you entered your chamber. The air was colder than usual, as if all warmth had been sucked out of the room. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your breath came in short, shallow gasps as your eyes settled on the figure sitting by the fire.

Aemond.

He sat in silence, one elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his fingers idly spinning a dagger. The soft glow of the fire reflected off the sharp steel, casting flickering lights across his face. His gaze was fixed on the blade, his focus so intense that it was as if you didn’t exist in the room. But you knew better. His calmness was a facade—a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

You froze near the door, every muscle in your body tense. Your throat felt tight, and the urge to cry out was almost unbearable. Your eyes darted to the door behind you, calculating the distance, wondering if you could make it before he noticed.

“Enjoying your time with our brother, hmm?” His voice cut through the silence, sharp as the edge of his dagger. His tone was low, quiet, but it held a threat that couldn’t be ignored.

The dagger stopped spinning. His fingers held it still, balancing it delicately between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly, his eye lifted to meet yours. Cold. Unforgiving. Burning with barely restrained fury.

“Not going to say anything?” he continued, tilting his head slightly like a predator watching its prey. “Or perhaps… you think I didn’t see?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt your chest tighten with fear. “Aemond… I’m tired,” you whispered, forcing yourself to sound calm even as your voice trembled. “I just want to rest.”

He stood. Slowly. Deliberately. Every movement controlled and precise, like a lion stalking forward. The dagger remained in his hand, dangling loosely but never truly at rest.

“Tired?” he repeated, his tone eerily soft, tasting the word as if it were foreign to him. “Tired of what? Of your freedom? Of the warmth he gives you?”

He took a step forward, his boots thudding softly against the stone floor. Your back pressed against the door, and your breathing quickened. You had nowhere left to go.

“He touched you, didn’t he?” His voice grew sharper, more venomous with each word. “I saw it. I saw how he looked at you like you belonged to him.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh that sent chills down your spine. “But he forgot one thing.”

He was right in front of you now, so close you could feel the heat of his body against yours. Your heart pounded in your chest as if it were trying to break free.

“You are mine,” he whispered, his voice so low it felt like a hiss of smoke curling around your ear. “No matter how many times you run to him. No matter how many times you let him touch you. In the end, you will always belong to me.”

“No,” you said, your voice cracking with the weight of your defiance. You shook your head, your eyes fierce despite the tears threatening to fall. “I am not yours, Aemond.”

His eye narrowed, and his lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re wrong.”

He lifted the dagger, the cold steel barely grazing your cheek. The touch was light, almost like a lover’s caress, but the weight of the threat behind it was suffocating.

“I don’t need a marriage to claim you,” he said, his voice colder than the blade on your skin. “I don’t need anyone’s blessing. You have been mine since the beginning. And I will make sure everyone remembers that — including you.”

The tears you had been holding back finally fell, hot trails down your cheeks. But you refused to look away. “If you love me…” your voice cracked as your throat tightened. “If you love me, you will never betray me.”

His smile disappeared instantly. His face went cold, his features carved from stone. He pulled the dagger away from your cheek, his gaze empty but somehow more terrifying than his rage.

“I love you,” he said slowly, as if it were an undeniable, absolute truth. “And that’s exactly why you will never leave.”

Without another word, he turned his back to you and walked toward the fire. He set the dagger down on a small table beside him, his movements calm, methodical, as if nothing had happened. He sat back down in the chair, folding his arms over his chest as he stared into the flames.

“Go to bed, wife,” he said, his voice unnervingly casual, as if the past few moments hadn’t happened at all.

It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

Your legs felt as if they had turned to stone. You couldn’t move. Your whole body trembled as you stared at him, watching the way his eyes remained fixed on the fire, not even glancing your way.

He didn’t have to. You knew he was still watching you.

Your eyes darted to the door behind you. Just a few steps. Just a few.

“If you step out of that door,” he said suddenly, his voice soft, almost gentle. “I will make sure Aegon never sees the sun again.”

Your heart stopped. Your eyes widened, and your gaze shot toward him. He didn’t look at you. He stared into the flames as if they were more interesting than anything you could ever say.

But you knew he wasn’t bluffing.

The tears came harder now, streaming down your face. Your hands shook as you wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging your body tightly. Slowly, painfully, you turned away from the door and took one step toward the bed. Then another.

Your heart felt heavier with every step, as if the weight of the world had settled on your shoulders. Your knees wobbled, but you forced yourself forward until you reached the edge of the bed. You sat down, your eyes fixed on the floor, your hands pressed against your growing belly.

“Good girl,” Aemond said softly, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. “You know where you belong.”

You felt yourself break. Something inside you, something you’d fought to protect, shattered.

You lowered your head, closing your eyes tightly as if shutting out the world would somehow make it all go away. But nothing could block out the cold weight of his words.

Your fingers curled over your belly, cradling the life growing inside you. Tears dripped down onto your lap, and a quiet, broken sob escaped your lips.

But there was no comfort for you here. No warmth. No safety. Only the sound of the fire crackling softly in the hearth and the quiet hum of Aemond’s breathing behind you.

You knew then that you were trapped. Not by the walls of the Red Keep. Not by your duty or your vows.

But by him.

The days passed quickly, but each one felt heavier than the last. You had grown cautious-every glance, every step, every breath weighed down by the fear of Aemond's eyes on you. His presence lingered even when he wasn't there, like a shadow that never faded.

You learned to move carefully, to avoid his gaze whenever possible. Your secret moments with Aegon became even more fleeting and hidden. You met him only in places where Aemond's eye could not reach-when he flew with Vhagar or during his training with Ser Criston. In those moments, you could breathe freely. For just a little while, you could feel like yourself again.

But every night, the suffocating weight returned. No one knew. Not your mother. Not Aegon. No one knew what happened in the darkness of your shared chamber.

Aemond's hand would grip your wrist with bruising force, dragging you to him no matter how much you resisted. You would plead with him, reminding him of your condition. "Please, Aemond, I'm carrying a child." Your voice would break, your tears falling freely.

But he never listened. His response was always the same. "i don't care, i will claim what's mine."

You stopped fighting after a while. It hurt less that way.

Every night, you lay there with tears streaming silently down your face, staring at the ceiling as he claimed what he thought belonged to him. His hands gripped you like a vice, his breath hot and sharp against your neck. Every whisper of his love felt like poison in your ears.

"You're mine," he would say, as if repeating it would make it true.

But in your heart, you knew it wasn't love. It was possession. It was control.

Every morning, you'd wake up with new bruises-faint marks on your wrists, your hips, and your neck. They lingered for days, and you covered them with sleeves and scarves, hiding them from the world. But you couldn't hide them from yourself.

Aemond would watch you dress with that same, sharp gaze. His single eye followed every movement, as if to remind you that no matter where you went, he would always be watching. You never looked at him. You never spoke to him unless absolutely necessary.

But he didn't care.

He knew. He knew you feared him. And he relished in it.

The only peace you found was in Aegon's presence. His touch was gentle. His words were soft. Sometimes he would press his forehead against yours, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

"Run away with me," he whispered once, his voice filled with quiet desperation. "We'll leave them all behind. I'll take you somewhere no one will ever find us."

Your eyes stung with tears. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to take his hand and run far, far away. But the image of Aemond's face flashed in your mind-the cold fury in his eye, the sharp edge of his dagger.

You knew he would hunt you to the ends of the world.

"He'll kill you, Aegon," you whispered, voice hollow. "He'll kill you just to make me watch."

Aegon cupped your face with both hands, his eyes fierce with defiance. "Let him try."

But you shook your head. "No. I won't lose you too."

Aegon pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you like a shield against the world. You buried your face in his chest, allowing yourself a moment of weakness, a moment to pretend you weren't afraid. His hand rubbed slow circles on your back, soothing, steady, strong.

"I'll protect you," he vowed, his voice firm with resolve. "Even if it costs me everything."

But in the pit of your heart, you knew that protection would come at a cost. And you were terrified of what Aemond would do when he realized that the thing he cherished most-the thing he believed he owned -was slipping from his grasp.

You were now in the final month of your pregnancy, and the weight of it all — both physical and emotional — had become nearly unbearable. Your swollen belly left you confined to your chambers, your movements slow and careful. The once-familiar halls of the Red Keep now felt distant and unreachable.

Your mother visited often, her presence soothing, though her eyes always lingered on you with quiet worry. She could see it — the exhaustion in your gaze, the unspoken pain you carried. She never asked questions, but her hands would often reach for yours, squeezing them gently as if to remind you that she was still there.

Aegon visited, too. His visits were a much-needed reprieve from the storm that raged around you. He brought laughter, warmth, and stories that made you feel like you were living outside these walls. When he sat beside you, he’d rest a hand on your belly, grinning as he felt the baby’s kicks. “A little dragon with fire in their blood,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling with pride. His smile always eased your heart, if only for a moment.

But there was another presence in your chamber that refused to be ignored.

Aemond.

He allowed Aegon to enter your chambers, but only under his watchful eye. He would stand in the corner, arms crossed, his gaze cold and sharp as Valyrian steel. His presence hung in the air like a storm cloud, suffocating and ever-looming. You could feel his eye on you, always watching, always calculating.

Every glance exchanged between you and Aegon was met with the slow, deliberate clenching of Aemond’s jaw. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t have to. The threat lingered unspoken in the room.

“You don’t have to stay,” you had said to him once, exhaustion seeping into your voice. “I’m safe enough with my brother.”

Aemond’s eye flickered toward you, his lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. “You misunderstand, dear wife,” he replied, voice low and sharp as a blade. “I don’t stay to protect you. I stay to remind him that you belong to me.”

You felt the chill of his words settle into your bones. It wasn’t protection. It was control. It had always been control.

Aegon shifted beside you, his hand still on your belly, fingers pressing firmly as if anchoring himself to you. His eyes never left Aemond, his jaw tightening, his nostrils flaring. For once, Aegon didn’t have a joke to throw at his brother. He didn’t laugh. He only stared.

“You can remind me all you want, brother,” Aegon finally said, his voice quiet but sharp. “It won’t change a thing.”

Aemond’s gaze darkened, his fingers twitching at his side. His eye moved to you, as if daring you to say something, to deny him, to challenge him. But you didn’t. You stayed silent, your hand covering Aegon’s on your belly.

Aemond noticed. Of course he did.

His lips pressed into a thin line, his hands clasping behind his back as he approached. Each step felt like the sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard. He crouched in front of you, his eye level with yours, so close you could feel his breath on your skin.

“Soon, you’ll give birth,” he said softly, his voice deceptively tender. His hand reached for your face, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that made your stomach twist with unease. “And when that child is born, it won’t matter whose blood runs through its veins. It will be mine. As you are mine.”

You turned your face away, but his grip on your chin forced you to look at him.

“Say it,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “Say it, my love. Say you are mine.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you bit your tongue, refusing to give him that satisfaction. His gaze searched yours, his patience waning.

Aegon’s voice shattered the moment. “Enough, Aemond.”

The air grew thick with tension. For a moment, it felt as though one wrong move would set everything ablaze. Aemond’s eye flicked toward Aegon, his lip curling into a sneer.

“Be careful, brother,” Aemond warned, his voice low with menace. “You’ve taken enough from me. Do not take her, too.”

Aegon rose slowly from the bed, his eyes locked with Aemond’s. “If she were truly yours, brother, you wouldn’t have to force her to say it.”

The silence was deafening.

Aemond stared at him for a moment longer, his breathing slow but deep, like a dragon ready to breathe fire. But then he rose to his full height, his hands still clasped behind his back. He tilted his head, his single eye narrowing in cold amusement.

“Be careful, Aegon,” he murmured as he turned on his heel, walking toward the door. “You never know which dragons bite.”

With that, he left, his footsteps echoing down the hall like thunder. The room felt lighter in his absence, but the weight on your chest remained.

Aegon sat beside you again, his hand finding yours. You clutched it tightly, your breath coming in shallow, unsteady gasps.

“He won’t touch you again,” Aegon promised, his voice low with conviction. “I won’t let him.”

But you both knew Aemond’s promises were not so easily broken.

As night fell and darkness draped itself over the world, the soft glow of moonlight spilled into your chamber, casting pale silver rays across the stone floor. You sat by the window, gazing out at the vast, endless sky, your fingers slowly tracing circles over the curve of your swollen belly. The rhythmic motion brought you a small measure of peace, a quiet reminder of the life growing within you.

But that peace did not last.

You felt him before you heard him. The subtle shift in the air. The weight of his presence behind you. His footsteps were too quiet, too deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. Your heart quickened, but you didn’t move, didn’t turn. Perhaps if you stayed still, he would leave you alone.

Then, you felt it.

His fingers brushed through your hair, slow and deliberate, as though he had every right to touch you. Your body tensed immediately, every muscle going rigid, and your breath caught in your throat. The tenderness of his touch only made it worse — the careful, possessive way his fingers lingered at the ends of your silver strands, as though you were something precious that belonged to him alone.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to stay still. Do not react. Do not show fear.

But he didn’t stop.

His hand moved to the crown of your head, his fingers weaving through your hair as he leaned down. You squeezed your eyes shut, every part of you screaming to move away, but your body betrayed you, frozen in place. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the faint brush of his lips as he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re too quiet tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and soft as silk, but laced with a quiet edge of danger. His lips lingered a moment longer before pulling away. “Are you afraid of me, wife?”

You didn’t answer. Your eyes stayed fixed on the window, your gaze distant as if the stars could somehow save you. Your fingers still rested on your belly, rubbing small circles as if to shield your child from the storm that lingered behind you.

Aemond’s patience was thin. It always had been.

His hand slid from your hair to your shoulder, his fingers curling around it with just enough pressure to make you feel it. “Answer me,” he said more firmly, his tone like a blade pressed against your skin. “Are you afraid of me?”

Your throat felt tight, as though it had been closed off with chains. For a moment, you thought of Aegon’s words. “He won’t touch you again. I won’t let him.” But Aegon wasn’t here. It was just you and him. It had always been just you and him in this room, in this prison masquerading as a marriage.

You swallowed hard, forcing down the fear that clawed at your chest. Slowly, you turned your head just enough to glance at him from the corner of your eye. His face was calm, too calm, his eye watching you intently, sharp and unblinking. The firelight from the hearth behind him flickered, casting shadows over the sharp angles of his face, making him look like something carved from stone.

“No,” you said quietly, your voice hollow. “I’m tired, that’s all.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his eye narrowing as if he were trying to see past your words, past your mask. Slowly, his grip on your shoulder loosened, his fingers sliding away, but not before brushing against your skin one last time.

“Rest then,” he said, his voice a whisper of command. “You’ll need your strength soon.”

He walked away, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. You didn’t turn to watch him go. Your eyes stayed on the stars. Your fingers pressed more firmly against your belly as if your child could feel your silent plea for strength.

Behind you, you heard him settle onto the bed. The quiet rustle of fabric. The shift of weight as he leaned back against the pillows. The room felt colder with him in it.

You stayed by the window for a while longer, counting each breath, each second, until you were certain his gaze was no longer on you. Only then did you allow yourself a quiet, shuddering breath.

He called you to the bed, his voice low but commanding, leaving little room for refusal. Your heart sank, but you knew there was no escaping it. Slowly, with quiet, measured steps, you approached, each movement feeling heavier than the last. The weight of his gaze bore down on you like chains, unyielding and inescapable.

He watched you intently, his sharp eye tracking your every move, and when you sat on the edge of the bed, he tilted his head, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice as smooth as silk, but it sent a chill down your spine.

You lay down beside him, your movements stiff and mechanical. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and you tried to keep your breathing steady, calm, though every muscle in your body was tight with tension.

He turned toward you, his long silver hair falling over his face, the firelight catching on its strands, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

His fingers brushed against your cheek, tracing the curve of your face with an unsettling gentleness. You didn't flinch, didn't move — you'd learned that it only made him more persistent.

"Look at you," he said softly, as if in awe. "So quiet, so obedient tonight." His thumb lingered at the corner of your mouth, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. "I could almost believe you've finally accepted your place."

You didn't respond. Your eyes stayed fixed on a distant point beyond him, unfocused, your breathing shallow but steady. His thumb pressed lightly against your lower lip, tilting your face toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Don't look away," he whispered, his voice gentle but firm. "You're mine. You always will be."

Then, without warning, he leaned in, his lips pressing against yours. It wasn't harsh or forceful, but that only made it worse. It was slow, deliberate — the way a man kisses something he believes belongs to him. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss.

You didn't move.

You didn't push him away, but you didn't kiss him back either. Your lips were still, unmoving, cold. You knew better than to resist outright, but giving in was something you would not do.

Not tonight. Not ever.

He pulled back just far enough to look at you, his eye narrowing as he studied your face. For a moment, it felt as though he might say something - a rebuke, a threat, a reminder of who you belonged to. But he didn't. His hand lingered on your face, his fingers trailing down your jawline, before resting lightly on your throat.

He could feel your pulse there. He always did this, as if he needed to remind you how fragile you were in his hands.

"One day, you'll stop fighting me," he said quietly, almost like a promise. "One day, you'll see that there's no one else who will ever love you like I do."

His hand slipped away from your throat, and he settled back onto his pillow, closing his eye as if nothing had happened. You stayed still, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, your heart pounding in your chest.

You gripped your mother’s hand tightly as a sharp wave of pain tore through you, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. Sweat clung to your skin, your back arched as you cried out. The maester and midwives moved around you with practiced urgency, their voices a blur of instructions and reassurances. But none of it reached you. All you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the sound of your own labored breathing.

Tears streamed down your face as you turned your gaze toward your mother. “Please,” you sobbed, voice hoarse from exertion. “Please, let Aegon in. I need him.”

Her eyes softened with concern, her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, she didn’t answer, torn between your plea and her sense of propriety. Her fingers brushed your damp hair away from your forehead, offering comfort, but it wasn’t enough. “He’s right outside,” she said, her voice soothing but firm. “You’re strong, my sweet girl. You can do this.”

“No!” you gasped, clutching at her hand as another contraction hit, fiercer than the last. Your body trembled, and you shook your head violently, eyes wild with desperation. “I need him, Mother! Please, I need him with me!”

Her eyes darted toward the door, hesitation clear on her face. She knew who else was waiting outside. Aemond. His presence lingered like a shadow even beyond the thick wood of the door. Her gaze returned to you, torn but seeing the raw fear and pain in your eyes.

“Very well,” she relented at last, brushing her lips against your temple. “Stay strong, my love. I’ll bring him.”

Her hand slipped from yours, and you watched her figure retreat toward the door, her skirts swishing behind her. Your breath came in shallow, broken gasps as you tried to focus on anything but the pain. You heard the faint creak of the door and muffled voices beyond it.

The sound of heavy footsteps filled the air.

Aegon’s voice came first — louder, more insistent. “Move, Aemond.” His tone was sharp, like steel drawn from its scabbard. “She needs me.”

“She doesn’t need you,” Aemond’s voice followed, cold and controlled but laced with something darker beneath it. “She has me. She doesn’t need anyone else.”

“Don’t make me push you aside, brother,” Aegon hissed, closer now, each footstep deliberate and unyielding. “I’m going in.”

There was a tense pause, then the heavy thud of something — or someone — hitting the wall. The door swung open wider, and for a moment, you thought Aemond might follow. But it was Aegon who entered, his eyes locked on you, face twisted with concern. His gaze softened the instant he saw you, taking in your tear-streaked face, your trembling form, and your outstretched hand reaching for him.

“I’m here,” he breathed, rushing to your side and falling to his knees next to the bed. His hands were warm as they clasped yours, his fingers curling around yours like he was anchoring you to the world. “I’m here, love. I’m not leaving you.”

Your sobs broke free at his words, and you squeezed his hand like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “Don’t let him in,” you whispered frantically, your eyes darting to the door. “Don’t let Aemond in.”

Aegon’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking toward the door, where the shadow of his brother lingered just beyond the threshold. He glanced at your mother, exchanging a silent understanding. Her eyes were sharp as she moved to block the doorway, her stance unyielding.

“No one will come near you,” Aegon vowed, his eyes never leaving yours. “Not him. Not anyone. It’s just you and me now.”

The pain came again, searing and unrelenting, and your cry filled the room. Aegon’s forehead pressed to yours, his voice a low, steady murmur in your ear. “Breathe with me,” he said, his breath warm and familiar. “In and out. Just like that. We’ll do it together.”

And together, you endured.

The pain was unbearable, sharper than any blade, hotter than any flame. You screamed, your voice hoarse from the strain, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t do this!” you cried, your breath coming in short, frantic gasps. “I can’t, Aegon! I can’t!”

Your body trembled with exhaustion, every muscle burning with effort. Panic clawed at your mind, the weight of it crushing you as you shook your head in denial. Your eyes locked onto Aegon’s, wild and desperate.

He cupped your face, his thumb brushing away your tears with a tenderness that contrasted with the storm of pain inside you. His gaze held no doubt, only fierce determination. “Yes, you can,” he said, his voice low but steady, like an anchor in the chaos. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known. Look at me, love. Look at me."

You blinked, trying to focus on his face as everything around you blurred into the background. The soft glow of the firelight, the hurried voices of the maester and midwives, even the sound of your mother’s quiet prayers—all of it faded away until it was just him.

He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger there for a moment longer than necessary. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was warm, a promise wrapped in steel. “One more push. Just one more, love.”

The maester’s voice cut in. “It’s time. Push now, my lady. You’re almost there!”

Your whole body shook as you gripped Aegon’s hand so tightly that you were certain you’d break his fingers. But he didn’t flinch. He only squeezed back, grounding you, giving you something to hold on to.

With a cry that tore from the deepest part of your soul, you bore down with all the strength you had left. Every fiber of your being focused on this single moment, this one final push.

“You’re doing it,” Aegon whispered, his voice filled with awe and pride. “You’re doing it, my love.”

There was a searing, blinding moment of pain. And then—relief. The weight in your belly lifted, replaced by the sharp, piercing wail of a newborn’s first breath.

“It’s a boy,” the maester announced, his voice filled with quiet joy. “A strong, healthy boy.”

Your chest heaved with the effort, your whole body slack with exhaustion. But the sound of that tiny cry pulled you from the haze of pain. Tears welled in your eyes as you turned toward the maester, who carefully placed the squirming, wriggling babe into your arms.

He was small, red-faced, and loud—so loud. His silver hair, damp with birth, clung to his tiny head, and his little fists flailed in the air. You stared down at him, breathless and overwhelmed.

“He’s perfect,” Aegon breathed, leaning down to rest his head against yours, gazing at your son with wide, wonder-filled eyes. “You did it, my love. You did it.”

A sob broke free from your chest, this time from joy instead of pain. Your fingers brushed against the soft skin of your son’s cheek, marveling at how small and delicate he was. “We did it,” you whispered, turning your gaze to Aegon, eyes filled with love and gratitude. “We did it together.”

He kissed your temple, his lips warm and lingering against your skin. “He’s ours,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “No one will ever take him from us.”

As you gazed at your son, your heart swelled with a fierce, protective love that drowned out every fear, every doubt. He was yours. Yours and Aegon’s. And no one—not Aemond, not anyone—would change that.

The air in the room grew heavier as Aemond’s boots echoed softly against the stone floor. You could feel each step, the slow, deliberate pace of a man who believed he had every right to be here. Your eyes flickered from your mother’s warm gaze to Aemond’s cold, unyielding stare.

Aegon was seated beside you, his fingers gently stroking the back of your hand. His presence was steady, grounding, and you clung to it like a lifeline. He noticed Aemond’s approach immediately, his posture straightening, his eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pounce.

Your heart tightened when Aemond stopped at the side of your bed. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the bundle of warmth cradled against your chest—your newborn son. For a fleeting moment, something softer passed through his eye, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

He leaned down slowly, his silver hair falling around his face like a curtain, and before you could react, his lips pressed firmly against your forehead. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender. It felt like a brand—an unspoken claim.

His hand brushed your cheek as he straightened, his cool fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long. His gaze locked onto yours, sharp as a dagger’s edge. “You have done well, wife,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, as though every word was a vow. His eye flickered to the baby nestled in your arms. “Our son is strong. I knew he would be.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

You felt Aegon’s grip on your hand tighten, his fingers curling protectively around yours. His body went rigid beside you, every muscle taut with barely restrained fury.

“He’s not yours, brother,” Aegon said, his voice sharp but controlled, like a sword just before it strikes. “You know that as well as I do.”

Aemond’s smile was a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. He didn’t look at Aegon—he only looked at you. “Blood is blood,” he murmured. “No matter how it is claimed.”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of his words press on your chest like a stone. “He is not yours, Aemond,” you said firmly.

He didn’t move, his gaze fixed on you. His eye lowered slowly to your son, and his fingers twitched at his side, curling into a loose fist. “Does it even matter anymore?” he asked quietly, but his voice was like a blade slicing through the stillness of the room.

“It matters to me,” Aegon shot back, his voice laced with venom. He stepped forward, just a pace, and you could feel the shift in his body, the protective edge to his movements. “If you have something to say, brother, say it. But don’t you dare cast your doubts here.”

Aemond’s gaze snapped to Aegon, sharp as Valyrian steel, his lip curling ever so slightly. “I wonder if you’d still be so bold without your guards and wine to dull your senses.”

“Try me.” Aegon’s voice was low, dangerous in a way that surprised even you. "you can't just take what's mine just like that"

Aemond tilted his head slightly, his eye narrowing with quiet amusement. “Take?” he repeated, his tone as smooth as silk but sharp as steel. “I do not need to take what is already mine.”

Your mother’s eyes flicked between the three of you, her face tense with concern. “Aemond,” she said softly, placing a hand on his arm, trying to pull him back. “Leave them be. Please.”

For a moment, it seemed like he might listen. His gaze darted to his mother, his jaw tightening, his breath slow and controlled. But then his eyes settled on Aegon, and something darker flickered behind them.

“Careful, brother,” Aemond warned, his voice low with menace. “You’ve taken things from me before. Do not think I will let you take her too.”

Aegon rose from his seat slowly, his movements calm, calculated. But his eyes were anything but calm. They burned with a quiet, seething rage. He stepped between you and Aemond, his back to you, his shoulders squared like a shield.

“She is not yours, Aemond,” Aegon repeated, his voice low but firm. “Not now. Not ever.”

The two of them stood there, inches apart, their gazes locked in a silent war. It was a moment of unbearable tension, and you feared for what might happen next.

But it was your mother who broke it. “Enough,” Alicent said, stepping between her sons, her voice steady but commanding. “Both of you, enough.” She turned to Aemond, her eyes hard but pleading. “This is not the time for your pride, Aemond. She has just given birth. Leave her in peace.”

For a moment, Aemond didn’t move. He looked down at you, his eye lingering on the sight of you and the child in your arms. His face was stone, but you saw the flicker of something else—resentment, jealousy, longing.

You turned your head at the sound of your sister’s voice. Helaena entered the room, her soft footsteps barely audible on the stone floor. She carried her baby in her arms, rocking her gently, her usual distant but kind smile on her face.

Her eyes landed on Aegon first, and she tilted her head, her gaze as soft as ever. “Aegon,” she called his name with a small, almost pleading tone. “The twins are asking for you. They won’t sleep without their father tonight.”

You saw Aegon glance at you, hesitation flickering in his eyes. His jaw clenched, his grip on your hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll be back,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing against your fingers.

You nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile. You could see the guilt in his eyes. It wasn’t easy for him to leave you here, not after what had just happened with Aemond.

Aegon leaned down, pressing a kiss on your forehead, then glanced at the baby nestled in your arms. “Rest, love,” he murmured softly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He stepped toward Helaena, and she glanced at you briefly. Her gaze lingered on the baby in your arms. Her smile grew wider, her eyes lighting up with that familiar dreamlike warmth. “He’s beautiful,” she said softly, her voice gentle as a lullaby. “He looks just like you.”

Her words should have brought you comfort, but they didn’t. Not when you knew who was still standing behind you.

You felt it before you heard it—the weight of his presence, the sharp, cold sensation of being watched too closely. Aemond’s breath was steady, his gaze sharp as ever, piercing into the back of your head like a blade.

He moved closer, slowly, as if to make his presence unavoidable. His voice came low and quiet, just for you to hear. The words were soft but sharp as a dagger’s edged.

“Does it ease your heart,” Aemond whispered, his voice like silk and steel, “to think he’ll love you more than he loved her?”

Your chest tightened painfully, the words like a sudden blow you weren’t prepared for. Your breath hitched, but you didn’t turn to look at him. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

But he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his voice even quieter now, dangerously gentle. “Men like him never stay, sweet wife,” he continued, his words coated with venom. “Not for you. Not for anyone.”

Your fingers gripped the fabric of your blanket tighter, your heart pounding in your chest. You bit your lip to keep from saying something that would make it worse. You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already thought he had.

Behind him, Helaena’s eyes shifted to Aemond. Her smile faded, her brow furrowing ever so slightly. She blinked slowly, as if seeing something others could not. Her eyes met yours briefly, something unspoken passing between you. She knew. Somehow, she always knew.

“Come, Aegon,” Helaena said softly, turning away, her voice gentle but firm. “The twins are waiting.”

Aegon glanced at you one last time. You could see it in his eyes—the promise that he would return. That he wouldn’t leave you alone.

But he left. He had to.

The door shut softly behind them, and you were left alone with him.

Aemond didn’t move for a long time. You could feel him standing there, feel his eyes on you like a brand on your skin. Slowly, he moved around to stand in front of you, his gaze locking onto yours with that same cold intensity.

“You will never be free of me,” he said softly, his head tilting slightly, his eye narrowing. “No matter how far he runs or how sweet his words are, you will always belong to me.”

He crouched down, his gaze level with yours now. His face was unreadable, his voice soft but absolute. “Do not forget, sweet wife,” he said, his eye flicking to the baby in your arms. “I never forget what is mine.”

Your heart felt like it might shatter in your chest, but you didn’t look away. Not this time. You met his gaze head-on, your eyes fierce despite the fear clawing at the edges of your mind.

“I am not yours, Aemond,” you said, your voice steady but firm. “I never was.”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a thin, dangerous line. For a moment, you thought he might strike you. But instead, he reached forward, his fingers brushing lightly over the baby’s head, his touch far too gentle for a man with so much darkness in his heart.

“We’ll see,” he whispered, standing slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “We’ll see.”

He turned and walked toward the door, his steps slow, controlled, each footstep echoing louder than the last. He didn’t look back as he left, but his presence lingered, like a storm waiting to break.

The door closed behind him with a soft click, and you exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

You looked down at the baby in your arms, your fingers stroking his silver hair. His little face was peaceful, unbothered by the storm that surrounded him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his tiny forehead, your heart aching with love and fear all at once.

“You are mine,” you whispered to him softly, your voice trembling with quiet determination. “No one will ever take you from me.”

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