#imagine they didn’t realize at the sea

[kaypanda]

Ok but like what if:

Barsha soulmate AU

[starlooove]

ppl only pretend to care about Duke Thomas and read more than wfa online. Ppl irl who know his name prolly care about him. No I’m not coping with the fact that I’m WATCHING the breaking down and setting to the side of a potential if not already major black character not just in dc but in the batfam specifically AGAIN

[gurugirl]

Says Who? | demonrry

Summary: Y/n goes to an underground club and meets the devil and she'll never ever forget it.

A/N: Something filthy and fun for Halloween! Not really scary, mostly just a smutty thing!

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: smut, filth, spitting, major MAJOR size kink, creampie, unprotected public sex, Harry's a demon (or maybe he's just a dick - you choose)

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Y/n could feel the base vibrating through to her marrow. The whole club was alive, a sticky hot sea of sweaty, dancing bodies, strobing lights, god-awful costumes.

She was less concerned about her white angel wings getting dirtied than she was about her drink getting something tossed into it. Some of the people making eye contact with her were… she didn’t know, but perhaps she’d keep her distance.

Though, as she looked down into her plastic cup, she realized it was all but pink melted ice. If she wanted something to worry about (other than her delicate white wings) she’d need a refill.

She figured she put a little too much effort into her costume. Her angel wings were made of real feathers and lace, lined with ribbing to make them look real, and her gauzy smock dress left little to the imagination for what she wore under. Of course, she doused herself in a healthy amount of soft shimmer and glitter and attempted to do the perfect winged liner –it wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty damn near close.

She'd gone alone to the club. A maybe not-so-smart move in retrospect, but still. She was there and she wanted to do something she'd never done before. Something outside of her comfort zone. Maybe even a little dangerous for once in her life.

The bar was packed with bodies, all lined up for a drink. Y/n waved her arm in the air, hoping to get the attention of the lone bartender. The poor guy was running his ass off and she could see sweat stains under his arms. It was rather stifling in the building.

Suddenly a very warm hand was pressed into her back, hot palm burning through the thin fabric of her dress down to her skin, “You don’t need another drink, Y/n.”

Turning to her right she saw a man with an imposing stature standing over her, his massive mitt cradling his own cup as he looked down at her, green irises practically glowing.

“Says who? I’ve only had one anyway. And how do you know my name?”

The grin that stretched over his face caught her off guard. He was handsome. She let her eyes wander from his broad shoulders up his neck and to the top of his head. He had thick dark waves with small pointed horns sticking out of the top just so. They looked real. The devil. How fitting a costume for a man who looked like that.

“Your name is printed on your cup,” he pointed. Y/n had forgotten that everyone was given a cup upon entry, their name scrawled across the smooth plastic, and told not to lose it. It was one of those underground club events and the cup was like your ticket to get in once you'd passed the initial pay-to-enter area.

She laughed and smiled, “Oh, I forgot,” she looked down at his cup again, noticing large rings adorning his thick fingers, “Harry.”

“What’s an angel doing in a place like this anyway?”

Another laugh puffed from behind her lips before she used her tongue to wet her parched mouth, “It’s a club. I don’t know. Saw an ad and it sounded fun. Why? Should I be worried?” Y/n bit her lip for effect. She wasn’t worried. But she did like this man’s vibe. He was flirty without being overt, his warm hand still sprawled along her back, face dangerously close.

“You should be worried. This is not a safe place, Y/n,” an evil smile worked its way over his features. He was teasing. Or maybe he wasn't.

She shrugged and looked up at him through her lashes before releasing her bottom lip, “But you’re here,” she looked back over her shoulder at the wild crowd behind them, “You gonna keep me safe from all the bad guys?”

“Is the angel asking the devil to watch over her tonight?” His grin grew lopsided, a dimple digging into his skin. God, he was attractive.

“Maybe. But you won’t let me get another drink so I don’t know…”

His eyes scraped over her face and down to her angel outfit, auditing, before he pushed into her back, moving her toward him closer. She watched him sit his cup down on the syrup-smeared bartop before his hand found her jaw, fingers digging into the soft part under her mandible, “Oh you’re parched, are you? Open up for me, angel.”

She felt her body swell and seethe in heat from his bold ask. But what else was she there for that night but to have a little fun with a stranger? So she parted her lips, slowly opening wider as he dipped over her frame and tilted her neck back until she felt the warm glob of saliva land on the tip of her tongue. She let out a pathetic moan when he licked over her lips, his spit moistening the dry skin like he was making sure she knew whose spit was sliding down her throat.

“Did you swallow for me?” He asked cooly as he kept her jaw in his hand.

Knocking her head up and down she kept her eyes on his and then suddenly she was being pulled away from the bar. He had an arm tucked around her waist, keeping her next to his warm frame until they’d moved into the shadowy edges of the club and he prodded her into a small space between a column and a metal air duct before he was pushing his hips and mouth against hers.

He tasted like autumn outdoors, hay, spit, burning leaves… Running her fingers into his hair she felt his hand on her hip, bunching at the sheer fabric until he was reaching into the thin wispy lace of the top of her white panties, palm gliding down her belly button until the pads of his fingers were pressed in a place she would normally never let a stranger touch. Especially not in public.

But it was Halloween, and this was what she’d been looking for. Something a little dangerous, a little crazy. This was the kind of place where one could get away with such iniquities.

Soon, the only thirst that remained was to feel more of him. To feel his hands, his fingers… He smoothed his tongue against hers as his middle finger rubbed tightly over her exposed clit after he'd torn the delicate fabric of her underwear. She was throbbing against him. Wetting his digits slowly until it was slippery and he could easily slide one and then two inside of her cunt.

“Love when I make angels wet. You’re just a good girl but this is exactly what you were looking for, wasn't it?”

She moaned and yanked his hair, hoping he’d put his lips back against hers. She loved his mouth, loved how he kissed her all dirty and raw.

“Yes…” She blinked up at him and then gasped when he shoved a third fat finger inside of her hole. It made her wobble forward into him, her cheek pressed into his solid chest. He fucked her just like that, on his fingers as he kept whispering into her ear, “Gonna change your life tonight angel. Show you what it feels like to really get off.”

Her mouth was wide open as he slid his fingers so deep she was certain nothing had ever gone in like that before. Not even Donny’s hard prick felt like that (what a disappointment he had been).

“Can’t even stand up straight and that’s just my fingers in there little girl. What are you gonna do when it’s my cock splitting you in half, hm?”

She groaned as he continued pumping his fingers through her gummy insides and she gripped onto his biceps so she didn't simply wither to the floor.

Y/n didn’t want anyone to see what was happening but it felt so good and she was so close. Already. The heel of his palm was bumping, sliding into her clit with every thrust of his wrist and she swore he was fucking into her to the beat of the bassy electronic music.

Her head began to spin and her ears were ringing, muffling the noise of the crowd and the music when she felt the delicious release of her orgasm.

Harry pushed her back into the wall quickly when he felt her shaking and with his free hand he held her face, smushing her cheeks with his thumb at one side and his pointer finger on the other, “Look at me when you come. Your orgasm belongs to me. Fuck that’s so pretty…”

She was stunned. It felt so good. Her body was writhing and being pushed and pulled at the hulking man’s direction. He guided her through it, plunging his fingers inside of her and dragging them over her slick spongy spot at the front of her wall. It was like he’d found a hidden switch within her insides and turned it on for her.

“You gonna keep being a good girl for me? Let me claim you and fuck an orgasm out of you on my cock this time? Want that, angel?”

Y/n’s rationale had gone out the window the moment he spit into her mouth and licked over her lips at the bar. So she nodded as he pulled his fingers from her cunt and brought all three, slimy, coated in her arousal, up to her lips, “Open up that thirsty little mouth. Suck.”

She wrapped her lips around his fingers and he pushed them past her comfortable gag spot as he made haste with his other hand, undoing his pants before pulling out his dick.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth and pulled at her neck, "Take a look. Think it'll feel nice and snug inside that tiny little angel pussy?"

Y/n shifted her eyes down to the hot engorged dick the man had brushing against her, his tip wide and ruddy against her labia. She inhaled, looking up at the man and then back down at the size of him, "It's… I don't know… It's so…" She bucked into him, feeling unsteady, her thighs still shaking.

"At least twice as big as what you've played with before. I know. But you get used to it. Come to love it. The way it plugs in so deep, carves into your insides, and makes a nice wet home… No one ever forgets it."

She clutched his forearm with a shaky hand and used her other to reach down and touch him. He was hot. So much warmer than she expected. Peering around his broad shoulders she could see people grinding and doing ungodly things on the dancefloor already. There were no rules in that club, except to not lose the cup you were handed when you paid to enter, and she'd already lost that at the bar somewhere.

When she felt him grip tight the meat of her thigh and perch it over his hip he slid his cockhead to her dripping seam and began to dip in.

"Oohh…" she warbled out a moan and then looked up at his handsome face, "Mmm…"

"Open that pretty mouth, show me your tongue."

She did what he said, parting her lips as her pussy spread open little by little. The feel of him slowly pushing into her was sticky, gooey, sharp. But the warm spit that dripped onto her tongue was salacious, made her pussy throb and flutter around his girth.

"There we go. Get that pussy spread apart for me. Let me have you, angel."

She was already letting him have her. She was his… whatever he wanted, however he wanted it. Right in front of everyone… sloppy, wet, deranged, disgusting…

"Mm ahhh…" she panted, her brows pushed together as he rutted in and in, filling up every bit of empty space she had available. Split open, stuffed full, slippery hot debauchery.

Harry threw his head back for a moment, basking in the tight pussy wrapped around him. Sopping. It was his chance to feel a bit of heaven.

Reaching down for her other thigh, he pushed her up and lifted her, making her wrap her legs around his waist so he could work into her deeper, really give her a taste of what the devil could do.

She yelped and gurgled wetly, eyes bulging as he buried himself in, "Fuck…"

"Yeah? Didn't know angels liked to say such words." He swiveled his hips, a harsh plunge in again, and the squelch of her pussy against his length meant she was as wet as she could possibly be. "Oh you're soaked, angel. No wonder you're so thirsty. All your juices are down here," He rocked up into her and she cried out, "So you can take me properly."

While no one much cared about the angel with her wings pressed into the wall, her legs wrapped around the devil's waist as he stuffed her pussy with his big cock, it was obvious what was going on in that dark little corner every time the strobe flashed over the pair copulating. If the look on her pretty face didn't give it away, all fucked out, wet lips parted, eyes rolling back into her head… it was the way the devil was rocking his hips sharply against her, making her legs shake with every thrust.

He knew he was hollowing her out, poking in beyond what was comfortable for her… he knew she'd never forget the way he felt inside of her. It'd stick with her forever and she'd never be able to come again without thinking about the devil.

She'd masturbate thinking about that night at the club and she'd release with the image of him inside of her. And any poor man who stuck his rinky dinky human dick into her pussy would never get her off –she'd be thinking of Harry, the demon with the biggest cock she'd ever had. That would be the only way she'd ever be able to come. A curse, but also a blessing because now she'd always be able to get off to the memory of him no matter who was fucking her. Everyone else would pale in comparison… but that's what he loved so much about fucking sweet human girls. They never forgot his big cock and he owned them in a way. At least he owned their orgasms.

Slushy, gloopy, splatting… his long dick dragged and kissed against her sweetest spot and she felt the tingle and the ache of it as she bounced with every drive of his hips.

"Give me that come, angel. Right on my cock."

She inhaled sharply as he laved his tongue over her lips, slicking his saliva over her mouth and spitting onto her tongue again, "Mine. It's all mine, isn't it? Cunt will never feel it like this again but she'll remember who owns her won't she?"

Y/n was simply done for… her body was putty, molten liquid, dripping, bowing to his whim. His cock would be forever imprinted within her womb as she felt him slide through her channel, thick and throbbing - it was as if she could feel his bulbous cockhead pushing into her tummy, bulging at the front. Microscopic tears around her gaping, wet, stretched muscle she'd need to tend to later. All worth it to be fucked like that.

Her eyes were bleary as she looked at him when she began to come. He was right and she knew it. Her body would never forget it. She was ruined for him already as her vocal cords hitched up an octave and she made his favorite noise. Every dip of his broad crown through her gushing walls smeared his leaking slit against her cervix.

Harry watched the angel fall apart around his cock, face crumpled, body reveling in her release, toes curled in her shoes, but when she moaned his name and gazed into his eyes with droopy lids he couldn't hold back the way she was milking around him. He slammed into her, one brutal thrust, cock burrowing in as he splattered and pumped into her. His warm spend, a mucusy mural for her tight little wet walls. Like his signature left behind so anyone else who entered would know he'd been there. That everything inside of her cunt belonged to him because he'd already claimed it…

She'd think about all that later. That she'd had unprotected sex with a stranger at a club. That he'd filled her with his sperm and spit into her mouth. She'd get tested and watch for her period and then get tested again. And when she turned out clean and not pregnant part of her would be disappointed that she didn't have some excuse to search for the man to let him know what he'd done so she could do it all over again with him. Get her brains fucked out and her little pussy stretched in a way that shouldn't have been as good as it was.

But she wouldn't regret that part. Her only rue that night would be that she hadn't gotten his last name or maybe a number. It was probably better to not know who he was, though. Because if she did she'd obsess. She'd fiend. She'd pine. She'd stalk. She'd make a fool of herself to just have another taste. And a guy like him would probably already be onto the next.

It was better to not know who he was because he wasn't really nice. When he was finished with her, when his come was fucked into her and he made her watch how he shoved it all back in with his huge cock, gripped her neck, and made her look at the way it dripped from her puffy, used pussy and how he took his dick and pressed it back into her stinging hole and told her to not to clean herself up –he left. He dropped her down to her feet, tucked his big cock back into his pants, patted her hot little cheek, and walked off without even turning back to look or check on her.

She watched him disappear into the crowd with her torn panties at her hips and his come dripping down the inside of her legs, chest heaving, heart thrashing in her chest… Her back and her legs and her pussy ached but she'd have him again if he just came back. So, it was better to not know.

It was better to not know because maybe he actually was the devil.

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

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[chuulyssa]

from people you know to people you don’t: singer!geto

singer!geto with his silver rings clinking against the mic stand when he adjusts it mid-performance. with his fingers running through his long, dark hair just to play on the bad boy persona the media has made of him. with his spot under the spotlight in front of thousands of people to see, who lets the crowd chant in some of the vocals in the chorus while he laughs, gripping the mic and pointing it to his fans, his black painted nails gleaming in the stage lights.

singer!geto who avoids interviews, questions, and who doesn’t sing love songs... but somehow his fans always end up finding love letters in his cryptic lyrics. and he always leaves them unconfirmed too, just smirking whenever paparazzi ask if they’re real or fiction. always answering “my fans are my muse” whenever pressed about his inspo.

singer!geto who leans into the bad boy image of him by the media because it’s much easier to do so than to explain the quiet loneliness and crippling depression he has felt since high school. because it’s much easier to be seen with a new woman every month than to confess to his entire world.

singer!geto who finds himself thinking of you late at night, about what it all could’ve been had he not been so selfish. he doesn’t understand if he’s selfish or just protecting you, but whatever it is, god does it hurt him, and a little voice in his mind hopes you’re hurting as much as he is right now, not being able to touch the skin of your face, or the softness of your lips in his big and lonely penthouse.

singer!geto whose eyes are always searching around in his concert, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces just so that maybe he could find yours, and maybe that would mean he was finally forgiven for pushing you away for so long, for always having his name in headlines linked to other women who aren’t you, for always being so scared of his own fans for you.

singer!geto who’s lyrics are always penned at three in the morning when his imaginations of you are the most vivid. and he swears to his pr team he’s not in love, never has been. yet they all question how the words pour out more sorrowfully than they would have if it had been all just stupid stories of broken couples.

singer!geto who doesn’t know where you are right now after he cut you off that night. so he travels around the world in the guise of his world tours, and doesn’t forget to explore the whole city in case he finds you in the marketplace buying your favourite fruits like he used to, or in the store with the snack you used to share with him on movie nights, or in the shopping mall where he swore he would buy you pretty dresses when he grows up and becomes rich.

singer!geto who wishes he knew how to grow up happy, who wishes he never dreamed his dream now that he has achieved it, who still wants what he wanted all those years ago so selfishly. even after all those “you have to sacrifice to achieve your goals” he says to the world, he wishes you would unblock him on your instagram just so you could match pfps again, so you could post him on your stories saying “my pookie” again, and even though he said he hated when you called him that, he would kill just to hear it spill from your lips one more time.

singer!geto who would always question why most successful people said money couldn’t buy everything, but has now realized that they were right. money couldn’t buy the way you laughed at his jokes, or the way you smiled at the new song he wrote, or the way you kissed his calloused fingers after a long practice session.

singer!geto who looks at small things at the shopping center and thinks you would like them, so he buys them even though you aren’t here to savour them anymore. he doesn’t remember how often he’s been questioned about this habit of buying clothes that won’t fit him, or things on his shelf that most certainly could never match his style. he could go on and on about the meaning those carried for him, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

singer!geto who’s a coward, too afraid to take your name in front of the crowd of his thousand or so fangirls. what if you didn't like the spotlight? what if the girls got a bit too crazy? was it his fault for picking this career after all? was it his fault he fell in love with you more than he did for the strings of his guitar?

singer!geto who climbs up on stage for the final day of his tour, and it’s in the old city you used to live in. the old high school the two of you would go to was long demolished, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the love you held for him was destroyed along with that building as well. but among the low murmurs of the crowd, and the light falling on their faces, his eyes search for just one person almost habitually.

and he finds her.

you.

singer!geto who’s always been a bit shy when it came to singing in front of you. so when he sees you in the audience, his voice falters, and he forgets his purpose, and although he isn’t quite sure if his delusions have finally caught up to reality, or if his imagination has become progressive enough to project his feelings in the real world, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint as if to demand if you were real. if you were really there.

singer!geto who you smile timidly at, too small in the row of his million or so fans, too much of a speck in the sea to be noticed by anyone else. but he notices. he always notices. and you think this is the first time he has taken this long to tune his guitar on stage, and the others might have missed the faint pink on his cheeks. he was always shy.

“you’ll like this one,” he says as if you haven’t already liked the hundred songs he wrote before.

singer!geto who keeps forgetting the next lines of the song he wrote, and instead keeps adding lines that feel more raw, more real than anything anyone has ever heard before. and he has always refused to sing love songs, then why is this one about wanting to be braver to keep a relationship he quit, his fans wonder. but how would they know that singer!geto performs under the stage lights every night, but he has only ever felt seen when he was with you.

singer!geto who tumbles downstage immediately after the performance, hearing the chants of his name only distantly, just so he can scream at his managers to find the pretty lady in the purple dress he had bought for you so long ago and forgotten about after thinking you would’ve thrown it away just like he had done to you.

singer!geto who finds you walking up to him with a sheepish smile, and his breath catches in his throat. he doesn’t want to believe it is real — he wants to meet you alone, not in front of all the prying eyes of his team. his eyes are wide and his lips are quivering, and the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is the hand you extended to greet him.

“hi,” you introduce your name, and his shaking hands meet your firm ones.

he stiffens and nods, surprised by the formality but not completely so. his fingers clutch tightly around the back of your hand that he knew so well, but now it just feels so unknown. he desperately tries to claw at you, or rather what he remembers of you, the one who has haunted the lyrics of his songs for so long.

his voice is trembling when he says your name, though it feels foreign on his tongue now. have you changed so much that you forgot him?

“i’m a fan, can i have your autograph?”

you could have the whole man if you requested, sweetheart.

but you don’t know it.

you don’t remember.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

a/n: i have my math 3h paper tmr wtf am i doing here

[jarofstyles]

Dress

Hellooo. Here is a best friends sister sorta request- h is best friends with your brother 👀 and he’s tired of hiding 👀 I think this is a one off, maybe a two off if I’m feeling spicy.

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Words- 3k

Warnings- exhibitionism(don’t do stuff in public pls), dirty talk, soft dom!h, slight angst, slight mention of violence, people pleasing tendencies, etc etc etc

———

"I just wish things were different. I wish we didn't have to hide. I wish your brother knew about us. This sneaking around shit… it’s getting old. I don’t like having to pretend you aren’t the only fuckin’ thing I’m thinking about."

“I know…” The dark corner of the club was their solace. The humid air from the sea breeze leaked into the club around them and overly loud and slightly dated music being the unlikely reprove to having to keep up appearances through the last few days. Harry’s family always came with them on this vacation out to the islands and it used to be hell on earth. Each year she had tried her hardest to tamper down her crush, but now she didn’t have to.

Well, not unless their families were around.

With her brother in his own room, Harry had volunteered to take Y/N out as a ’chaperone’ of sorts and in turn, gave her a real taste of what it would be like if they didn’t have to hide their relationship- but she wasn’t exactly ready for the explosive way she knew her brother would react. He took things incredibly personally sometimes, but she was doing her best to try and not let it scare her too much. Harry was right- it was getting old. incredibly so, but it was hard to let go of her peacemaker mentality. She’d adopted it her whole life to keep the peace, diffuse situations, and now that she had finally found happiness with someone- it happened to be the one person that she knew he was going to freak out over.

“We need to tell him eventually, I know that. But I just…” Her fingers tangled in his necklaces, the alcohol making it easier to be emotionally vulnerable for once. “I don’t want to ruin it. Don’t want him to scare you away.”

Harry's heart ached as he looked at Y/N. He knew she was right, but the thought of hiding their relationship made him feel sick. Tired, even. He didn’t like having to watch his hands, where he was looking. He should be able to room with his girlfriend. It wasn’t like their parents hadn’t been rooting for it for ages, but he tried to understand where she was coming from.

Maybe it was a bit of the rose colored glasses keeping him from seeing what she did, but he didn’t feel the need to valiantly protect her brother from the knowledge that he was dating her. "I don't want to hide either, darling." He said softly. “M’not going to let anything come between us, especially not him." His hand slid up her thigh, wrapping around to the back of it and flexing his fingers.

"Your brother might piss me off when finds out, but only because he's probably, definitely going hit me. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I promise you that." His face grew more serious. "I don’t know how to make you understand that I am not afraid of him. I’ve been his mate for years. I know what he’s like but respectfully, he’s going to need to get over it and realize that I only have the best intentions..."

“I know.” She repeated, the humid air hitting her neck as she pushed bed hair off her shoulder, craning it to look up at him. It was unfair how handsome he was, with his curls sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck and the light shadow of facial hair since he had missed shaving yesterday. “I just… I know it’s selfish, but I want to spend tonight imagining he already knows and we don’t have to worry about anything. That no one would be all… shocked or even say anything if I do this.” Leaning up, she lightly pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before settling back on her feet, lips slowly separating. Harry made no move to pull away from her. If anything, he followed.

Harry's eyes shifted as he watched her, his heart picking in his chest. He loved the way she thought, the way she imagined a world where they didn't have to hide. Never once did he imagine himself to be one of those lovesick fuckers, but here he was again. Swooning over a goddamn kiss.

But really, who could blame him? He loved the way she kissed him, all soft and sweet and so damn gentle, like she was still a little hesitant he would say no even though they’d kissed dozens and dozens of times- stolen them right under everyone’s noses. As if he could ever say no- his body wouldn’t ever allow that. It was all greedy for her, had no capacity, no ability to deny her if anything when it came to telling his girl no. "Then let's imagine.”

Sinewy arms wrapped around her waist as he pulled her back into their hidden corner, the music pumping around them and his body hiding her from the crowd.. "Let's imagine that your brother knows and he's okay with it. That he's even happy for us." He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin. “A little grossed out, because I think that you are… the most beautiful, incredible, sweet woman I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing… but that would only be the truth.”

“You really think that about me?” Her voice spoke solely to him. In their seclusion, people were still passing by, but no one paid attention. No one cared. To the rest of them, it looked like a young couple too loved up to keep hands off of each other. In most ways, that was the truth. Who knew invisibility could be such a gift at times?

Harry chuckled against her throat, his breath hot on her sticky skin. She smelled like sunscreen and that tequila sunrise she had accidentally splashed on herself, so a bit of orange juice and grenadine. Edible, summer, he wanted to sink into her and melt. "Of course I do." The man scoffed, his hands slowly roaming over her body as if he couldn't help himself. "And if your brother knew about us, I'd tell him exactly that. That I want you… and I want t’make you my girl properly. But that’s probably where it would stop, because I think he’d want to kill me if he knew what ran through my head when I get to see you.” Harry knew it was a good thing he wasn’t a mind reader, and that they’d gotten away with it for a bit so far. Yeah, he’d be taking a punch because he knew how Harry’s mind worked but he didn’t know that he fucking loved her- that this shit was different.

“Well… since we’re pretending all is right in the world right now…” Her hands splayed across his chest, chin tilted up as he pulled away from her throat. Starry eyes glazed over in love peering up just at him, not knowing she was the one he was orbiting. “Why don’t you enlighten me on the things you wouldn’t tell him?”

Harry's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked at her. "You really want to know, sweets?" He crooned, his voice low and sultry. "Alright then." His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him so she could feel just how much he wanted her.

"First... I'd never tell him that I think about you all the time. Like... right now, I'm imagining wrapping your legs around my waist and backing you up against that wall over there." His eyes flicked to the wall behind her before meeting her gaze again. "And how bad I want t’kiss you until you barely have any breath, make you borrow some of mine."

Y/N felt her breathing pick up, ironically enough, feeling trapped in the best way. Whenever Harry was around her she sort of wanted him to smother her, in a weird sort of way. it was hard to explain but close never felt close enough. Harry just had this sort of… way about him that had her itching to get close and bask in his own kind of warmth. It soothed her bones.

"N’then once you caught up, I'd keep kissing you until you were panting, so that cute little giggle that turns into that sexy moan that you do. Fuckin’ love that." he continued, his voice growing deeper as he showed little restraint with his words. It was easy to forget where they were when he got started. "And then... " He trailed off, leaning in to kiss her neck again, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I probably shouldn't tell you the rest."

“Tell me.” She whined, in a way only tipsy Y/N wouldn’t feel shame for. “Please, baby?” Something she’d noticed was how strongly he did react to those little pet names so she kept them sparse, but seeing how he reacted always acted as a reward. “You can tell me. I want to know.”

He groaned low in his throat at the nickname, nipping at her earlobe before whispering to her the rest of the details he had been keeping away, waiting for the coaxing she had to pry out of him. "I'd slide my hand up your pretty little skirt and underneath your panties, feel how wet you already are for me. Slip a finger inside, nice n’slow at first, until you start to rock against my hand."

“Yeah? In front of all these people?” She was slightly shocked- but slightly not. Seeing as Harry had really struggled with not being able to publicly show her affection, she should have guessed he’d be handsy in all scenarios if he has the full permission- but this was more than she had anticipated. Even more so… She liked it.

"Mhm..." Harry agreed, his hands slowly sliding up her thighs, bunching the hem of her skirt as his hands went underneath without a second thought. "And if you kept making those little noises like you do when I touch you, no one would even notice."

Y/N she didn’t always make the best decisions but she knew she wouldn’t regret anything with Harry. As cocky as the man could be, as arrogant as he may appear, getting to know him up close and personal the last few months that they’d evolved into more than what they were… she knew he was a good guy. He was the type of guy she wanted. If he wasn’t, she wouldn’t be risking the peace her life had for it.

But no one ever said she wasn’t impulsive. “It is loud in here.” His body did hide hers in the corner, making it easy to be bolder. “So you should put your money where you mouth is, and touch me.”

"Oh, I plan on it" Harry said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn't waste any time in sliding his hand fully up her skirt, his fingers brushing against her skin as he made his way underneath her panties. His pace was careful, his touch light as he slowly slid a finger inside of her. Then soft hitch of her breath made him hum felt her bury her face in his chest to muffle any noise she might make. All talk, his girl, but he didn’t care too much- not when he felt that slick hole around his digit after being essentially edged all week. He continued to slowly pump his finger in and out, his thumb gently circling her puffy clit.

Biting his lip as he felt her clench around him, he could feel himself grow harder at the thought of being the one to make her feel like this. He added another finger, still moving slowly but picking up the pace slightly. "I want to take you out, show you off. I'm so tired of hiding you." Harry whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed a kiss to her temple as he continued to move his fingers inside of her. "I want everyone to know that you're mine. Don’t want to have t’sneak off in vacation just to play with my girl’s cunt. Should’ve been making you cum the whole time." Harry's other hand came up to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her properly. His eager tongue slipped into her mouth as he continued to move his fingers inside of her, feeling her wetness coat his fingers.

She was clinging to him, her nails digging into his arms as she tried to keep quiet. Her breath was coming in short gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Face buried in his neck, her teeth sank into his skin to muffle her moans as he felt her shake against him. Y/N had never dabbled in public play before, and she knew no one could see, but the thrill of it all had her more wet than she had anticipated. Sure, the girl talked big game but she didn’t know what she would do if she had actually got caught being touched like this. Add in the fact that Harry’s tank top hugged him perfectly, his tattoos contrasting his skin, the broad shoulders and brush of his facial hair against her sensitive skin had her feeling drunk.

“That feels so fucking good.” She mewled, unsure if she wanted his mouth to keep her quiet or his chest.

"Shh..." Harry hushed her, his voice low and warning. "You have to be quiet, baby. Know it’s loud but y’don’t want anyone t’hear you." As much as he liked that idea, he knew his girl. That was something they’d need to work up to. Just feeling her dripping down his knuckles as he fingerfucked her was shocking enough, so he was more than pleased with this. His face nuzzled against her neck, his stubble scratching her sensitive skin. "Wrap your arms around my neck. Lean back against the wall."

Putting her trust in him was easy, or maybe it was the pent up sexual tension she hadn’t been able to release all trip as she did as he asked. The position made it look like a couple drunkenly making out, but his hand angled the farthest from the dancing drunk crowd was working slowly under her skirt.

Harry took advantage of her new position, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of her as his thumb continued to rub against her center. He felt her squirm against him, her arms tightening around his neck as she buried her face in his chest once more to muffle her moans. "Good girl... keepin’ so quiet for me... " He praised, his fingers picking up pace as he fought to keep himself calm. He glanced around quickly, making sure no one was paying attention to them, before he gently tugged her leg up, resting it on his hip.

The man had been good this whole trip. He’d played by her rules, trying his best to keep prolonged eye contact to a minimum, not leaning into her too much, not touching her, trying to act as he had in the past- but it was borderline impossible. Not with the way he felt about her. He wanted to rub all over her like a cat, wanted to wake up with her in the pretty room with the balcony and be the one to order her morning coffee. He was so tired of being good. In all honesty, the man didn’t care who found out anymore, not when being with her felt like this. Her little cunt gushing over his digits, dripping down the back of his hand as he curled his fingers just so.

"You're soaking through to my wrist..." Harry growled lowly, his other arm banded around her waist to keep her upright as her knees grew weak. He could feel her tensing up, her breath hitching as her body grew warmer. "Want you t’let go for me, love..." He curled his fingers one more time, pressing against her spot over and over as he rubbed his thumb in tight circles over her clit. Her whole body shuddered against him, her legs trembling as she tried to hold herself up. "You’re right there, baby. Can feel it. Let it go for me, my sweet girl... "

Harry buried his face in her hair as he felt her clamp down around his fingers, her body trembling slightly as she came silently against his hand. Her nails dug painfully into his shoulders as she bit down on his chest to keep quiet, her whimper muffled against his skin as she rode out her high. He held her leg tightly against his hip, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright as her body shook with her orgasm. His fingers remained buried inside her, his fingertips gently stroking against her spot as he kept her on edge, prolonging her orgasm the best he could.

Pulling her face up, he dragged her mouth back to his. Their kiss was sloppy and desperate, Harry's tongue pushing into her mouth as he devoured her whimpers, groaning in response as he felt her cunt clenching rhythmically around his fingers. One of his favorite feelings, his favorite tastes. The only ways it could be better would be with his tongue on her clit or his cock inside of her. His hand shifted, tangling in her hair, holding her head still as he ate at her mouth, swallowing her noises as he kept his fingers buried inside her trembling pussy.

"Shh, baby... I've got you... " Harry cooed, his voice low as he gently worked her down. Slowly removing his fingers, he brought them to his mouth and licked her taste off of them before he lowered her leg back down to the ground.

“We’re telling him. Tomorrow.” He mumbled, wiping his spit soaked fingers on his shorts. “I’m not spending the rest of this trip with you not in my bed because he’s gonna have a fuckin’ tantrum. He’ll get it over, baby.”

Looking down at her, his eyes softened significantly as he gazed at her flushed face and messy hair. "You're staying in my bed tonight. I’ve gone long enough without it. Everything else, we’ll figure out in the morning."

[monstersholygrail]

Could you please do something with Ghostface and any Monster bf?

Your Tentacle Monster bf didn’t really know what the whole deal was over Ghostface or why people were going so wild for them. Especially you, his most precious human. What was so great about a black robe and a mask when you had dozens of tentacles at your disposal that could fill every single one of your holes? Each tentacle has the ability to fuck you absolutely brainless on their slick lengths and yet you go feral over this?

Tentacle Monster bf just doesn’t understand. He stands in the costume shop, a grimace on his face as he fiddles with the plastic bag holding the Ghostface costume. But he plucks it off the rack anyway. He’d do anything for you, and when he saw you like all those videos of other monster bfs getting dressed up as Ghostface, he wanted to be able to give you that too. In fact, he wanted to be the only monster you liked doing someone like this.

He figured it must be a human thing too based on the knowing look the cashier girl at the counter gave him. As she rung up his purchase she kept glancing at him, her grin growing wider. His tentacles wrap around himself more tightly, somehow feeling exposed under the girl’s all-seeing eyes. He quickly grabs his things as she hands him back the costume.

“Don’t forget to have fun with the chase! The fear is the best part,” the cashier girl calls out as he begins to walk out.

Tentacle Monster bf stops short in his tracks. He glances over his shoulders, features drawn tight in confusion. But the girl merely winks before looking down and messing around with the cash register. Just when he thinks he’s figured this whole thing out, a whole other twist comes along to sweep him off his feet.

A chase. Is that why people went so crazy over it? Is that what you wanted from him? A wicked smile begins to overtake his features as he steps out of the shop. He could chase you… Oh, he could definitely chase you. A shiver of anticipation courses through him at the thought.

Standing outside your shared home, your Tentacle Monster bf situates his costume and puts the finishing touches on it beside the mask. He thought it would be best to surprise you with it. It would make it more fun!

Walking up he knocks on the door, not bothering to use his key. He hears no response from you despite knowing you’re home. He knocks again, a little harder this time. This time you call out his name, wondering if he’s lost his keys. He doesn’t answer now but knocks again, even harder. He imagines the tension growing within you, and how it’ll burst into a sea of arousal the moment you see him.

A second later the door swings open, revealing your wary face. Seeing its only your bf, relief starts to pour over your form. That is until you see what your Tentacle Monster is wearing and you pause, eyes widening. Your bf flashes you a grin that all fang.

“Get ready to run, baby,” he growls and slips the mask over his face.

Realization dawns on you quickly and you immediately turn and bolt down the hall. Tentacle Monster bf feels the thrill of the chase shoot down his spine and he snarls as he runs after you throughout the house.

Your body grows hot as you run from room to room. And it isn’t the exorcise but the arousal blossoming and coursing through your veins. Your core pulses with need as you loop around a bend, feeling your bf gaining speed and closing in on you. Letting out a fierce shriek you bolt into the living room. The chilling roar your bf releases as sparks shooting straight down to where you need him most. You don’t know what made your bf do this but god are you glad for it. You always fantasized about being chased but you didn’t know it would be this damn hot.

Just as you’re about to pass the couch, your bfs tentacle shoot out and curl around your ankles. You release a mix of a yelp and a moan as he forcefully swings you onto the couch, the furniture sliding back with the momentum. Tentacle Monster bf growls as he quickly mounts you, ducking his head close to your neck. Your holes clench around nothing as the Ghostface mask invades your space, terror and arousal building higher within in.

Tentacle Monster bf doesn’t say a word and it only makes everything that much more intense. All you can hear are his throaty growls and harsh breaths. More of his tentacle slip past the costume robe and up your legs. Before you can even adjust to the tantalizing sensation, your bf slams, not one, but two of his tentacles deep inside you with a solid stroke. A fierce scream echos off the walls, your back arching as he immediately begins pounding away at you.

Gasps and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably. You weakly try and meet his thrusts but it’s like something’s taken over him as your bf ruthlessly plunges his tentacles as deep inside you as they can go. Your eyes roll back as he keeps adding more, stretching you beyond the limits of what you thought you could take.

Tentacle Monster snarls at you as you keep trying to move. More of his tentacles whip out and wrap around your limbs, pinning them down on the couch. Forcing you to take what he gives you. And you love it. Your body in a constant stats of ecstasy. The never ending pleasure has you shaking as his merciless thrusts bring you closer to the edge.

He continues to pound away into your sloppy hole, the loud squelch of your bodies meeting only turns you on more. When you finally cum on his tentacles, clenching around him tightly, you swear for a moment you see white. A silent scream leaving you. And Tentacles Monster bf just keeps going, working you through one of the most intense orgasms of your life. He follows you in release after a few more erratic thrusts of his tentacles and you moan weakly as you feel them spurt his hot cum deep inside you.

His tentacles stay nestled in deep inside you as he collapses on your spent form. You reach up and carefully slip off his mask, warmth filling you as you can see his face again. Contentment washes over you both as the adrenaline of the chase begins to fade.

“I think I like this human tradition of dressing up in the costumes,” your bf rumbles, his tentacles twitching inside your hole, showing you just how much he likes it.

A soft moan leaves you and his tentacles move around a little more. You can’t help but chuckle, a dazed smile forming on your face as you realize you’re not gonna be going anywhere anytime soon.

[diejager]

Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 

This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.

Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.

So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 

You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 

What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.

“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 

“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”

Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[ohbueckers]

SUIT & TIE. all pressed up in black and white, and you’re dressed in that dress i like. love is swinging in the air tonight, let me show you a few things.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, another request i got done in ample timing because i’ve been procrastinating the last two parts of what’s my name real bad LMFAOOO enjoy! @patscorner @thaatdigitaldiary thanks baes i needed an excuse to use this picture… warnings, sexual content.

you’re standing near the grand entrance of the gala, lingering behind as your parents moved effortlessly through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting guests. you’d been to many of these events for their business, and yet you always seemed to dissociate. you glance down at the dress you’re wearing—your girlfriend’s choice, of course. it fits you like a glove, the deep color standing out in a sea of black and white. paige had insisted on it, and you’d given in because the way she looks at you in it is worth every second of doubt you’d had when she first showed it to you.

but paige was late. again.

your dad walks up to you, a smug smirk on his face as he sinks his hands deeper into his pockets. “she’ll be here. follow us in,” it was like he could read your mind as he throws his head in one direction, which you figure is the main hall where the night is supposed to start. his arm extends, offering for you to take it, and after a brief pause, you do, rolling your eyes with a half-smile before threading your arm through his.

she had promised to be here after the nike event, swearing she’d make it before the night really started. you understood; between interviews, sponsorships, basketball commitments—she’s been pulled in every direction, and truthfully, you couldn’t be prouder of her. her fame had skyrocketed this past year, and it was safe to say she was booked and busy. in the world of paige bueckers, this all came with the territory.

but tonight, you need her here. it’s your parents’ night, the business gala they’ve been planning for months, and you were happy the location had aligned with her schedule. as much as you’ve gotten used to being the one waiting for paige, there’s something about this evening that’s different. maybe it’s the nerves of being around all these people, or maybe it’s the way you can’t stop checking your phone, hoping for an update.

the minutes crawl by slower than they should, your eyes flitting across the room, searching the crowd for a glimpse of white. as your fingers tap nervously against the side of your glass. the crowd blurs together—tuxedos, dresses, champagne flutes clinking—but no sign of her yet.

just as you think about actually socializing with other people, your demeanor probably giving uninterested to anyone who thought about it, the doors part, and she walks in, all legs and confidence as she shoots that smile at everyone. for a second, you think you’ve imagined her, that your mind has conjured her up to calm your nerves. but no. she’s here.

and she looks damn good.

your heart rate picks up as she clocks you from across the room, that familiar smirk pulling at her lips when she sees you staring. she knows the effect she has on you, on everyone, and she’s not shy about it.

when she finally reaches you, standing just close enough, her voice is low, intimate as she wraps her hand around your hip, and she says, “told you i’d make it, didn’t i?” paige has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. always.

you swallow, glancing at her shoes—a pair of nike’s that she’d probably worn for the shoot. of course, she’d forget to change them after the event. “you were so close to pulling this off,” you tease, nodding toward her feet. “really would’ve had me if you ditched the kicks.”

she glances down, a mock look of realization spreading across her face. “ahh, i knew i was missin’ somethin’. but honestly? i think they make the fit.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile spreading across your lips. “only you would wear sneakers to a business gala.”

she leans in, smirking smugly, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs, “and only you could make me wanna skip this whole thing.”

your stomach flips, heat rising in your face at the way her voice drops to a dangerous level. her fingers are still gripping your waist like her life depends on it, just a subtle touch, but enough. you should be mingling, keeping up appearances for your parents, but right now? all you can think about is the way paige is looking at you, like she’s already undressing you with her eyes.

she pulls back, just enough to let her eyes trail over your dress—her dress. the one she picked out specifically because, in her words, “i know what looks good on you better than you do.”

she was right.

“you’re killin’ me, you know that?” she mutters, fingers tracing the delicate fabric of the material.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your best formal composure. “i could say the same about you. what’s with the tie?” your hand moves up instinctively, fingers brushing over it. it’s tucked neatly into her white vest, and you’re well-aware of how comfortable you both look right now.

paige’s grin is slow, knowing. “you’ve never seen me like this before, huh?”

you shake your head, licking your lips as you take her in. “no. and i wasn’t prepared. when do those pics come out again?” you’re serious enough to want to commit this image to memory, knowing that the suit, the tie, the whole ensemble might be your new favorite thing.

before paige can respond, you spot movement out of the corner of your eye—your parents approaching. you practically leap out of each other’s arms, standing a little straighter as they stroll over. you felt like two kids in highschool getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, despite being full-grown adults.

your dad gives a pointed glance between you and paige, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “well, isn’t this a sight?” he says with an undercurrent of teasing that only a parent could manage. “glad you could make it, paige.”

paige flashes her most polite smile, but there’s a faint blush creeping up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. “wouldn’t miss it,” she says, her voice softer and less full of the usual slang she’d use. she’s met your parents plenty of times before, but something about the way they’re looking at the two of you now, has her just a little shy.

your mom steps in, her own smile warm as she subtly nudges paige’s arm. “best behavior, okay?”

you watch paige turn a shade darker, chuckling as the confidence she walked in with slipped just slightly. she clears her throat, glancing down at her shoes before looking back up, all politeness. “of course. i’m on my best behavior.” who was she convincing?

you try to stifle a laugh at the sight of her—paige bueckers, who commands attention on the court and off, suddenly looking bashful under your parents’ orders. you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her like this, and honestly, it’s a little endearing.

your dad claps a hand on her shoulder, steering you both back to the crowd. “let’s get back to mingling. it’s almost time for the toast.”

the night continues, your parents dragging you from one conversation to the next, making you play the part of the dutiful daughter while paige keeps her distance, blending in with the crowd. well, almost. on her journey to becoming a household-known name, she had been stopped for pictures a few times. you catch glimpses of her every now and then, your eyes meeting across the ballroom, and each time, she gives you that same teasing look. you were glad she was here even if you couldn’t spend most of the night together.

then comes the toast, your father standing up to say a few words while the room quiets down, champagne glasses raised high. you’re only half paying attention, focus drifting back to paige like it had been the entire night, who’s already watching you from across the room. she doesn’t need to say anything, but the look she gives you is clear as day—a tilt of her head toward the hallway, her fingers brushing against her tie, sending a message that makes you wonder what her plan is.

meet me in the bathroom.

as your dad finishes up his speech, you wait a few seconds before you excuse yourself from the room, sure not to make anything look too suspicious, although your parents knew you and paige well-enough by now.

the noise of the gala fades as you move deeper into the hallway, the plush carpet beneath your heels muffling your steps. paige is waiting for you just outside the family bathroom, her back leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, but there’s nothing casual about the way she’s eyeing you up and down when she sees you approaching.

“you lookin’ real fine right now,” paige says, her voice low, a little rougher than usual. she brings her hands up, rubbing them together as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, smiling through it. “almost didn’t recognize you for a second.”

you smirk, stepping closer, as you swat her hands down, sick of those stupid rizz hands, although it always worked.. “oh, put it down!”

paige laughs, pushing off the wall and opening the bathroom door for you. “c’mon. lemme show you somethin’ real quick.”

you step inside without hesitation, the door clicking softly behind you, and in an instant, she’s on you. her hands grip your waist, pushing you back against the door, your ass a cushion against the hard surface. and before you can react, her lips crash against yours. it’s hungry, needy, because paige can quite frankly never get enough of you.

her body presses into yours, and you whimper into her mouth, manicured nails sliding around her neck, tugging her closer. “paige,” you murmur against her lips, but that only spurs her on.

she breaks away just enough to flash you a grin, her breath hot against your skin. “what? you don’t wanna?”

you laugh, the sound breathless as she moves her lips to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin in a way that makes your knees weak. “i didn’t think we’d be sneaking around at a gala,” you manage to say between gasps.

paige pulls back slightly again, her eyes locking onto yours, head slightly tilted down due to your height. “it’s not sneaking if they don’t catch us,” she reasons, and you suppose she’s right, but there was also no way you’d say no to her right now when she’s looking like that.

you smile, and her hands slide further around your waist. “c’mere.” she bites her lip, reaching for your wrist as she pulls you toward the sink, spinning you around so your back hits the counter. she hoists you up, and you don’t even have much time to process it before she’s on you again, lips finding yours as she slips her knee between your legs, parting them for her next move.

her hands begin gathering up the fabric of your dress, inch by inch. her fingers trail over your thighs, touch giving you goosebumps, and all you can do is breathe her in as she finally pushes it all the way up so it’s scrunched up at your hips.

she pulls away, lips pink and glossy. “you good?” she whispers.

you nod, barely able to speak as her hands explore you, fingers sliding slowly between your thighs, stroking your skin. “yeah.”

it’s all she needs, really. paige drops to her knees, maintaining eye contact as she positions herself between your legs. the sight of her down there should be framed. it has your pulse racing in all the right ways, and you can barely stand it.

she hooks her fingers around your panties, tugging them down like she’s done a million times before, because she has, and you stare at her with all the awe in the world as she pulls you to the edge of the counter. in an instant, her mouth is on you. you didn’t have much time, and the blonde didn’t plan on wasting it. the first flick of her tongue is slow, deliberate, like she’s savoring you, and one of your hands fly to the sink, gripping it for balance as a strangled gasp escapes your lips.

the other hand instinctively reaches to untuck her tie, pulling on it as the movement brings her closer. she smiles, teeth and all against your clit as she glances up, knowing how much you’re enjoying this. she brings your thighs over her shoulders, grip more rough now as she uses them as handles, having you in the exact position she’d pictured.

the sight of her there, all white suit and tie and sharp eyes, makes your breath catch in your throat. her tongue presses flat against you a few times, switching up the pleasure in a way that keeps you on your toes everytime.

you tug on her tie again, harder this time, making her groan into you, and you feel every bit of it. you can’t help it—the way she looks, the way she feels between your legs, it’s all too much. your back arches as you grind against her mouth, your thighs squeezing around her shoulders as the pleasure builds higher and higher.

“paige, please,” you breathe, your voice almost desperate. it’s a plea, but also a challenge, because you know she’s only going to push you further.

she smirks. “not going anywhere, baby. want more of me?”

she didn’t wait for an answer as she removed one of her hands from your thigh, pulling back just enough to see where her fingers were going. right into you, index and middle disappearing, the slight cold sensation of her rings at the base making your jaw drop lower, to the floor if possible.

luckily, you and paige have had sex in a few public places by now that you’d learned how to keep quiet. but right now, she wanted to hear you more than anything. needed to.

“lemme hear that mouth, too. don’t hold back.” and she meant it, head dipping between your legs once again as she got back to work, fingers moving at the same speed as her tongue.

“paige…” you breathe, practically squirming as you screw your eyes shut, unable to contain the whimper that escapes. the thrill of being caught, anyone knocking on that door, or worse, actually getting in, only heightens the sensation. “i can’t—”

“good,” she replies, the teasing lilt in her voice making you moan.

with every lick and thrust, she drives you closer to the edge, and you find yourself losing all sense of time and place, wrapped up in the moment with her. your fingers are still tugging tightly on that tie, and you’re sure this is the closest she’s ever been to your cunt, the closest she could possibly be.

you’re barely holding on, body trembling, legs wanting to close as the pleasure only builds, but paige doesn’t let up. she keeps going, curling her fingers up inside you, mouth moving faster, more insistent. your head falls against the mirror, and you can’t stop the soft, desperate sounds escaping your lips as you come undone without much warning. the sounds were enough.

paige doesn’t stop, not even when she’s sure your body has had enough, and your breath comes out in ragged gasps. she keeps her mouth on you, drawing out every last bit come until you’re spent, legs shaking around her shoulders.

when she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, and there’s a smug, satisfied grin on her face as she runs her tongue over her top lip. she doesn’t say anything, but she stands up, pulling up your panties with her, making sure they hold every bit of the result she’d given you for the rest of the night. uncomfortable, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

and it’d give the blonde a present for when they’d get pulled down again later.

you’re still catching your breath, your fingers loosening from around her now shriveled tie. paige looks at you as if she’s just won a championship, glancing down at her chest as she tries to smooth out the tie, tucking it back in her vest. “good as new,” she mumbles.

you laugh, breathless, shaking your head as you tug her back into you, pulling her in for a kiss. “shut up,” you murmur against her lips, tasting yourself on her tongue.

but before you can say anything more, she pulls back, her grin widening as she whispers, “round two at the hotel?”

you’ll never be able to look at her in a suit the same way again.

[katiascraft]

“I hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this. Darling, you’re the one I want” | LN4

Parings: Lando Norris x Reader.

Summary: Your group of friends decided to go to Maldives for the winter holidays and the time off of some of the guys who were drivers in F1. You and Lando had been best friends for the longest time until one night you confessed your love for each other.

Now playing: “Paper rings” by Taylor Swift.

Word count: +1,7k.

Warnings: insinuating a little. Mentions of sex. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: I would love to travel to Maldives one day 😍 don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

You were laughing so hard. Lando wanted to show you a pirouette he “learned” to do because of pierre and he failed miserably falling into the water that surrounded your cottege.

Maldives was a dream. So beautiful. And really hot.

You didn’t realized how much you needed to take a break from the world with your friends. There’s no other choice with them: you just had to have fun or you had fun anyway. You loved them all so much. You were like 20 living in the same house in the middle of the world.

Lando got out of the water and started splashing water to you and Alexa that was next to you along with Charles hugging her from behind. You three shouted and from behind Pierre and Kika threw all of you into sea water with Lando. The water was warm and cristaline. You went up out of the water to find Lando smiling at yo and he fixed your hair. You thanked him with a smile.

You were in love with him. But you never had the strength to tell him. You were a coward. You didn’t want to loose him. The feeling of losing him because you confessed your love was terrifying. You just imagined how much pain you were gonna get into. You couldn’t picture your life without him in it.

You got close to him and hugged him from behind with your legs and arms listening to the conversation he was having along all of the boy that came. His perfume was your favorite smell in the world. His sling was warm. He grabbed you by your legs and brushed his fingers gently through your skin. That sent shivers down your spine but you didn’t want to move. These moments with him were so priceless for you. You felt it was as far as this.

For people - you looked like two love birds having fun and just confessing the love for each other through the way you looked at each other. Truth was you weren’t. But at the same time you loved each other more than words could express. Or that you could express to each other. Your love was an open secret to the world.

You rested your head on his shoulder just enjoying his company and touch. The way his body felt being wrapped around your body. And just following the conversation they were having about cars and stuff.

(…)

It was late and the whole group had gone out to the restaurants on the island. Except for you lando and puerta and kika who were already asleep in their bedroom. You have prepared tea and grabbed your fav book you’re reading at the moment in your kindle. You just wanted to relax for a while in those woven beds above the sea. The sunset was present. The view was so beautiful. You took a picture to remember that moment and poured the tea from the teapot into your cup. Ready you headed to the bed that you have thrown pillows and some blankets to make it fluffier. And more comfy.

You got comfortable sipping tea from your cup. You felt so relaxed at that moment. You took a picture for Instagram. Oh well a few pictures they were. You started reading and enjoying yourself surrounded by the sound of nature and the calmness of the sea. After a few minutes you heard someone coming down the stairs of the house.

You looked and found Lando freshly showered. The smell of his aftershave made your heart race. You smiled at him. He did too.

He got comfy next to you looking at you. He was quiet. He loved watching you. Stare at you. Admire and memorize every detail. you just got comfy with him now. Rested your head on his arm and kept on reading and doing your thing. He started strolling your hair softly. You enjoyed each other’s company right there. Under the sunset. He kissed your temple and you just left your things in a safe place before coming back to him. You looked at him very closely. He smiled at you for your action. He was nervous to have you so close. He could smell your sweet perfume in 4k. See every detail and texture of your skin. You were beautiful. The most beautiful girl he has ever seen - since you were teenagers. Any other girl could compete with you. He tried to forget about you with so many girls. Trying to find what you made him feel in them. But he just couldn’t. Any of them were you. And they will never be you.

You stroke his cheek sending shivers down his spine. This was usual between you two when you were alone. And you hated yourselves for knowing everything and at the same time pretending you didn’t. You just couldn’t talk about it. You kissed him on the cheek and cuddled him. He pulled you closer to him and you just fell asleep there. At peace with each other’s company. Feeling protected by one another.

(…)

It was party night. Everyone in the house was glammed up. Some of you are already drunk. And you were one of them. Alexa prepared you a gin tonic and god it was strong. You were laughing about everything and anything. Lando was a little drunk but you won over him. He found the drunk you so cute. And you looked so hot he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He found any occasion to touch you. Whenever.

The party was at the beach and started at sunset. You got there an hour later than expected. The music was so good. People looked so beautiful. You were all drunk. You were having fun just facing and fooling around with your friends.

You couldn't stop looking at Lando and how handsome and hot he looked in that shirt. You were driving yourself crazy by thinking of multiple ways to take his shirt off. And touch him. And kiss him.

Lando was loose. He was enjoying the evening very much. He danced with you and couldn’t help but hug you sometimes. Or touch you. He wanted to take off the yellow dress you had on. That color would look terrible on other people but oh god it was your color. It made your eyes shine so brightly. Make your smile beam. And your hair shine. He couldn’t stop looking at your lips wondering what flavour of gloss did you choose to wear today.

After a while a girl came towards him and started chatting with Lando. They were talking very stimulated. You could see her intentions. And you didn’t want to admit you were oh so jealous. Lando seemed to enjoy her company. That made anxiety creep you once more in your life.

And that was the moment you knew you couldn’t keep on pretending you didn’t love him. That was it. You were gonna tell him everything. And then you could run and hide and cry if he didn’t feel the same. But you needed to say it. To scream it. You felt desperate at the thought of once more losing him to another girl. Of not being brave and own your shit.

You walked towards them and interrupted their conversation.

“Um … excuse me. Didn’t want to interrupt but Lando I really need to talk to you in private asap” you clarified just looking at him desperate. And deep into his eyes.

He freaked out a little because your voice sounded so different than usual. He tried to keep calm. He nodded. “Sorry I gotta go” he said to the girl and grabbed your hand taking you two apart from the crowded site.

You got really anxious. You were scared but you knew you had to. He deserved to know as much as you deserved to express yourself.

He looked at you, grabbing your hands into his and stroking them gently. He could feel you were anxious.

“Lando… I’m scared of what I’m about to say but I need you to know…” you were struggling to find the correct words but your nervousness wasn’t helping. He tightened his grip into your hands to give you confidence. His heart was racing like crazy. He could feel his heart palpitations into his ears.

“I like you Lando. And not like just a friend. I am… I am in love with you. I’ve been secretly in love with you for years like I really want to take your shirt off with my teeth and have sex here in front of everyone I really do not care. I want you. To me you're the most handsome, most fun, most generous, most generous, and most everything. Please just tell me you feel the same. I'm so drunk I will cry for hours. I really really like you Lan” you basically spitted all of your thoughts to him. You were drunk and that was the best way you could express yourself right now.

He heard you. He heard you pretty clear. He felt his heart skip a beat. This was a dream. He dreamed of this so many nights. He couldn’t talk so he just grabbed your face and kissed you with all of his feelings into it. He kissed you desperately. Like his life depended on it. Because in some way it did. He couldn’t imagine a life without you. The kiss was deep and steamy at some point. Your hearts were racing and you were hot and agitated.

You finally knew how his lips tasted. You could die right there. You never felt this way. You couldn’t even think straight. Words couldn’t express what you felt either. You grabbed him by his shirt pulling him closely. You didn’t want to stop kissing him. You could stay like this forever.

He pulled apart from you slowly and softly. “Y/n I love you too. I’ve always did” he whispered into your lips. Your noses brushing each other so gently. You could feel his warm breath. His hands on your face. You smiled widely.

You should’ve done it way back.

Now you two need to kiss for this whole time you couldn’t until the end of your lives.

You heard your friends clapping and chanting for you both to finally be together. That made you laugh and look at them.

You couldn’t ask for a better group of friends.

And a better guy to spend life with.

You looked once more to each other. Knowing you were about to be the best life next to each other.

Forever.

——————————————————————————————

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[genderless-naper]

tattooed fingers

trafalgar law x alt!strawhat!reader

tw: slight choking, jealous law hehe

wc: 1.5k, lowercase intended !

a remark about his fingers might leave you feeling speechless

the crew was lively as usual traveling the seas on the sunny. everything was where it was meant to be except for one unknown variable: trafalgar law. the current alliance your captain accepted without much thought was questioned by all your crew mates. still they held hope in their captains decisions, and welcomed the unknown pirate on the ship. it was obvious he wasn’t much of an engager; especially when he gave blunt responses to any of the crew mates attempts of conversation.

instead he was an observer. specifically an observer of you. you stood out in the group of pirates. it was hard for him to avoid looking at you. your confident demeanor, your bold personality, and your style of clothes were all setting his attraction levels on an all time high.

he fought hard to push away the thought of your fishnets clinging to your thighs, and how he would rip them open to do unspeakable things to you. he tried to deny any sense of captivation, but when he sees your choker hugging your neck he becomes angered that it isn’t his hand choking you instead. his attempts to ignore you seemed impossible with the way your boots clanked against the deck boards. the strain it put on him to imagine how you two would sound with one of your legs held in the air and him in between.

at the end of the day it didn’t matter. you were a strawhat, so he did the best thing to make sure you stayed away from him.

he never responded to you. he never looked at you when you talked to him. he never addressed you when he talked to the group. he needed to make sure you didn’t get close to him so he wouldn’t fall for you more than he has. he buried his feelings inside him in hopes they would go away on their own.

during the day you decide to show off the new garter belt you were gifted to your crew. you were excited to finally open it up and try it on. the belt wrapped around your waist perfectly and connected with a section that hugged one of your thighs. you tightened it as you expressed your excitement to your crew. nico robin had gotten it for you knowing it would fit your wardrobe perfectly. your sense of style made her your biggest admirer (second to law). you thanked her with a big smile.

after cooping himself within the sunny the tattooed man surfaces to the deck solely for a refill of his coffee cup. during his coffee breaks he did his best to avoid you. he made the grave mistake of overhearing your conversation with nico robin about the garner belt. his eyes gazed over to your figure, and the leather belt wrapped around it. he couldn’t stop looking you up and down while fighting his feelings from resurfacing. he watched as you two laughed together effortlessly, and how she tighten the belt for you. she was dangerously close to you for his comfort.

after your laughing fit with the woman you finally saw law glaring down nico robin. after constant horrible interactions you’ve found yourself to heavily dislike the man standing near you. you crossed your arms as you spoke to him in annoyance, “can we help you? the kitchen is that way you caffeinated freak.” you pointed to the kitchen on the other side.

law snaps out of his thoughts. in an attempt to hide his emotions he responds without much thought, “so why exactly are you dressed so edgy?”

you rolled your eyes at the pure hypocrisy coming from him, “says the guy who has ‘death’ tattooed on his fingers on both hands. youre the most edgiest man i’ve ever met.”

law glances down at his fingers as a realization hits him. the reason he was so drawn to you was you two shared so many similarities. having nothing left to exchange with this man you turn back to nico robin and continue your conversation.

he spent the rest of the day trying to steal glances of you, but them just being ruined by you being so close to nico robin. he didn’t understand why you were so attached to her. if he couldnt have you then why should she?

he hated the way your conversations flowed so perfectly. how you could talk to her for hours and she would just admire you. he especially hated when you touched her arm while laughing at her joke. if he couldn’t experience those things when why could she?

it went on for the rest of the day. the two of you becoming closer and closer. the sharing of intimate platonic energy went well into the night as well.

the last thing that broke his patience completely was went she asked you if you’d like the stargaze with her. he looked at you in disbelief when you agreed excitedly. he expected you to reject the offer. a ting of jealousy crawled up his throat as you laid close to her to share a blanket. she pointed to the different constellations to show you.

“look there y/n” she points to the sky at a group of stars. you tried to follow her finger to the stars and she talks, “thats called the andromeda constellation.”

“robin i dont know what youre pointing at!” you pout slightly. nico robin takes a hold your face to help you look at the constellation properly as she connects the stars together, “do you see it now y/n?”

you nod fast, “its so pretty robin!”

the women smiled softly while starring at you, “its pretty just like you y/n.”

you blush slightly. before you had the chance to respond you hear footsteps approaching you both.

law had enough of seeing robin all over you. he could deal with you two talking and laughing together, but laying under the stars together while she called you pretty? thats where he drew the line.

he towered over you. your annoyance all starting to come back again from earlier in the day. you sat up ready to shoot him a sassy remark before you feel him grab your arm and pull you up. you try to tug your arm away, “let go of me trafalgar! what the hell do y-“

before you could process whats happening you find a blue bubble engulf you both. law activated his power to get you both away and somewhere more private.

he mumbled in annoyance not expecting you to hear, “i couldn’t stand watching her all over you like that.”

you raised a brow, “all over me? what are you talking about?? thats just how we are. not that its any if your business anyways!” you yank your arm back and cross it.

a fire lights in his eyes as he narrows them at you slowly, “so you’re both all over each other all the time..? are you serious y/n-ya?”

you were confused at his sudden acts. he was making you feel like you did something wrong. the memories of law ignoring you or being rude still fresh in your mind. you scoffed, “i don’t know what the hell you’re trying to say right now.”

law shot back without thinking, “i’m saying you need to stop that shit right now. i don’t want you cuddled up with someone watching the stars. i’m sick and tired of being in the background having to accept you be gifted stuff like this.” he loops a finger in the belt around your waist to pull you closer to him, “i like you too much for you to be tainted by these other people.”

you were shocked at the words coming out his mouth. he was probably just as shocked as you were, but the jealousy was overriding his chances of thinking logically. the thought of nico robin’s arm around your waist or the way she grabbed your face burned fresh in his mind. you pushed him away with annoyance setting back in, “all this caffeine is driving you insane.”

he shook his head, “you’re the one driving me insane y/n-ya” at this point he realized he couldn’t lock his thoughts away anymore. there was no going back, but did he really wanna go back when you stood in front of him looking so perfect?

he slowly raised his hand to your neck. he felt you tense as he brushes his fingertips against the skin above your choker. he stared at it with envy before he speaks in a commanding tone, “take this off.”

you hesitated to follow his instructions. you slowly open the clasp and take it off. the difference of having it off didn’t last long once it was replaced with law’s hand gripping your neck gently.

he smirked as he rubbed his thumb along a vein pressing on it slightly, “so what exactly were you saying about my tattooed fingers?”

[fleur-bbyy]

SINFUL SUMMER

it’s the first day of vacation and lucifer already can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you.

𓇼 lucifer x fem reader

𓇼 warnings: unprotected p in v sex, semi-public(?), creampie, reader wears a bikini, reader wears sunscreen for anti-aging purposes (pls wear your sunscreen!!!), sub reader, lil oral fixation if you squint real hard

𓇼 a/n: 1.6k words of my own fantasy. I was gonna post all the summer stuff together but i’m scared I won’t finish it all in time and was too excited for this one lol. also if it wasn’t clear, it’s one of those cabanas that’s covered on all sides and has curtains at the front, they’re in the jockey position lol, and it’s one of those lounge chairs where the back adjusts. (plz forgive me for not being that descriptive i was excited)

As the sun beams off his clothed back and his feet begin to burn from standing in the hot sand, Lucifer comes to a realization.

You are quite literally his worst nightmare.

Pretty in the face and so, so naive to any of his lustful advances. An innocent request for him to help you apply sunscreen to your back should be just that, innocent. It shouldn’t be so daunting or feel so inappropriate for a man as respected as he was. Scanning over your barely-clothed back as you rub the contents of the tube on your arms. His ruby eyes linger far too long on the dangerously thin fabric on your lower half. He wanted to tell you that your bikini left far too little to the imagination, but he shouldn’t have been imagining that anyway.

“You’re laying inside a covered cabana, you don’t need it.”

"Do you expect me to spend the whole day in here?" You turned to look at him, smiling as your hands began to run the spf over your collarbones. "Besides, the sun still reaches me. I don’t want my skin to be saggy and feel like leather when I’m older." Lucifer crosses his arms and mentally eye rolls: You’ve been hanging around Asmo too much. 

"Fine. Finish up everything else and then tell me what you need." You smile once more in victory and continue to cover your front with the lotion. Lucifer stands in the doorway, arms still crossed, a seemingly calm expression resting on his face. His eyes stayed transfixed on your body for the majority of the time, glancing over his shoulder once to see his brothers doing their own thing in the sea and snapping right back over to you as you bent over slightly to reach your legs. Your bikini bottoms riding up even further than before and exposing more of your skin. His eyes widening a bit more when he noticed the outline of your cunt peeking through the fabric, causing the air to feel a bit hotter and his swim trunks to tighten a little more around the crotch.

"Okay, need you now." you said, beginning to lie down on the chair and handing him the tube of sunscreen in the process, his fingers accidentally brushing yours as he grabbed it and he swears you let them linger on purpose. He stood over to the side of you and began to gather the lotion in his hand before you stopped him.

“Don’t be awkward. Sit over my legs.”

Lucifer paused after hearing you voice your request like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He lightly sighed and reluctantly moved to straddle your legs, his half chub barely a few centimeters away from your plump ass. Lucifer contemplated whether you knew what you were doing or not. You had to feel it; there’s no way you didn’t feel it prodding against your thigh as he began to smooth the lotion down your back. holding back a groan when you arched into his touch.

“How exactly does sitting like this help?”

“You’ll reach better. Besides, wouldn’t want you to throw your back out, old man.” You lightly laughed at your own joke and Lucifer rolled his eyes, hands moving to the center of your back. “You’re good at this, should be a masseur.”

He wasn’t able to respond, having to bite the inside of his cheek as you arched even more into him. Your ass dangerously close to his hardening cock. He paused to grab more sunscreen and was about to continue before you stopped him again.

“You missed a spot near my shoulders.”

He slowly leaned forward, relishing in the feeling of his clothed cock finally making contact with your ass but trying to avoid it at the same time. Using his legs to lightly hold himself above you and starting to cover the spot that he missed when he heard a soft moan escape from your lips and your hips push into him even more.

There’s no way you didn’t know what you were doing. There was absolutely no way you didn’t feel his hardened length pressed into you. His hands slowly dragged down your back, stopping at your waist and giving an experimental small roll of his hips into yours, feeling a glorious sensation when you moaned a bit louder. He continued to roll his hips against you, biting back small grunts and groans when you started to meet his thrusts with the roll of your own hips. One of Lucifer’s hands slowly traveling from your waist to the edge of your bikini bottoms, pulling them to the side and shivering at the sight of the strings of your arousal sticking to them. He slowed his hips to get a good look at your soaking cunt and ran his index finger up and down your slit.

“Do you want this?” He asked, fingers running over your sopping entrance and examining the way they shined with your essence. You frantically nodded your head, not trusting yourself to speak without getting too loud. “I need to hear you say it.”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself before whispering out a quick "yes." You felt him shuffle behind you and shortly after felt his tip prodding at your entrance. rubbing himself up and down your slit to gather your wetness before he slowly began to sink in. inch by inch with shallow thrusts.

“Ohh fuck.. that’s it. You feel too good.” Your toes curled and pussy gushed at his words. Allowing him to sink even further into you

He was big. Barely half way inside, and you already felt so full of him. grasping at whatever you could and beginning to roll your hips into him once more, eliciting a sharp hiss from the man.

“Need you to open up for me.” His breath was hot on your neck as he leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Can’t. You’re too big.”

“None of that. You can be good for me.” One of his hands positioned your hips up even more, giving him access to your neglected clit. “She can be good for me too.”

You moan when he begins circling your clit. Feeling your arousal drip down and lubricate his working finger. His thrusts starting to speed up and his free hand tracing up your spine to pull the string holding your bikini top together, giving him full access to your back. Everything coupled together gave your cunt to final push to open up completely. Moaning even louder when he finally pushes all the way in. Your whines and moans crescendoing to the point that Lucifer has to clamp a hand down over your mouth and pray that one of his brother’s didn’t hear anything.

“Naughty thing,” he began, sticking one of his slender fingers into your mouth and grinning when you immediately start to suck, “this is what you wanted the entire time, didn’t you? Wanted to rile me up and fuck you where anybody could walk in and see?”

Beads of sweat begin to gather on both of your faces from the summer’s heat and the intensity of the current activity. Some rolling down Lucifer’s face and landing in small droplets on your back that he lovingly wiped away after removing his fingers from your mouth.

“Are you going to be good and quiet for me?” You didn’t answer. Not trusting yourself to speak and worried you’d let out another loud whine instead.

“That just won’t do,” his thrusts slowed and he pulled his hand back from your aching clit, “answer me.”

“Yes. Yes I’ll be good. I promise.” You said through gritted teeth. Even with his agonizingly slow thrusts, the steady drag of his cock on your walls practically made you shiver. Feeling him hit every ridge as he pulled out and pushed back in.

“Then cum for me. Want to feel you.”

Before you could even try to start fucking yourself on him, he picked up the pace again. Going even faster and harder than before and causing your body to bounce up and down on the lounge chair. The grip on your left side becoming ironclad and his hand once again sneaking to rub expert circles on your clit. His heavy balls knocking his fingers every time he plunged into your heat.

Your orgasm comes soon after with a strangled moan. Burying your face in your hands to try and muffle yourself but to no avail. Lucifer also begins to gradually lose himself as he works you through your pleasure. The clenching and spasming of your cunt around him causes the fingers on your clit to fumble in rhythm and move sloppily. His grunts and groans gradually getting louder and his thrusts speeding up just a tad more before you finally feel that familiar warmth as he spills inside of you. Panting and biting his bottom lip to quiet himself.

The air in the cabana was still thick with sex as the two of you recovered. Finally looking over and noticing that the chair had moved at least a foot away from its original position and your tube of sunscreen had been leaking out onto the sand the entire time. Lucifer carefully pulled out of you and admired how his cum dripped from your pussy. Using two of his fingers to push any that had trickled out back into your spent hole before fixing your bottoms and tying your bikini top back to it’s original position. Finally adjusting himself and getting off of you after making sure you were alright.

“Are you going to stay here?” He asked, his voice quickly returning to its stern nature as he crossed his arms over his chest once again.

“Think so.” You turned your head to look over at him and propped yourself up on your arms, watching as he began to leave to check on the others. “Thank you, by the way.” He stopped in the entryway, glancing over at you with a grin and half-lidded eyes.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

[lelengerine]

pairing. jaemin x reader

synopsis. what do you do when your feelings for your best friend start becoming not-so-platonic anymore?

genre. childhood best friends to lovers au, just jaemin realizing his feelings, pls imagine them living in a small town near the beach 🙂‍↕️, gender neutral reader, lmk if there's anything that was missed!

wc. 1.2k words

notes. inspired by holyland - wave to earth! such a good song and i highly suggest reading this while it plays as bgm >< this won the poll i had up yesterday so yay! likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the sand as you and jaemin walked side by side, the rhythmic crash of waves the only sound filling the silence between you. the air was warm, a soft breeze tugging at your clothes, and your laughter echoed across the empty stretch of beach as you nudged him with your shoulder.

“come on, jaem, you’re still so slow,” you teased, jogging ahead a few steps, turning to face him with that playful grin he’d grown so fond of. you never changed, he thought. always light, always glowing, even when the rest of the world felt heavy.

jaemin’s steps slowed, and he watched as you spun around in the sand, your arms outstretched like a child, completely carefree. the sight of you bathed in the fading sunlight—hair tousled by the breeze, your face flushed from the sea air—did something to him. there was a pull, a weight pressing on his chest that he couldn’t shake. he stopped in his tracks, eyes tracing the curve of your smile, the way your laughter rang through the air, unburdened and effortless.

maybe i’ve been walking along with grief… can’t find the love within my heart.

how long had it been like this? how long had he been chasing after things that didn’t matter, only to realize that what he wanted most had been right beside him all along? the realization settled over him like a wave, gentle yet unrelenting, washing away the distractions he’d been clinging to. 

he was in love with you.

the thought hit him with a clarity that left him breathless. all those moments—sharing late-night snacks, lying under the stars, trading inside jokes that only the two of you understood—he hadn’t realized what they truly meant until now. jaemin’s chest tightened, a quiet fear gnawing at him. what if he’d already lost his chance? what if you didn’t feel the same way?

“jaemin?” your voice broke through his thoughts, a soft question laced with concern. you’d stopped spinning, eyes wide as you tilted your head at him. “you okay?”

he blinked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “yeah, i’m fine.” but even as he said it, the words felt heavy, like they didn’t belong to him.

you moved closer, the sand crunching under your feet. “you’re so weird today,” you murmured, a teasing lilt in your voice, but there was something more—something searching, like you knew there was more to his silence.

jaemin’s gaze drifted away from yours, back toward the horizon where the sun was sinking lower, its golden light reflecting off the water’s surface. he swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. how was he supposed to say it? how could he put into words everything that had been building inside him without unraveling the delicate balance of your friendship?

can you settle down my soul? and take me back to the days of old with you.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s just… i don’t know. being here makes me think about a lot of stuff.”

you raised a brow, folding your arms over your chest as you took a seat in the sand, motioning for him to join you. “stuff like what?”

jaemin hesitated, the weight of his confession hanging on the tip of his tongue. he dropped down beside you, his fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes in the sand. “stuff like… how things have changed. how i’ve changed.” his voice was quieter now, laced with uncertainty.

you didn’t say anything, just waited patiently, eyes locked on him, like you were giving him all the space he needed to figure out what he wanted to say. and maybe that’s why it was so hard—because you always knew him so well. you could see past his smiles, his jokes, even his silence.

i’m laying in the grass, a daydream in the sun… i’m back inside your peace.

he’d always thought that was enough—just being close to you, being your best friend, the person you turned to when the world felt too big or too lonely. but somewhere along the way, that had changed for him. being near you wasn’t enough anymore. he wanted more, craved it in a way that scared him.

“i’ve been thinking about us,” jaemin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder would make the truth too real. “about what we mean to each other.”

you tilted your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “we’re best friends, jaem. we’ve always been.”

he nodded, but his chest tightened. that was exactly it—best friends. the words felt too small, too limiting for what he felt. “i know. but… i think i’ve been lying to myself about what that means for a long time.”

your brow furrowed, confusion clouding your expression. “what do you mean?”

jaemin’s breath hitched, and he could feel his heart racing, the fear clawing at him again. but he couldn’t hide it anymore—not from you, not from himself. “i think i’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

the confession spilled out, unplanned and raw, leaving him feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way he’d never felt before. his eyes darted to yours, searching for any sign of how you might respond. would you laugh it off, tell him he was imagining things? or worse—would you pull away, leaving a gap between you that couldn’t be bridged again?

oh, holyland… watch your breeze take over me, just like we used to be.

but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t pull away. instead, your gaze softened, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. the sound of the ocean, the distant cries of seagulls, even the wind—everything fell silent as you stared at him, your lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“jaemin…” you finally whispered, your voice tender, unsure. “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

he laughed weakly, the tension easing just a little as he shrugged. “because i was scared, i guess. scared of losing you.”

a silence hung between you, but it wasn’t heavy—it was contemplative, like both of you were trying to find the right words in a sea of emotions that had been unspoken for too long.

let me float in your arms… so come back to me.

then, you reached for him, your fingers brushing his. the simple touch sent warmth through his entire body, a quiet reassurance that you weren’t pulling away. not this time.

“i’ve been waiting,” you admitted, a small, almost bashful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “waiting for you to say something. because i think… i’ve felt the same for a while too.”

his heart soared, a quiet joy settling into the spaces that had once been filled with doubt. he couldn’t help but smile—a real one this time—as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as the waves lapped at the shore behind you. the weight he’d been carrying for so long seemed to dissolve, leaving only the warmth of your embrace and the quiet certainty that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting the world in shades of pink and gold, jaemin knew with unwavering clarity that whatever came next, he was ready. as long as it was with you.

[1800-fight-me]

Love your writing :) Could you please do a story where reader/Aemonds wife gets captured and taken on a ship

Before Aemond of course comes to rescue his love

The Rogue Prince

Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Rating: M (Mature - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, implied smut

Word count: About 3.5k

Synopsis: Aemond Targaryen is loyal to his family and house above all, but what happens when his wife is captured and in mortal peril?

Author’s note: Thank you for this request! I hope you enjoy it!! Protective and possessive Aemond owns me... also I started writing this before I knew the plot of season two so the timeline of this fic doesn't make much sense but let's just pretend it does, okay? lol

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!

There was commotion in King’s Landing. Chaos. Terror. 

You were not within the safety of the Red Keep as you normally were, as you should be. 

There was so much screaming you couldn’t think straight. 

Alicent grabbed your hand, her other hand in Helena's and pulled you both forward. 

The crowd pushed and heaved and you yelled as your hand slipped from your mother in law’s. 

Pure terror shot down your spine as the push of the crowd led you away from them, away from your family by marriage, away from the King’s Guards, away from safety. 

You were lost in a sea of limbs and panic, your screams completely unheard over the cacophony of scared sounds. 

You couldn’t even determine the source of the commotion, you didn’t see it, only the after effect as you were now pushed down the streets of the city. 

Water dripped down your cheeks, and when you looked up, the sky was clear. You continued to run with the crowd, in order to avoid being knocked over and trampled. 

You lifted a hand to your face, and realized you were crying. 

Another hand grabbed yours, and you gasped in relief, as you were harshly pulled to the side and into an alley. 

Your gasping breaths slowed as the crowd no longer threatened to crush you. 

You clenched your jaw and steeled your resolve as you realized the person who pulled you to safety was a stranger with a predatory gleam in his eyes. 

You lifted your chin and yanked your hand out of his. 

“Thank you for the assistance, kind sir, but I must get going. My family is expecting me,” you said firmly. 

A hateful chuckle came from the darkness behind you. 

You whirled around and saw two malicious looking men, behind them in the darkness there were two young women sitting on the ground with their hands and legs bound and gags in their mouths. There was fear unlike any you’d ever known in their eyes. 

That same fear now dripped down your spine, but you couldn’t give into it, instead you steeled your spine. 

“How much do you think we can get for this one?” The shorter man sneered. 

You thought of how your husband spoke to his enemies and tried to emulate that same haughty tone as you looked down your nose at them.

“I am a Targaryen. Return-“

”But you don’t got silver hair,” one of the men blurted out. 

You wrinkled your nose, ever the royal, and said, “I am the wife of Prince Aemond Targaryen. Return me to the Red Keep safely and I will make it certain you are rewarded for your goodwill.” 

The men’s smiles grew greedy. 

“Imagine how much we can get in ransom,” the one behind you muttered. 

“That would be an incredibly stupid course of action. The Prince is a viciously protective man and would surely kill any who attempt to kidnap me. He once broke a man’s arm for grabbing me in the halls of the Red Keep. Another time he broke a man’s nose for looking at me too long. It is in your best interest to leave me be,” you said sternly. 

The shorter one had the sense to look scared, but the bigger one, the scarier one, looked only overconfident. 

“The One Eyed Prince is not in King’s Landing, is he? I hear he is far away tending to the ongoing war within his house,” he said as he narrowed his eyes at you. 

You gulped. 

“He rides the largest dragon in the world, it would be a quick thing for him to be here to incinerate you all,” you said, your confident tone wavering slightly. 

“He’s not here now,” the one behind you said, and before you could look back at him there was pain as something hit you in the side of the head and the world turned black as you fell. 

You were floating on a sea of fire, the motion of the waves of flame rocking you back and forth, the gentleness bringing you a sense of peace and reassurance you had not felt since your husband mounted his dragon and flew off to war. 

The sky cracked open and rain poured as lightning flashed. But the flames you swam in remained strong, boosted you up, and as a bolt of lightning flashed towards you in slow motion, you held your hand up and the waves of fire surrounded you, protecting you from danger.

As you resurfaced you pointed your finger at the thundercloud and the fire shot like an arrow and decimated it. 

Someone shook your shoulder and as you woke, your body still rocked back and forth with waves, only furthering your disorientation as you found yourself  somewhere completely foreign. 

“Aemond?” You mumbled as nausea threatened to overcome you. 

“Princess,” a female voice said and you cracked your eyes open to find yourself in a fully wooden room with two women. They both laid on the floor in the tiny room, same as you. 

“Where am I?” You asked bewildered. Your head pounded and as you reached your hand and touched the side of it, you felt a tender bruise and hissed in pain. 

“Princess, don’t you remember? We were captured,” the other woman said. 

It all came rushing back to you and you pressed your lips together to avoid vomiting. 

“Y-yes, where are we?” 

“Somewhere in the middle of the sea,” the younger woman said quietly, her tone distraught. 

You were on a ship, shoved in a small room, surely in the hull, that had been transformed into a temporary dungeon you discovered as you stood, losing your balance for a moment, and attempted to open the locked door. 

“We already tried that,” the one with the dark hair said. 

You sighed. “Of course you did.” 

“How long have we been in here?” You asked, panic filling your chest. 

“My guess is a day and a half,” the younger woman said. 

You sank to your knees and allowed the tears to fill your eyes as the despair hit. 

You later learned that the names of the women you were trapped with were Marrion and Eliza. They were both as terrified as you, but managed to learn as much as they could about the men who held you, which they relayed to you in hushed tones for fear of the guard outside the door overhearing. 

“Is it true that your husband will come to rescue you?” Eliza asked hopefully. 

You pressed your lips together. “Yes, but who knows how long it will take him to learn of my capture, to find me?” 

Both the women looked down in dismay. 

You knew that Aemond would abandon his war, his family, his life for you. You knew he would fight, would bleed, would die for you. Such was his love and devotion to his wife, but his family knew that as well, and a small voice in the back of your head worried and warned you that perhaps his scheming grandsire would prevent word of your predicament to be sent to your husband. 

You wondered if you prayed to Vhagar if she would hear it and lead your husband to you, she was practically a goddess of war in her own right. You didn’t believe in any of the other gods your husband and his family worshiped.

“We need to make our own plan in the meantime,” you said firmly and they nodded. 

You lifted your skirt and pulled out the sapphire embedded dagger strapped to your thigh that your husband gifted you on your name day. 

Your companions had watched the men’s patterns before you awoke, and you based your plan off that. Listening to your husband and offering him support taught you a decent amount about strategy, and hours of training with him had taught you self defense skills as well, and it was time to put both to use, this time with you having the element of surprise, not the horrible men who stole you. 

The next day, when the guard unlocked and opened the door that kept your prisoner, you were prepared to charm and simper, but the man smiled at you in a way that made your stomach sink, and threw a dress at you. 

“The captain demands your presence, you have ten minutes to ready yourself,” he said with another lingering look before turning and slamming the door shut again. The lock was loud as it was clicked back into place. 

“Well that makes things a bit easier,” you said and both women laughed in shock with you before they helped you make yourself look more presentable. 

As you made your way towards the captain’s office, the pirates aboard the ship stared and sneered. You blinked against the brightness of the sun as it glittered over the blue sea. There was no sight of land that you could see, nothing but depthless ocean, no option for escape but a watery grave. 

Your hopes of an easy getaway were dashed, you had no idea how long you would be forced to remain on this ship until it reached land and you could enact your strategy for release. 

There was also no sight of Vhagar, no dragon roar in the winds, no dashing husband with a sword in hand, no one to save you. 

Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

The captain grinned at you, and you held in your grimace as you followed him into the room he led you to. 

There was a table in the center of the room, food laden upon it, and your stomach growled in protest. 

He chuckled at the sound, “Please, eat as much as you desire.” 

He sat across the table from you and you waited until he filled his plate and took a few bites, before you tore into the food before you, uncaring of being ladylike due to the feeling of starvation. 

“I hear you are a princess,” the man said and you looked up at him as you used your napkin to wipe your mouth. 

“Your men stole me from my wedded family,” you said. 

“The Targaryens,” he said. 

You nodded, unable to withhold your glare. 

“They’re not my men, in case you are interested, just men who sell me goods that make me gold,” he drawled and you resisted the urge to slap him. 

“I am not an item to be bartered and sold, I am the wife of Aemond Targaryen and you will release me safely or my dragon will burn you and your entire operation to the ground,” you said, softly but with passion. 

He had the gall to laugh at you. 

You gritted your teeth and attempted to quell your temper, but your fiery temperament was difficult to leash, it was what attracted your husband to you in the first place. 

“You’re a hateful bastard,” you spat. 

He laughed again, “Guilty as charged. Princess, when we reach our destination across the sea, your husband’s family will be contacted and ransom will be posted. My crew and I will get our money and you will be returned home.”

You glared, wishing your look could kill. Your hand inched up your leg, grazing the sheathed dagger hidden under your skirts that hadn’t been found and confiscated during your capture. 

Pirates began screaming and then there was an earth shattering roar. 

You smirked. 

He pulled out his sword and pointed it at you and rested the tip against your throat. 

“You will die for this,” you purred. 

“Stay put,” he said as he then stood and walked past you to the door. 

As he opened the door, there was the most glorious sight to behold. Vaghar cast a shadow over the ship large enough it was nearly dark as night. Aemond’s silver hair shined as he climbed down a rope from her saddle and landed on the ship, his sword out and began slaughtering. 

“Targaryen,” the captain yelled as he stepped out and stood on the bannister, looking down as your husband cut down his men. 

You stood and quietly slipped your dagger from its sheath as you crept behind the captain. 

“Where is my wife?” Aemond bellowed. 

Heat filled you in response to his presence, his rage. 

The captain opened his mouth to respond when a blade pierced the back of his neck, pushed through, and broke through on the other side of his throat, before the dagger was withdrawn. Red splattered as he choked on his own blood, the only sounds of his surprise. 

He turned around to look at his attacker and you gave him a feral grin. 

“I told you that you and your entire ship would burn,” you said sweetly before you pushed him over the railing, ignoring the sound and sight of his crippled body on the wood as you looked up at your Aemond. 

The fighting had indeed paused as all were shocked by the death of the captain. 

“I am here,” you said, blood spattered and filled with relief. 

Aemond released a sigh of relief and gave you a feral grin. 

“Come to me,” he said as his sword clashed with another, the men regaining their wits and attempting to kill him once more. 

Everything in you wanted to yield to his command, to run to him, to be in his arms, but you had one more task to complete. 

“In a minute,” you called out as you took off running back towards the cell you were kept in. As you looked back, you saw the confused quizzical look he threw at you as he continued to stab and end the lives of the men who stole you from him. 

You raced down the hallway, having memorized the way, and saw the guard as he unlocked and opened the door where your companions were kept. 

You stabbed him in the back, and ripped your dagger out, so when he turned around in surprise, you stabbed him again in the heart. 

You yanked your dagger from him as you looked at the women, and yelled, “Follow me!” 

You ran back from the belly of the ship to the safety of your dragon. But as soon as you were out in the open and saw him again, you realized he was in trouble. 

He was the most skilled fighter, but he was overwhelmed by numbers. You threw your dagger at a man about to stab him in the back, and it found its home in the enemy's forehead.

You then picked up a sword off a deceased body and attempted to fight, but the sword was quickly knocked from your hands.  

Your foe held his sword to your throat and you huffed in frustration. 

Marrion and Eliza hid behind you, and at least eight men stood between you and Aemond. 

“Enough,” the man who held your life in his hands yelled. 

The fighting stopped and Aemond’s gaze met yours across the ship. Fire gleamed in his eye, blood coated his hands, splattered across his clothing, his handsome face, his silver hair. He was a god of vengeance, your protector, the bearer of your heart and soul. 

“Return my wife to me,” he snarled. 

“We outnumber you, yield,” the man closest to him said through gritted teeth. 

“I do believe you are forgetting something,” Aemond said with a smirk and Vhagar roared loud enough to rock the boat. 

You huffed a laugh. 

The men took a step back from your husband, shaking in their boots. 

Aemond held his hand out to you, you looked back to the man who threatened you, and with a sigh he lowered his sword from your throat. You ran into Aemond’s embrace, he pulled you close with one arm even as he continued to hold his sword up against the men. 

The other two women followed you, and hid behind the two of you. 

“My love,” he murmured, “Climb aboard Vhagar and lead your companions to do the same. I will be there momentarily.”

You pressed a kiss to his blood smattered cheek and did as he ordered. You climbed the rope that led you to Vhagar’s saddle, and as you got settled, you assisted the others in doing the same. 

Aemond continued his stand off with the men who remained. When one jumped forward, attempting to attack, he unleashed himself. 

The opponents were no match for your dragon, despite their numbers, and Aemond slayed as many as he could, before grabbing onto the rope. 

With words in High Valyrian dripping from his tongue, he ordered his dragon to fly, taking him higher and away from the men who attempted to take you from him. 

Only moments passed, and then he yelled, “Dracarys.” 

Liquid fire encompassed the pirate ship and it burned just as you predicted it would. 

You watched the ship, the men on it, burn to ashes before sinking into the ocean as Aemond climbed atop Vhagar’s saddle and situated himself behind you, wrapping his arms around you, the other two women behind him. 

“Let’s go home, my love,” he said in your ear, gently and reassuring. 

You nodded, sinking into his embrace, and only tearing your eyes from the wreckage when it sunk beneath the watery depths. 

The return to King’s Landing was quick, and trusted guards returned the women with you safely to their homes, but not before you offered them jobs in the Red Keep, which they tearfully accepted. Descriptions were given of the men that sold you to the pirates, and you knew they would be dead by nightfall. f

Then, your husband led you to the small council chambers, you walked in feeling bashful, but he strutted in, led you to sit as he stood behind you, one hand on the back of your chair the other on your shoulder. 

“Aemond!” His mother exclaimed. 

He ignored her and instead glared at his grandsire. 

“Why was I not properly informed that my wife had been stolen,” he growled. 

“You left your post,” Otto replied. 

“I don’t give a shit about my post. My wife was in danger. Days went by, days that she was no longer in your protection as you had promised,” he said, his voice raised. 

“Aemond, we were doing everything we could to get her back,” Alicent attempted to soothe. 

“Not enough,” Aemond said through gritted teeth. 

“It was a calculated decision to not inform you, the hope was that we would have her back safety before you discovered that she was ever gone-“

”You calculated wrong.” Aemond said, his voice low and dark, the promise of violence so strong that you looked back at him and placed your hand atop his own. 

“Aemond, I am fine, I am safe,” you reassured. 

He glanced down at you, the words seeming to smooth some of the jagged panic inside him.

“And we are so grateful that you are,” Alicent replied. 

Aemond looked back up. 

“We need you to return, you and Vhagar are essential-“ 

“Fuck that,” Aemond said as he tugged on your hand, pulling you up out of your chair and by his side as he turned to leave. 

“Aemond!” Alicent protested. 

“My wife will stay by my side,” Aemond announced as you both exited the room. 

”My love?” You asked, breathless as he walked swiftly through the halls of the Red Keep, keeping you with him. 

“I will return to the war efforts on the morrow and you will come with me, do you understand? I cannot breathe when you are not near me. I cannot breathe when you are not safely in my arms. I cannot- “ 

“Aemond, look at me,” you said gently as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 

You had pulled him to a stop right in front of your chambers, they had gone unused since you wed him as he had immediately moved you into his own. 

His breathing was ragged, panic still threatening to pull him under. 

“You saved me. I am here. And I will stay by your side always, if that is what you desire,” you said softly but passionately. 

His lips crashed into yours. 

His grip was tight as he pulled you against the hard planes of his body. 

Your heart soared as his passion threatened to consume you. The waves of his fiery passion threatened to pull you under as his tongue tangled with yours and he moved, leading you to step back until your back hit the door and he pressed you against it. His hands roved from gripping your hips, one grazing the underside of your breast, the other caressing the side of your throat. 

He pulled his lips from yours long enough to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out, “Always?” 

“Always,” you promised as you pulled his lips back to yours. 

His hand reached the handle of the door behind you, and he guided you into the room. He spent the night proving his devotion to you, imprinting himself on and inside your body, giving you pleasure of unparalleled heights. 

And the next morning, your dragon kept his promise of always, and brought you with him, holding you tight and close on Vhagar’s back as he returned to wage war against his foes. 

[norris55s]

the summer i turned pretty - charles leclerc & arthur leclerc

a reader x charles leclerc & arthur leclerc love triangle, pt. 2

pt. 1

warnings: none other than angst?

a/n: a million years later here is part 2 but it’s not over ladies and gentlemen! i hope it doesn’t suck lol. part 3 will come. also i’ve now added charlotte siné as the fc for practical purposes!

————————————————————————

Day 4

————————————————————————

As I opened the door, terrified at who I was going to see behind it, I met Charles’ bloodshot eyes staring daggers into mine.

“Y/N, let’s talk, please. I screwed up, but let me explain,” he quickly said before I could even mutter a word.

I was still as speechless as I had been last night. Without a word, I moved aside to let him in my room, but he shook his head and insisted on talking to me at the beach. I just obliged, trying my best to be quiet around the house so as to not wake anyone up.

As soon as we arrived on the shore, Charles invited me to sit down and I once again just obliged. My heart was pounding on my ears and I felt like it would jump out of my body at any second.

“I feel like I should start at the beginning,” Charles said, while I looked to the sea instead of looking at him.

“I’ve always loved you. There has always been something about you that comforts me and makes me happy. I just didn’t realize how deep it went until last summer, when I realized that you kissing Antoine ruined the entire season for me.”

I tried to recall any reaction from Charles when I hooked up with Antoine last year that could’ve been a sign, but I found nothing in my memories. I was too busy sulking over the fact that he didn’t and would never like me, but I had been proved wrong 365 days later. The words were in my head but they didn’t make sense. Why would Charles Leclerc like me, much less love me?

“I’ve tried to avoid it, I’ve tried to think nothing of it, I’ve tried to deny it and it’s been no use.”

The irony of me doing the same thing for years was not lost on me. How I have pined for years not realizing he spent some of that time feeling the same way was borderline funny.

“Will you please look at me?” Charles asked with a hint of desperation in his voice, making it impossible for me to deny his request even if I knew any resolve or strength I had left in me would evaporate the minute my eyes met his.

The butterflies in my stomach felt like a swarm of wasps, and I’m sure the blush in my face evidenced it. Charles’ green eyes, the object of all my hidden wishes for as long as I could recall, stared into mine looking to decipher my emotions.

I wished I could say he found nothing but love, but in between all those beautiful feelings of loving and being loved in return, I could still sense a wretched feeling of disappointment.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” a stronger voice than expected called him out. All this time he had to know I felt the same way, but he let me believe there wasn’t a chance in hell he could care about me beyond a friendship.

“It took me too long to even understand it. Even then, I couldn’t justify changing your life on a crush, or hurt you and ruin it all. I still don’t know if I can justify it, but I know I can’t stand it anymore. I love you and I’m done pretending I don’t, or that you don’t love me too.”

When I searched into his eyes, all I could find was sincerity. And it was enough for me to jump into the deep end, leaning closer to him in hopes he would initiate the kiss I’ve desperately wanted for far too much time.

He granted my wishes, placing both of his hands on my neck to connect our lips. It was just like I imagined it.

Soft, passionate, unrushed, warm. I felt the fireworks that everyone speaks of go off in my head, and I just knew Charles felt them too.

As we pulled away to breathe, struggling to even think of ever separating me from him ever again, Charles smiled brightly.

“Can you say you love me too, mon cœur?” he asked so prettily I could coo at him.

“I love you, Charles Leclerc,” I obliged, because how could I say no to him?

“And I love you, Y/N L/N,” he replied, smiling even bigger, and kissing me even better.

Our bubble of a newfound love lasted a while, but was eventually meant to break when I received a text from Arthur.

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The conversation about Arthur with Charles wasn’t the hard part at all. The older brother brushed the kiss off as a drunken mistake, and was a little too confident on who my choice would be.

The conversation about Charles with Arthur would be the hard part, and I didn’t even have time to settle down in my bed after the rollercoaster of emotions I had just gone through when Arthur barged in.

He looked happy to see me, and it broke my heart.

In trying to find the words to say I couldn’t be with him, and before I could mutter them, he hugged me.

“I’ve been trying to find you all this time, where have you been chérie?” Arthur smiled, but it quickly faded once he realized my energy wasn’t the same.

“Arthur…”

“Chérie, don’t say it was a mistake because you know it wasn’t. Fuck my brother, you know that this is right.”

“I’m so sorry…” I began and pushed back further away from him, as if my next words would hurt him any less because of it. “Charles and I spoke, and we have realized our feelings for each other…” I looked down, cowardly, unable to face his reaction. “You know I’ve loved him forever and I am just so sorry for leading you on.”

Like it always happened between us, I didn’t have to look at him, and he didn’t have to say anything. I just knew that we were done.

He stormed out of the room.

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charles_leclerc added to his stories

y/ninstagram added to her close friends stories

arthur_leclerc added to his stories

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[unhinged-bratty-boy]

Dabi - sad headcanons

This is my first time writing anything, be gentle with me 🙏🏻

It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Just a bored glance while killing time in the a convenience store as he waited for his contact to show. But then you walked in.

At first, he didn’t think much of it - just another face in the endless sea of strangers. But something about you made him pause. The way you casually brushed hair from your face while scanning shelves, the soft hum of a song under your breath, completely unaware of the world around you. You were normal. Unshattered. Alive.

His sharp, turquoise eyes narrowed, lingering longer than they should’ve. He blamed it on curiosity. Something about you felt warm in a way he hadn’t experienced in years - like standing too close to a hearth after a lifetime of cold. It made him uncomfortable. Made him angry.

He should’ve walked away. He didn’t.

Dabi followed you out of the store without even realizing it. At first, it was instinct - silent footsteps slipping through the dark alleys like a shadow as he followed. He told himself he just wanted to see where you lived. Just a quick glance, nothing more.

This one time turned into a shady routine for him. He had to know more.

Within days, he knew your routine - when you left for work, when you returned, where you shopped. He mapped out the weakest points of your flat with practiced efficiency - windows that didn’t lock quite right, a back door that stuck if you didn’t shove it hard enough. Old habits. Necessary. Just in case.

At night, he watched the soft glow of your apartment lights from across the street, imagining what your life must be like on the inside. Warm, ordinary, safe. He hated how much he wanted it.

One day, when he saw you struggling with heavy grocery bags, the opportunity was too perfect to pass up. He shoved his hands deep into his material pants pockets, masking the nervous twitch of his fingers.

"Need a hand?" His voice was rough, casual - but there was something too sharp in his gaze, too focused.

You hesitated for just a moment before offering a grateful smile that hit him like a punch to the chest.

"Thank you! These bags are killing me."

He took them without another word, pretending the weight didn’t bother him. He could feel your eyes on him, curious, a little suspicious but not wary - not yet.

As you walked together, you talked - about nothing, really. The weather, the annoying store line, small, inconsequential things. But every word out of your mouth felt like oxygen to a man used to suffocating.

When you unlocked your door and turned back to him, smiling that same soft, trusting smile, he swore he felt his ruined heart stutter.

"Thanks again... um...?" you prompted, clearly expecting a name.

For a split second, he considered giving his real name - Touya - but killed the thought immediately. Too dangerous. Too personal.

"Dabi," he said instead, voice low, almost daring you to question it.

"Weird name," you said playfully, completely unfazed. How sweet you didn't recognise his villain name. "But thanks, Dabi. I really appreciate it."

Dabi always got what he wanted. He was ruthless, cunning, relentless. He should’ve burned this weakness out of himself the moment he realized what was happening. But he couldn't. He wanted you. All of you. And he was about to make you his.

This was how you two started seeing each other.

Dabi never calls your flat a home. The word sticks in his throat like ash. Home was burned away years ago, leaving only the cold, empty shell of survival. The apartment he crushes in from time to time is just a place where he exists, not where he belongs.

He lives in your home like a visitor overstaying his welcome. His clothes stay packed in a small, battered duffel bag shoved under the bed. “It’s just easier this way,” he mutters when you ask why he never uses the closet.

No matter how much he scrubs his skin, the faint scent of burning flesh never fades. He can see you notice but pretends he doesn’t. It makes him feel disgusted with his own self. It makes him feel guilty because you deserve much better. When you light scented candles or spray room freshener, he flinches inwardly, convinced you’re trying to mask the stench of him.

Every time he touches you, it feels like a silent goodbye. His hands are scarred and trembling, his grip tight like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. When he holds you, it’s never soft - it’s desperate, bruising, clinging. He needs the reminder that you’re real, that he’s still here, that he hasn’t burned you away yet.

He doesn’t say “I love you” because he thinks it’s a lie. People like him can’t love - not properly. Not in ways that don’t hurt. But sometimes, late at night when he thinks you’re asleep, he’ll trace your features with the lightest touch, memorizing every line like he’s carving you into his memory - for when you’re gone.

He expects you to leave. He knows you will, eventually. Everyone does. He can’t stop his sharp tongue or bitter jabs when he feels too close - it’s his defense mechanism. If you get too close, you might see him for what he really is - broken, twisted, beyond saving. Better that you leave on your terms than pity him.

Dabi barely sleeps. On good nights, he dozes fitfully beside you, waking at every small noise like he’s still being hunted. On bad nights, he sits by the window until dawn, smoking one cigarette after another, eyes fixed on your soft, relaxed features as you're deep in your slumber.

Late at night, when the world is still, you often find him standing at the window, his eyes tired, staring into the endless dark. His cigarette burns low between scarred fingers, ash scattering unnoticed, staining your floor. "Touya, come back to bed," you ask, improving your silky nightgown around yourself. He doesn’t turn around. His voice is rough, distant, "Tsk. Don't call me Touya. He is long dead."

On his worst days, he believes he deserves the pain. He’ll disappear without a word, returning with fresh burns hidden beneath his sleeves, the acrid smell of charred skin lingering around him. You know better than to ask where he’s been - his hollow eyes tell you everything you need to know.

Dabi doesn’t believe in a future - not for himself. The idea of living a long, peaceful life feels like a cruel joke. He talks about “when” he has to leave, never “if.” He’s already made peace with the fact that whatever this is - you and him - won’t last. Nothing ever does.

He keeps insignificant things - crumbled notes you left on the fridge, your old scarf that still smells faintly of your perfume, a broken hairclip. He stashes them in a small, dented box under his bed in the LOV hideout. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he pulls the box out and runs his fingers over the keepsakes, pretending, for a few minutes, that he’s someone worth remembering.

When you fight, Dabi lashes out like a wounded animal, sharp and cruel. His words are designed to hurt because he expects you to leave anyway - better to make you hate him than to watch you drift away. But afterward, he’s consumed by guilt, curling into himself like a burned-out ember.

He can’t say sorry - not with words at least. But after a fight, you’ll find your favorite snacks mysteriously restocked, the blanket you love folded neatly on the couch, a worn apology scrawled on a crumpled scrap of paper left where you can find it. He’s trying - in the only ways he knows how.

Dabi isn’t someone meant for love - but God, how he wants it. He knows he’ll never deserve you, that this life he’s stumbled into is a borrowed dream destined to shatter. But for now - for however long this fragile, imperfect thing lasts - he’ll hold on with both hands, knowing that in the end, he’ll be the one left burning.

[certifiablyinsanez]

Stolas has probably spent the majority of his life wishing he was dead. He sang to his little daughter “when I’m gone you’ll be okay”. He’s made it clear that he places little value on his life. Before Blitz arrived in his life, he was probably hanging on by a frayed thread, his daughter being the only thing keeping him alive. But with his certainty that his daughter hates him, what does he have to live for? As someone who was passively suicidal for 13 years, I can say definitively that it isn’t enough to only stay because of the people you love. The suffering is just too great. The reasons someone stays alive are often unromantic, minute, and seemingly insignificant. More often than not, you’re only still alive because you can’t actually make yourself do the deed. You wait for the right day, to do it in the right way and the stars just never align to make it happen. Your days blend together in a haze of misery with tiny seeds of hope sprinkled here and there, and then one day you realize that maybe you do want to live. You never see it coming. You never plan for it or expect it to happen, or know when it’ll arrive. Blitz is that reason, that blazing light in an endless darkness. The shooting star that burst through a night sky as dark as pitch. The reason to live that surprised Stolas with how much fire it put back in his life, how much joy, how much light, even when it was causing him pain. Stolas Goetia, who has spent his whole life surrounded by glittering jewels and castle walls, able to summon the skies of stars and suns, had no light in his life until Blitz arrived. Blitz is the light.

Blitz has had to be stone for most of his life. In his childhood he had to brace his little spirit against all the odds, because he was an imp who had weird dreams, and was surrounded by people who had no faith in him. And the few people that loved him were lost to him. With no home and no family or friends, one can only imagine how hard his life was for many years after that. He had to steel himself, become hard and heartless just to get by. He still had dreams and ambitions but remained deeply lonely for many years. “You tried the solo act, it didn’t work out very well.” He’s a wounded dog that doesn’t know why he bites. He’s convinced he’s a walking curse, that he does nothing but hurt and leave misery in his wake. And because of all this, he didn’t bother trying. He allowed himself to take and leave nothing behind. He allowed himself to hurt because whether he tries or not doesn’t matter because the end result is always the same. Stolas was another thread in his tragic tapestry, but his thread was bright gold in a sea of beige. Blitz tried to ignore the thread. What’s one more? But it shimmered too brightly. It was too beautiful, too rare, too exquisite to disregard. His heart, sick and small, was removed in a strange twist of fate, and Stolas put himself in the hole that was left behind, giving parts of his own heart that overflows. Stolas is his heart.