#it was totally worth it to get to here! now I get to meet all of you guys!

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Enhypen and their 'oh' moment

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘so happy you’re willing to write for other groups 💞 my request is enhypen members falling in love / realizing they’re falling in love’

Jungwon Like most group leaders, he carries a lot on his shoulders. He probably feels that he can’t share that responsibility with anyone else from time to time. Still, he finds himself opening up about his stresses one night and he lets you comfort him. He likes to be strong for everyone else and wants to appear unaffected, but he feels safe appearing affected in front of you because you’re so gentle about it. It’s when he’s got his head in your lap after he unloads all his worries that he has his little ‘oh’ moment.

Heesung He might come off as reserved and even a little bit cold at first (someone please prove me wrong though!!). You might even think he doesn’t like you very much because he’s perhaps not as outwardly expressive as others. But trust that he has a soft spot for you. He might not let some of the younger members get away with something, but you can right in front of him and he’ll never say a word. If one of the younger members throws a fit about this preferential treatment, he’ll blink a few times and think, ‘huh. That’s weird.’ Largely unaffected by this revelation though.

Jay I think he’d be one of those that knows pretty early on that he’s falling. Within the first few times he meets you, he recognizes what’s happening in slow motion, so there’s no big ‘oh’ moment. Just a series of little confirmations along the way that his assumption was correct. You do the slightest, most monotonous thing and he thinks. ‘Yep, I think I’m in love.’ It’s not this big, scary feeling like some of the other members might experience, but rather a comforting feeling to fall.

Jake Now he might be shocked. Say you aren’t even dating but you share some mutual friends. He sees you playing with Layla in the other room and one of his group members calls him out for his staring, and maybe even calls him ‘lovesick’. Totally flabbergasted because what do you mean?? It’s not like that?? His group members’ faces tell him everything he needs to know - which is that he’s a blind idiot (affectionate).

Sunghoon Ok, he realizes because he’s jealous. Regardless of whether you are dating or not, he’ll see someone get way too close to you, or hear someone talk about how they’re going to ask you out, and he’s panicking!! Cannot determine right away why he’s panicking because he’d like to think he’s not a very possessive person. But here we are. The ‘oh’ moment is when he realizes he perked up as soon as your attention was back on him. Might just confess in a roundabout way right then, like, “don’t pay attention to anyone else, okay? Only me!” A big baby.

Sunoo lol he says he hates annoying things. Then lets you annoy him continuously. Doesn’t say a word when you poke his cheek or boop his nose. Doesn’t complain when you keep him up with your yapping in the middle of the night. Doesn’t think the first thing of bailing on any other plans because you’re bored. This will be a super slow realization, but when it finally does hit him, it’s because HE said he missed you and you laugh and say, “but we’re constantly together!” ‘Oh’ indeed.

Niki To no one’s surprise, Niki has maknae privileges and totally milks it for all it’s worth. He’s totally fine with being babied by his members. He’s used to being protected, but feels rather protective of you. Might even speak up to his hyungs if they mess with you too much, to which they’ll tease him about. Thing is, he might start swinging on them if they don’t stop!! The thought that it’s anymore than friends doesn’t compute for him until it’s spelled out for him by one of his group members, probably in a sarcastic way - like, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop messing with your girl.” Never occurred to him that you could be his until that moment.

[suffarustuffaru]

Fate is on your side today! Meet Otto Suwen, a simple man with the simple dream of opening his own store, while the only obstacle in his path is fate hating him so bad that his luck needs to take a shit on him constantly. But the real question is: is his misfortune really just bad luck, or is it his own actions getting in his way too? The answer is yes. Oops Swein, a “simple” man, only has two modes: so sweet you forget how annoying he is, and so annoying you remember why fate hates him. Wielding green hand-me-downs from his Astrea-loving grandpa and a punchable smile, Otter ping pongs between everything because he is only straightforward once in a blue moon. Need help running from danger? Ottoto is here to save the day, but not because he likes you or anything! He was just there too, so he saved you as a supplement to saving himself! Need some money? Sure, this money totally isn’t even his anyway! Need some nudging to get out of your shell? Certainly! Being in a near death experience in front of you should do the trick to help you open up, because he already knows you’re wrapped around his finger! Need help you didn’t even ask for? Of course! He’s going to end all your enemies now. What, you want him to tell you his backstory? It’s easy, he’ll just cut out the part where he was exiled, there’s an assassination hit on him, and that time he accidentally burnt down a bar, and that other time some people accidentally fell off a cliff he was conveniently on! Is it walking in darkness, or purposefully turning away from the light? To Otter, it’s basically the same thing, he’ll just deny that the latter exists to clear his hands yet simultaneously wallow in guilt-not-guilt. His dream is only simple because everyone who loves him expects him to fail—not only because his luck shits on him, but also because he has every addiction in the book except for weed because his little bro already got that one. So don’t even worry about it! Ottobro is a simple, normal guy who is definitely fully honest in his evaluations of himself, has self-worth that isn’t defined by his laundry list of vices, and consistently Does Not require mental gymnastics to keep himself deceptively functional. Just remember: when he says he’s bad, he’s good, and when he says he’s good, he’s bad. When you write him being good, always remember he can and will be worse. When you write him being bad, always remember that he usually has good intent that will then be warped by his laundry list of justifications. Tis the Swain way—love is business, business is life, and being warm and calculated is how one shows affection. Anyway, his theme song is Akumo no ko. I will now be hunted down shortly after writing this due to exposing the rot underneath Audrey’s cardboard cutout soft boy image. The moral of the story? Do not put superpowers that have killed all previous holders of it + merchant ideals into one person or you will make a being of mass destruction—I mean. Uh. Sugar, spice, and everything nice.

hello re:zero fan. in front of you is a re:zero character. describe them and who they are as a person without mentioning or angling your analysis around subaru natsuki.

[seafoamsol]

Every so often someone will come across my team fortress 2 art from like, 2017, and just go through all of it and I just have to deal with the psychic damage of reliving my high school years and seeing my old art

[nanamis-angel]

𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ♡︎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ You and Suguru have been dating in secret and it hasn't been easy but it's totally worth it. So, while at a party, Suguru slips away to see you, not thinking anyone is around. But just how long does it take Satoru and Shoko to figure out what's going on?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ suguru x fem!reader, fluff, making out (oop), you and suguru get caught kissing (losers lol), suguru is annoyed, satoru is the annoyer ™, shoko is a girls girl, yaga mention.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 2.1k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ was literally in class when I got this idea so I started writing it in my notebook. i'm shameless (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y).

“You could have practically any girl here, Suguru and yet you keep ignoring them all!” Gojo exclaimed at his best friend. The two of them, along with you and Shoko were at a house party of a friend. And despite his flirty personality, he noticed that a lot of the girls their age seemed to flock to Suguru. Yet he ignored their advances every single time.

“I’m just not interested,” Geto replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

Satoru scoffed. “C’mon, you can’t possibly be serious. We’re at a party, have some fun! It’s not like Yaga is breathing down our necks right now or anything.”

But again, Suguru shook his head. “Knock yourself out, I’ll pass.” He shrugged it off.

Up until a couple of months ago, the two boys would go out and meet plenty of girls and would just have fun. But as of late, Suguru had just been ignoring any girls who came his way. Politely, of course, but he always made sure that they knew he was simply uninterested. Gojo would watch as Suguru would turn them away, his jaw agape. He simply couldn’t understand it.

Truth was, Suguru had been dating you for the past couple of months but the two of you had mutually decided to keep it a secret for the first little bit. You were still navigating relationships and you wanted that aspect of privacy. Suguru, of course, wanted to give it to you. But that did make seeing each other quite difficult.

At first, Suguru had no desire to attend these parties anymore. Knowing that he’d be approached by the girls there. But Satoru begged him every time, not knowing about his relationship with you. You didn’t want Suguru to miss out on the fun and told him to go anyway. So, he did. He’d just turn away any girl who’d come his way.

Especially since you wanted to keep things on the down low, he couldn’t just tell these girls that he had a girlfriend without the possibility of the word getting out to your friends.

Satoru glanced at two girls who had their eyes set on him. “Suit yourself.” He shrugged off before putting on a flashy grin and walking towards the girls.

The moment Satoru was distracted, Suguru let out a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he groaned. “That should keep him busy for a while.”

Now was finally his time to slip away—to slip away and find you. You had wandered off with Shoko ten minutes ago and he was already itching to see you again. He pulled out his phone and texted you.

“Where are you and Shoko?”

Moments later, your text popped up on his screen. “Don’t know where Shoko went but I’m down near the bathroom.”

Suguru smiled at your message—finally, he could just be with you alone, even if it was just for a minute. He made his way through the house, ignoring anyone and everyone he walked past. He just wanted to see you and he was determined to do so.

Turning around the corner, Suguru saw you in the hallway, leaning against one of the walls and his face lit up. Shoko was nowhere in sight, and neither was anyone else, just you. He understood you wanted to keep the relationship a secret but boy did it make things hard sometimes.

“There you are,” He said, walking up to you. Immediately, his arms were around your waist, and his chin was propped up on your shoulder. “Felt like I was going to suffocate back there.” He mumbled.

You chuckled a little. “That bad, huh?” You asked him with playful empathy.

Suguru nodded his head. “Satoru can’t take a hint that I’m not interested in any of the girls here. But I can’t just outright say why.” He sighed. Keeping your relationship a secret was hard—especially from his best friend.

Mr. “Six eyes sees all, nosey, and in everyone’s business Satoru Gojo” was hard to keep a secret from. Especially when he didn’t understand why Suguru was so uninterested in the girls around him all of a sudden.

There was no rule in school saying you couldn’t date other students—however, Yaga viewed relationships in school as a distraction and while if he found out you and Suguru were together, he couldn’t do much about it, he would just make it very obvious that he didn’t approve. Which in turn, would just make things awkward.

So, all of this together was the reason why your relationship was so private and secret.

“But now… I don’t have to deal with any of these pesky people.” Suguru grinned down at you. Within seconds, he pulled you into one of the rooms right by the bathroom, just so he could kiss you in private—away from everyone else, hoping nobody would come stumbling across the two of you.

Putting far too much faith that no one would, Suguru didn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he got straight to it, not wasting any time by pressing his lips against yours. You were a little taken aback by the sudden kiss and his eagerness but you reciprocated with fervor.

It had been hard having to sneak around all the time to do something as easy and simple as kissing; like conveniently going to the bathrooms around the same time while in class—or saying you were going to get some of the cursed weapons from the shed and Suguru would offer to “come help” you every time.

Needless to say, he was making up for all of the times he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t. He understood and respected your wishes to keep things private but boy were there enough times when he wanted to kiss you, no matter who was around.

His hands slipped from your back, down to your hips, giving them a firm but gentle squeeze. The only time you pulled away was to catch a breath, only for you to reconnect your lips with his moments later. With his hands still on your hips, he pulled you closer, kissing you harder.

Suguru was a great kisser—granted you had no one to compare him to since he was your first boyfriend but he made you feel alive every single time. He was the epitome of an amazing boyfriend. Respectful, sweet, with just the right amount of playfulness. You swore you could love him forever.

You don’t even remember when you fell for him but you were so glad you did.

But before you could continue, you heard a very familiar voice near the doorway, which caused you both to freeze right in your tracks. “Am I interrupting something?”

It was Shoko, standing in the doorway with a little mischievous grin on her face. You finally pulled away from Suguru, your face as red as a tomato and your eyes as wide as ever. “S-Shoko! Where—how’d you get here?” You asked, stumbling over your words.

“Smoke break in the bathroom,” She said, holding up a cigarette.

Of course, a smoke break. In the bathroom. In the bathroom right next to the room, you were just making out with Suguru in. Suguru mentally cursed himself for not closing the door all the way. At least that would’ve given you a second or two to pull away from each other and make things look normal.

“So, how long has this been going on?” Shoko asked, clearly not giving up on her curiosity.

“Um,” You looked at the ground for a moment. “About three and a half months…”

Shoko looked a little surprised. “Wow, that long? I always assumed something was going on between the two of you but I didn’t know you were together—especially for that long already.” She replied. It was decently impressive, given how strict and nosey Yaga was. Not to mention how nosey Satoru was. “And whose idea was it to keep this a secret for so long?”

Suguru pointed at you almost immediately and Shoko let out a snort at his quickness, provoking you to roll your eyes. Shoko’s eyes moved to Suguru. “And just where is Satoru?” She asked, knowing that the two of them were practically attached at the hip on nights like these.

Suguru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s occupied talking to some girls who were flirting with him earlier.” He answered, feeling slightly bad that he had just dipped. “I took that as a chance to come find [name].”

Shoko’s lips tugged into a grin as she looked you up and down; your lips were still slightly swollen from the passionate kisses you had just shared. “I can see that.” She teased.

Shoko had been your best friend ever since attending school but for some reason, you wanted to die of embarrassment. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a little ball and blip out of existence. It was pretty embarrassing when you were caught making out with someone, even if it was your best friend who caught you.

“Honestly? I’m just impressed you two managed to keep this a secret for so long.” She said, crossing her arms. “Yaga-sensei is practically breathing down our necks most days and Gojo is awfully nosey.”

“Trust me, it hasn’t been easy,” Suguru muttered under his breath, earning a quick glance from you.

“You’re not going to tell Yaga, are you?” You asked Shoko. Shoko wasn’t a snitch—you knew that much but there was a little anxiety in the back of your mind that word might somehow get out to your teacher and make things awkward in places like the classroom.

“You won’t hear a word from me,” Shoko replied.

You let out a relieved sigh and smiled but it got you wondering why you were even anxious to say something about your relationship before. You reached out and your fingers laced with Suguru’s and he squeezed your hand.

However, just moments later, you heard footsteps coming from behind Shoko and towards the doorway to the room. It was Satoru, stumbling over after hearing your voices. “Is Suguru over here? He just disappeared.” He said, his voice slightly dazed.

But his slight daze immediately went away when he saw you standing right next to Suguru, your hand in his. “Ooooohhh what’s going on here?” He teased, leaning his arm on Shoko’s shoulder. It was pretty obvious what was going on. He had observed enough, and Suguru had talked about you enough to know that you liked each other at the very least.

Shoko rolled him off her shoulder and you narrowed your eyes at Satoru. You knew it was practically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut about certain things and you weren’t taking any chances.

“Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut.” You said firmly. You almost sounded like a mother scolding a young child.

“Okay fine,” He groaned, knowing there was no use in fighting you. He could tease or annoy Suguru all day but you were definitely not the girl he wanted to cross. You were not as forgiving as your boyfriend was. “How come I’m the last one to know about this though?” He looked at Suguru, feigning humorous offense.

Suguru began to walk towards the door, your hand still in his. There was no use in trying to hide anything around Shoko and Satoru anymore, so why would he? “Because you have trouble keeping quiet about certain things.” He replied to Satoru as he passed by him. “AKA you have a big mouth.”

Shoko just snickered, following you and Suguru out of the room. “What? What do you mean?” Satoru exclaimed, following behind the three of you. “I can keep a secret! I promise. C’mon you guys I’m not that bad!”

“Name one secret you’ve kept,” You said, looking back at him over your shoulder.

Satoru hesitated as if he was trying to think of one he could say. But then he crossed his arms and turned his nose up. “Well, I can’t say them because they’re a secret, obviously.”

Although this was obviously not true, it earned around of laughs from the three of you as you returned to the party. Even though this wasn’t how you planned your night to go, part of you was quite relieved that you no longer had to hide your relationship with Suguru around Shoko and Satoru. It felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders.

And Suguru? He was the most relieved out of all of them.

And he definitely kissed you a lot that night.

[slasherscream]

the absolute INSANITY of the pushing your s/o away thing with the crazy ass boy gang… it’s like triggering a dog’s prey drive but for serial killers w abandonment issues

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + PUSHING THEIR HAND AWAY/REJECTING AFFECTION

❥ who gets pissed the fuck off ❥

Billy Loomis - Is irritated off rip. Billy plays it cool but he needs physical affection from you. He’s casual about it so he flies under the radar, but this is a stage five clinger. He’s always doing something small. Touching your fingers. A hand on your back. Neck. Sitting behind you instead of putting you directly in his lap. It’s little stuff. Hovering. Smack his hand away one of these times and his jaw clenches right away. “What the hell is your problem?” Please snuggle up to him and don’t start world war 3. It’s not worth the joke. 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Quick question, why do this to yourself? Kevin does not need, nor does he particularly enjoy, physical contact. Period. He is gracious enough to give you physical contact because he knows you’re built different (pathetic). For you to then turn around and spit in the face of him being kind enough to meet your needs? …. Quite crazy of you. The look he gives you is pure confusion because he’s honest to God baffled. What do you want to accomplish here? Go ahead and start begging now, because he’s not touching you for a long while. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Swings wildly between damn near dodging any physical affection you attempt to give him to hanging off you like a squid on a ship. No in-between. For you to have the audacity to reject him when he’s feeling clingy? How dare you. He doesn’t have to beg anyone for attention! Did you forget who you’re dating? Doesn’t even care if you did it with obvious playfulness. He’s sensitive. He’s tender. He’s a bitch. He goes to get up and leave entirely and you have to grab him and beg him to cuddle so this doesn’t become a week long cold war. Happy ego stroking! 

Stu Macher - What you’re not about to do is ruin his mood. Baby, he’s about to ruin yours. How about that? If you push his hands off you once he enjoys a little playful bitchiness. Playing hard to get. He likes to chase, it’s cool. Twice? Okay…. We’re irritating him. Three times? He’s gonna grab your hand, stop smiling, and stare at you. When he places his hand back where it belongs, on your thigh, don’t act up again. He could make your whole week go to shit. Don’t start wars you won’t win. He’s the king of playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes. 

Nathan Prescott - Has to bluster and get visibly pissed off because he is rejection sensitive to a degree that is astounding, frankly. Let you see him upset after he tried to be affectionate and you said no? Hah! Not fucking likely. Being physically affectionate in the first place doesn’t come easy to him. Quality time is more his speed. Even worse if it wasn’t a sexual advance he was making. He tried to wrap an arm around you and you shrug him off? You’ll be lucky to get a hello out of him for the next week. Good luck soldier.

David Mccall - Outwardly, he pretends to be despondent and sheepish when you bat his hand away. He’s using sadness as a shield. If he’s sad then you might feel bad and give in. He’ll use any tool in his arsenal to get his way. One of his greatest skills is speaking in a soft voice, just shy of how you’d speak to a toddler, and telling you: “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” This is all to hide the fact that you rejecting him in any way, shape, or form makes him so angry he can barely think. You might be able to catch the rage hidden behind the veil. If you’re quick enough. David puts on a convincing show, but his gentle smile is twitching at the edges.

❥ who gets sad and mopey ❥

Jordan Li - Oh you pushed them away? No, that’s cool, it’s totally fine. You can want space. Everyone’s entitled to their own space bubble. Of course. Are you having a bad day? Are you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Did they piss you off? These are the types of questions Jordan is going to “casually” ask for the next ten minutes while they sit really close to you. They’re not touching you! They always sit with their legs spread so wide. Their arm isn’t around you, it’s on the back of the couch. You’re nitpicking here, babe. They’re staring at you with their big brown eyes. No, they didn’t get any closer while you weren’t looking. 

Josh Washington - Why would you do this to him? Don’t push his hand off you unless you mean it or you’re being obviously playful about it. If you pretend to be mad at him while you do it, no matter how unconvincing of an actor you are, he will believe you. Sensitive king. He also won’t go to touch you again until you initiate the contact. Physical touch is reassuring and comforting to him but even he (category five clinger) gets touch aversion at times. As observant as he is, he knows some people are uncomfortable asserting their boundaries, so they’ll try to soften the blow of saying no by being “playful”. He cannot take the risk! You could mean it but don’t want to hurt his feelings. Josh interprets many playful no’s as real ones. Better safe than sorry.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Sebastian Valmont - Doesn’t take it for anything more than what it is. If you’re being playful he recognizes it. If you’re seriously not wanting to be touched at any given moment he understands that as well. However, in the case of being playful, you’ve started a war you can’t win. Because, as much as Sebastian enjoys chasing you…  Sebastian also likes to be chased. Ten minutes from now you’ll go to give Sebastian’s cheek a kiss and he’s going to dodge you. Hard. To such an extent it’s bordering on insult. He’ll be wearing a cat that got the canary grin all the while. 

Jason Dean/JD - Doesn’t take you seriously even if you are dead serious. I’m sorry, you’ve discovered his worst character trait by far. Most boundaries are a joke to him. He always wants to touch you. He loves you! He craves you like a drug. You should feel the same for him, in equal measure and desperation. So why wouldn’t you want him touching you? Holding you close. He’s so gentle with you (usually). His arms should feel like home. No matter how long a day you’ve had. No matter how overwhelmed you might be with sound, sight, touch. In JD’s eyes you’re one soul in two bodies. He always wants you near. He knows you want the same. You’re just a little dramatic sometimes.

[mrsbarnesblog]

Push him

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x PR manager! Reader

Summary: When you became Avenger’s PR manager, you basically got your dream job, but one particular man, who had been staring at you every single time you were around, made you wonder whether it was because he hated or liked you.

Word count: 6.8K

Warnings: smut, bucky is obsessed with your short skirts, bucky is recovering, grumpy x sunshine, good friend natasha romanoff, office sex, oral sex (f), unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names

Author's note: ‼️so if you haven't seen my previous post, this is my new account. you may have seen this work on my old one (@inmyicyworld) but it was terminated and @support doesn't respond to me. please, follow and share this work. I'm going to reupload all of my old fanfics and hope to get your support ❤️

The work at the Avengers Tower wasn’t what you expected it to be. Tony Stark found you while you were working for another company a little bit more than a month ago. He was amazed by the way you were dealing with problems, by your charisma, and by your ability to find a common language with everyone. That’s how he knew that he had to have you as his partner and a part of the team.

The next day, you got a call directly from Tony, asking you to quit your job and accept his offer to work as Avenger’s PR manager. It would be an understatement to say that your jaw dropped to the floor when you heard your salary.

He said that you were totally worth it and that working with a group of such different people was not easy, but he was sure that you would be perfect at this. So on that exact day, you decided to take a risk and accept the challenge.

One thing that you hated about your previous job was the strict dress code. It was simply far from your style because you hated wearing the same basic and boring clothes every day. Tony said that it was the last thing that he cared about, and in that building, no one was obligated to wear certain clothes.

You knew that it was your lucky ticket.

He was actually really friendly and funny in person. You talked a lot during your first day while he was showing you all the necessary places in the tower: your office, his lab, common rooms and kitchens, avenger’s rooms, and even a beautiful garden on the roof. By the way, Tony allowed you to decorate your office however you wanted and gave you the number of the person who was responsible for this.

In short, it was perfect.

You were giddy with excitement on your first actual day of work. According to the plan, you had to meet with the Avengers and then arrange a few meetings for Tony.

It felt like you spent hours before your mirror deciding what to wear. Your whole room was a mess, and when you finally completed your look, which consisted of a short black skirt, beige long sleeve and a brown leather jacket on top, it was already time to go.

Everyone in the room heard you before they saw you because of the sound of your heels clicking on the wood floor.

“Don’t tell me that this is our PR manager, Stark.” Black Widow looked you up and down with a smirk on her face. “You look good, hun. Finally, someone with a taste in this boring group of losers, besides me and Wanda, of course.”

“Hi.” You nicely smiled, not ready to get a compliment as soon as you stepped into the room.

“Ohh, she’s also the sweet one.” Another red-headed woman, Wanda, said with a smile.

“You both, shut up.” Tony stood up from the armchair with a pack of chips in one hand and threw the other one over your shoulder. “Want some?” He asked you, showing the food, but you slightly shook your head. “Whatever… Now, you all listen here, this is Y/N; she’s our new PR manager. I stole her from someone because she’s incredibly smart and good at her job. Starting from this moment, she’s going to cover up your asses and organize all this stupid media stuff.” You blushed at his words but were still silent. “So, this is Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Bucky, and Th—wait, you already know them, right?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You chuckled. “By the way, it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope we can work together, and I will have a chance to be helpful.” You took a look at all the Avengers in the room, and everyone looked at you with a smile except one person, whose eyes sent shivers down your spine.

When you looked at Bucky, you saw that his eyes were scanning your body with an unreadable expression, and you suddenly felt really weird in your short skirt. Your eyes met, and his famous death stare was really quite scary. He didn’t like you? You two were staring at each other for a few seconds, and you believe that the rest of the team noticed it because Steve loudly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He asked you a few questions about you, and Clint and Sam made a few jokes. Everything was fine as you all chatted for a little bit until Tony said that everyone should get ready for tomorrow’s mission, and you too have a lot to do.

You went back to your office only with the thought that, during this whole time, Bucky was staring at you like he wanted to burn a hole in your head.

Later that day, Bucky was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of already-cold coffee while Steve was making himself dinner. It was quiet besides the sound of the cooking food, or at least Bucky didn’t listen to Steve’s words because he was too deep in his thoughts.

Well, he was mostly thinking about you and his mixed feelings about this interaction. As soon as you walked into the room, you had his whole attention. He couldn’t help but stare at your body, at your open legs, and at your smiley face. He knew that he sounded like a total creep and that it was inappropriate to look at other people this way, but he had never seen women dress this way. Was it normal right now? Was it new fashion trends or something? The only women that he had been interacting with for the past few years were women from Wakanda, and in the tower it was mostly Nat and Wanda, and he had never seen them dress like that. Or, at least, he just didn’t care enough to notice it.

When he saw you today, he felt something in him, and he didn’t like that feeling. It was something new, something that he had never experienced before, but his body became tense and his stomach tightened. It was weird.

“What, you're still trying to process her?” He was distracted from his thoughts by Sam, who came to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water from the fridge. Bucky looked at him and furrowed his brows when he saw a shitty smirk.

“What the fuck are you talking about? And why are you smiling like an idiot?” Bucky growled.

“Because you’re thinking about Y/N.” His words caught Steve’s attention, and he came closer.

“That’s why you two were staring at each other like that?” Steve said this while drying his hands with a towel. “Do you like her? I think she seems cute.”

“No, I don’t. She just looks... different.”

“Oh, the old man got excited by the beautiful woman and her short skirt.” Sam’s smile got even wider as he started teasing Bucky. “You know, I wanted to ask her out, but I can take a step back if you like her.” He leaned on the table so he could get under Bucky’s skin even more.

“I do not like her.”

“So you’re okay if I ask her out? Maybe I should go to her office right now.” Sam pretended like he was really thinking about this.

“Sam...” Steve said.

“You both are just getting on my fucking nerves.” Bucky’s chair almost fell to the floor when he angrily stood up. “Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t care about you or her.” With these words, he stormed out of the room, and Sam started to laugh out loud.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” Steve shook his head like a disappointed mother whose kids always fight.

“That was fun, and maybe it’ll push him to ask her out. She’s hot, but not my type; I’m just trying to help this idiot.”

You have been working with the Avengers for over a month now. This work was literally a dream from any angle. You were making a lot of money, doing the job that you really liked, and found a lot of close friends.

Almost everyone on the team was very close to you. Natasha and Wanda were particularly your best friends. Sam was the funniest person you’ve ever met, and he always found time to tease you or to make a compliment. Bruce and Clint were like your uncles—a little bit old and annoying, but always with a piece of advice for you. A few times, you and Steve met at the gym when you came to work too early, so he was happy to train with you. Who would’ve thought that Captain America himself would teach you how to throw a punch?

The only pain in your ass was Bucky Barnes. Well, to be fair, he didn’t do anything. You’re not even sure that you heard his voice. He was always just staring. Any time that you came to the room and he was there, you either saw him from the corner of your eyes or felt his burning gaze on your back.

To this day, you had no problems with your job. You organized a few interviews for Tony and Steve, talked to the newspapers and magazines, and held some meetings, but right now, sitting on your white chair, you felt weirdly nervous.

Bucky had to come here any minute to talk about a recent accident. Apparently, he almost knocked out someone on the street. All the press and news sources were taking advantage of the situation and using loud headlines to cast a shadow on Bucky and get more views. “The Winter Soldier is back?”. “The Winter Soldier almost killed an innocent man on the street.”

It has been the biggest topic on the internet for the past few hours. Most of the people were furious and wrote too many inappropriate and rude things. So you asked FRIDAY to call Bucky so you could know the whole situation and give comments to the press as soon as possible.

You started thinking about what you should do, or, to be more honest, how to behave around Bucky, because a few days ago two red-headed women that you now considered your best friends assured you that he is in love with you and just doesn't know what to do with it.

You told them everything about his weird actions—that he always looked at you, checked your clothes, and stayed silent. Natasha and Wanda just looked at each other with smirks on their faces.

“Why are you looking at each other like that?” You arched an eyebrow and crossed your hands across your chest.

“Please, don't tell me that you don't understand his behavior.” Natasha looked at you and sipped her coffee.

Well, I wouldn’t have asked you if I knew the reason.”

“Honey, he lust likes you and thinks that you’re hot. You remember that he’s actually an old man, right? Women from his time didn’t dress like that, and you look really sexy.” Wanda’s words made Nat nod her head as you looked weirdly at both of them.

“That’s bullshit, Wanda. This can’t be true. I'm sure that he just doesn’t like me and thinks that I look too revealing. Or he just hadn’t had a girlfriend in a long time.”

“Some time ago, I came to the kitchen at like 2 a.m. just in my lingerie because I thought everyone was asleep. Barnes was sitting there with a book, and you know what? He just said “Hi” and didn’t even look at me again while I was making a sandwich. And when he sees you, he just can’t take his eyes away and stares like an idiot.”

You stayed silent, thinking about the girls' words, because everything seemed pretty reasonable.

“And what should I do?”

“I don’t know, seduce him or something.” Natasha just casually said it, and your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Wait, do you like him?” Wanda asked you, and Natasha huffed like it was obvious.

“I mean… he’s beautiful. I didn’t have a chance to talk to him, but Steve and Sam love him, and I trust their opinion.” You stopped trying to put together your thoughts. “To be honest, sometimes I think about the fact that he’s probably one of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. When we studied history at school, all the girls fell in love with America's Boy, and I with his best friend.”

“Then don’t wait. Just give him some hints, because I swear, for the ladies’ man, he’s too slow.” Natasha’s words made you smile. “Try to get closer to him; I don’t know, flash him with your boobs and look at the reaction. Push him a little bit. He’ll break.”

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump out of your chair.

“Come in.” You said this as you stood up and fixed your white dress and cardigan.

Bucky came probably to the lightest and most cozy room in the whole tower. A lot of white and pastel colors, comfy sofa and armchairs, and paintings on the wall. And in the middle of this was you—always perfectly looking, in heels, in a too-short dress, and with a smile on your face. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the smooth skin of your legs. It’s probably so soft...

“Em– Hi.” You awkwardly stood while his eyes were scanning your body. He didn’t answer; he just nodded. “So I think that we can sit there, it’s more comfortable.” You wave your hand at the sofa with a fluffy cover on it. “Do you want anything? Tea, coffee, water, soda?” Bucky just shook his head while he was trying to comfortably sit with a frown on his face.

You deeply inhaled while trying to be a professional. You didn’t know what was wrong with this man, but his behavior started to get on your nerves.

“Bucky, we can’t work together if you keep ignoring me. You can say if you don’t like something, because I don’t want to be on bad terms with anyone.” You sat across from him and crossed your legs.

“I don’t know what I should say.” His deep voice filled the room. Bucky took a pillow that was lying near him and started playing with the fringe. “I feel weird when I’m around you, and I don’t like it. I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have.” His eyes scanned your body once again, and you wondered if he was talking about what you thought.

“Can I do something to change it?”

“No.” He deeply inhaled. “It’s my own problem, and it’s not your job to try to fix it. Anyway, why am I here?”

“I think you know why. I need to ask you about the recent incident because I have a meeting with the press in less than an hour, and I have to give them a good reason why you did that. People didn’t take all that information too well.” You saw that Bucky sadly smiled and looked you directly in the eyes, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “So, tell me what’s happened.”

“You know that whatever you say won’t change people’s opinions about me, right? No one forgave me, and they’re still looking for a chance to call me a murderer.” He tried to hide behind a smile, but you saw everything written in his eyes. Bucky hurt himself with his own words.

“I understand how you feel about this whole situation, but we should address all those rumors because things might get worse.” You leaned on your knees with your hands, and Bucky’s eyes immediately fell on your boobs.

Push him a little bit. He’ll break.

You tried to hold back a smirk.

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “ I– um– I was walking from the coffee shop to the tower. It was another busy street with hundreds of people, but I still didn’t expect someone to touch me. That man jumped on my back or something, and my instincts just worked. I threw him over myself on the ground and put a hand on his throat. Turned out he wanted to take a picture. But I panicked because there are many people who want to take revenge and who might want to do it literally any second. I’m always ready for this.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but you could hear the pain in his voice.

You felt deeply sorry for the man before you. Even if he was cold and acted weird around you, you knew that it was his way to protect himself. After everything he came through, you couldn’t blame him.

“Do you still go to the therapist?” You gently asked.

“Yes, two times a week.” Bucky nervously ran his right hand through his hair while still holding your pillow in the metal one.

“Okay, that’s good; I can work with this information.” You nodded and reached for your journal on the coffee table. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Bucky. I really appreciate it. I’ll do my best to convince people that it was not your fault, okay?”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stood up, carefully putting your pillow in its place, and left your office without another word, while you were sitting there with a smile.

Maybe the girls were right.

After that day, everything between you and Bucky became even weirder. Yes, he wasn’t totally silent now, and you’ve got a few “Hi”, but his stares felt different.

It was like you two were playing some kind of game. Since you knew that he didn’t actually hate you, you tried to do as Natasha and Wanda said—get his attention and push more. And God, you loved that game.

Almost every day you found an opportunity or excuse to see him in common rooms or in the corridors of the Tower, and you made sure that Bucky noticed you. You wore tighter clothes, walked right past him, and looked at him with a smile. You knew that it was working because a few times Bucky just suddenly left the room while he was mumbling something.

It was almost 8 p.m., but you were still working on schedule for the next week. There was some kind of charity event, and Tony required you to convince everyone to go there because more Avengers can attract more sponsors and money. As always, Bucky was the one who refused to go there. He simply sees no reason for him to be there, and he doesn’t want to be there alone because he knows that Captain America will be the biggest star, and such a social butterfly as Sam will leave him in a second.

You decided that it would be better to talk to Bucky in person, but you didn’t want to lose a chance to get his attention, so you went by yourself instead of asking FRIDAY.

You looked in the small mirror to check your makeup and hair and went straight to where you knew Bucky was spending his evening. As you walked in a dark room filled with only light from the TV, you saw Sam and Steve sitting on the couch and Bucky on the armchair near them. You quietly walk to him and just casually sit on the armrest. His eyebrows flew to his hairline, and you heard that the chewing from the boys stopped. Bucky had no choice but to put his metal arm on your lower back.

“I need you in my office. You have to talk about the next charity event. Could you please give me some of your time?” You quietly asked and lowered yourself closer to him. Bucky was just staring at you for a few seconds, but then slightly nodded.

Bucky followed you to your office, not without getting smirks from the boys,and then stood near your table with his hands in his pockets.

“Don’t you want to sit?” You said and stepped closer to him.

“No.”

“Um– okay.” You took the papers from your table and stood in front of Bucky. “So, you know that there is going to be a charity event, and I’m responsible for getting all the Avengers there, and you are one of them.”

“I’m not going, I already told Tony.” He just shrugged.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not needed there. I’m not an actual hero, people have no interest in me, especially when there will be Iron Man, Captain America, and Thor, you know? Plus, I have no interest in sitting alone the whole night.” You saw that Bucky tried to be casual about it, but he just put salt on his own wound.

“Don’t say that, Bucky. There are people who want to see you there, you have a lot of fans. You know, I’m going there too, so if you don't mind, we can–”

“What game are you playing with me?” He interrupted you. Bucky straightened his shoulders, which made him look even bigger, and started moving closer to you, putting you in a trap between him and your desk.

“W– what do you mean?” You couldn't control your body as you started to tremble a little bit from the power that this man had. As soon as you bumped into the table, his hands landed on both sides of you, and his face was right in front of yours.

“Don’t act clueless, Y/N. I see what you’re doing.” He stopped for a second, studying your face. “You know, I tried to convince myself that you do all of this by accident, but now I’m sure that you’re just playing your little game. Am I right, doll?” You two were staring at each other, and you felt almost nauseous from different emotions.

He was so fucking beautiful up close. Piercing blue eyes, pink lips, and light stubble You know why many women thought that James Barnes was charming. If he had more confidence, he would’ve been unstoppable.

Your eyes slowly shifted lower to his arms and chest as you remained silent. He was big, with well-trained muscles that were seen through the tight black t-shirt. Both arms were stretched near you, so you had a really good opportunity to look at the smooth tanned skin and beautiful dark vibranium. You felt how your lower stomach tightened just from the thought of getting those pretty hands on your body…

You were pulled out of your head by a sudden movement of Bucky’s hand, which gripped your face and pushed your lips together. He was obviously dominating in the kiss, as if he were desperate to taste you. The tip of his tongue brushed over your lips, asking for entrance, which you happily gave him. The moan came out of you when Bucky moved away and looked you in the eyes, still holding your face.

“This whole fucking time I thought that I was a creep for looking at you, but now I know that you did everything on purpose, doll.” His eyes moved between your eyes and mouth. “All these short skirts and dresses that almost showed me everything underneath it, all these innocent smiles and looks... You did it to tease me?”

“Not at first...” You mumbled. “But you were acting so weird, and girls said that you liked me and just didn’t know what to do. I wanted to find out whether it was true or not.”

“Fuck, if I knew earlier that this was your plan, I would’ve bent you over the nearest surface, baby.” Bucky moved a little closer, brushing his lips over yours. “Do you know how fucking hot and gorgeous you are? I haven’t felt that way in many, many years. Just wanna kiss you and make you mine.”

“And what’s stopping you from this, Sargent?” You asked with a smile and moved your hand to the back of his neck to gently play with the baby hairs.

“You’re gonna be my death, doll face.” He mumbled before leaning closer and kissing you again.

This time, you started to touch each other's bodies. Bucky’s warm and cold hands landed on your thighs, playing with the hem of the skirt and rubbing your soft skin after he lifted you up a little bit and helped you sit on the table, staying in between your legs. Your own hands were moving up and down his broad chest, discovering all of his muscles.

“Bucky…” You whined into the kiss when his finger brushed against the edge of your already wet panties.

“Tell me.” Bucky moved away from your swollen lips and left a path of kisses down your neck. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” He sucked a sensitive spot under your ear, which made you moan.

“I don’t know. Just do anything, please.” You both breathed heavily. You felt like you were too hot; your lower stomach ached, and your underwear was soaking wet. Bucky was looking at you with such lust in his eyes that you wanted him to destroy you.

“Lay back.” He ordered you as one of his hands went higher under your skirt and slid your black lace panties down your legs. You didn’t miss how Bucky shoved him into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk on his face.

You quickly followed his instructions and just threw all the papers from our table on the floor. You’ll regret it later, but now you don't care. The sudden move of Bucky's metal arm grabbed and pulled your shirt, and all the buttons scattered on the floor, making you gasp in disbelief.

“Bucky! It was expensive.”

“Sorry, I’ll buy you whatever you want, I promise. But now I need to see you all.” He growled and fell to his knees before you. “Fuck, doll, such a pretty pussy. I’m gonna make a mess with her.”

Bucky’s hands grabbed both of your legs and threw them over his shoulders. He dragged your skirt higher, not wanting to take it off of you. His head fell on your right legs as he left a few kisses on your sensitive skin.

“Bucky please! Don’t tease me!” You desperately whined.

“I need a moment to appreciate both of you. I haven’t done it since the 40's, you know that?”

You wanted to say something, but his mouth on your most delicate part of your body left you speechless and made you grab his hair. Bucky’s tongue was gentle at first, just to get a taste of you and tease you a little bit. His tongue started to play with your clit, circling it and applying different pressures to find out what made your body twitch. It looked like he was enjoying it too; you felt deep grunts escaping his mouth as he was trying to catch every drop that came out of you.

Your loud moans filled the room as Bucky found the perfect place and made motions that made you see stars. A hand in his hair tightened even more when you felt one of his fingers at your entrance.

“M-hm, so wet and tight for me.” He pulled away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers came in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were firmly glued to your pussy, which was trying to get more, and his mouth opened a little bit at the sight. “Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Bucky attacked you with his mouth again. This time he was licking your folds, mixing his saliva with your juices. When the feeling of his nose touching your bundle of nerves came through your whole body, you gripped Bucky’s dark locks even harder, particularly trying to ride his face, and he had to put his metal hand on your hips so you wouldn’t move.

Your body tensed when he curled his fingers right on your g-spot, sucking your clit like a hungry man.

“Bucky—fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop!” You whined with tears running down your face.

A few more movements of his magical mouth, and you fell over the edge. Your legs tightened around his head, tingles went all over your body, and the loudest moan mixed with Bucky’s name came out of you as you were riding on the wave of your orgasm.

Bucky didn’t stop, though.

He made sure to lick every drop that came out of you, to the point that you had to beg him to stop because you were too sensitive.

“That was—“ You were trying to catch a breath. “That was the best orgasm I've ever had, oh my god. If you did it for the first time in like seventy years, I can’t imagine what you can do with practice.”

Bucky dragged you up by your neck, so you would be at the same level with him. His hand moved your hips closer to the edge of the table, and you felt how hard he was through those jeans.

“I can practice whenever you’ll allow me, doll.” He put his warm hand on your face to kiss you. The taste of your own release on his tongue made you moan.

“Need you inside of me, please.” Your hands automatically started to pull up his shirt, but he stopped you.

“We don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “Why wouldn’t I want to take your shirt off?”

“You know, my arm and scars...”

“Do you really think that I care about it?” You left a few kisses on his cheek. “I think that your arm is hot, by the way, and I want to feel your skin on mine, Sarge.” It was enough for Bucky to pull off his shirt and stay before you half-naked.

Your hands moved to trace every muscle, every birthmark, and every scar on his chest, and you felt that this moment was so intimate, especially because of Bucky’s stare. He looked at you with such adoration and softness that you wanted to melt.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He mumbled and kissed you with even more passion.

Bucky ripped off the rest of your shirt and quickly took off your matching black bra, gripping your breasts with both hands and taking your left nipple in his hot mouth.

You dug nails into Bucky’s back as he was sucking and licking your nipples, leaving them wet in the cold air. It felt good. So fucking good—his mouth was truly amazing. But the emptiness inside of you was almost painful, and you were clenching around nothing.

“Bucky! Sarge, please, I need you.” You almost cried and dragged his head by the hair back to your mouth.

“Baby, baby, wait– “ His hot breath was touching your lips, but he stopped your hands, which were unbuckling his belt. “Baby, I don’t have a condom. Fuck, do you have one?”

“We don’t have to use it... I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” Your legs wrapped tighter around Bucky’s waist and put him closer to your naked core. He swore that he could feel your heat through his jeans and boxers.

“Fuck, I love twenty-first century... I’m clean too, can’t even catch a disease with this serum shit.”

His words were like a green light to you. You didn’t want to wait even a second more. So you just took off his pants with such speed and impatience that it made Bucky chuckle. With the last movement, all of his clothes were on the floor, and you sat on your table, frozen because of the sight before you.

Bucky’s thick and perfectly long dick was the best fucking thing that you’ve ever seen. Pink and a little bit curled to his abdomen. Your mouth watered just thinking about tasting it. Or how well he’ll stretch you out. You didn’t even notice how your mouth opened a little bit, and you unconsciously wrapped your hand around him.

“You’re gonna destroy me, Bucky.” You mumbled, to which you heard only a deep chuckle. Your eyes moved back to Bucky’s smiley face.

“I hope so.”

Two different hands landed on your thighs again, spreading and lifting them up. You both looked down at where his cock almost touched your bare folds, and the first contact made you moan loudly. Bucky took the base of his cock, giving himself a few pumps, and moved the tip up and down your pussy, moving easily because of the mixture of your juices.

You grabbed his forearm and whined at the action.

“Ready, doll?” He was trying to be tough and strong, but you saw how he nervously licked his lips, the tremble of his flesh hand, and the tension in his abdomen. But you still vigorously nodded.

It was different from everything you’ve ever experienced. He was big but tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt you. He only pushed a few inches, but you already wanted to cry from all the feelings inside of you. Pain mixed with extreme pleasure.

Bucky was trying so hard to control his motions and go slow, but God, it wasn’t easy. From the first touch of his cock, it felt like he had gone to heaven. He knew that sex was good, he remembers it, but the feeling of you and your warm body that so gracefully greeted him inside made him feral. Bucky felt such a need to kiss you that it was almost painful, especially when your swollen lips were a few inches away from his.

He leaned in closer to your lips, but it made him slip deeper into you, which made you both loudly moan into each other's mouths.

“Fuck– doll, you’re so warm and tight, oh my god.” Bucky mumbled as the grip on your hips became harder. It’ll probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care.

The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming. He was so deep and stretched you just the way that you wanted, and you almost cried from pleasure.

“Please, Bucky, please move!”

His hips slightly moved once, and it felt like his mood instantly changed. You were suddenly pushed back on your table, and your legs, still in heels, were thrown on Bucky’s shoulders. His metal hand stayed on your thigh, and the other one fell on your stomach to push your skirt higher on your waist.

“All dressed up for me, baby.” He started slowly moving, burying his cock deep inside, and then leaving only the tip to tease you. “You know how long I wanted to do that, huh? Bend you over and just fuck the shit out of you until you can’t say anything except for my name.”

“Bucky– Sarge, please go faster. Just fuck me, do whatever you want.” You were desperate, yes. But you couldn't help but beg, because you really needed him to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of you.

You reached for his hand on your stomach and interlaced your fingers together.

“If you keep calling me that, I won’t last too long, doll.” His thrusts became harder and faster as your body moved up and down on your table.

Bucky was looking at your drunk-looking face with a slightly open mouth because you couldn’t keep your moans quiet. Your hair was deshiveled, your skin glimmered with sweat, and it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

“So beautiful, baby.” Bucky murmured, fucking you harder. The room was filled with loud noises from slapping skin and moans. “You love it when I talk to you like that, huh? Want me to tell you what a good girl you are?” His words definitely did something to you, and you unconsciously tightened around him. “Almost choking my cock, baby, fu-u-ck.”

“Mhm, Sargent, I’m so full of you.” You couldn’t see straight as the tip of his head pressed at the perfect spot with every thrust, it was too much and not enough at the same time.

The wet kisses on the inner side of your thigh sent shivers down your whole body when Bucky started to suck tender skin. His rough movement didn’t stop for a moment, and you knew that your orgasm was getting closer. The warm feeling in your belly slowly became bigger. It was hard for you to cum from sex, but Bucky did it so fast and without even touching your clit.

“C’mon, doll face. I feel ‘ya. Feel how your perfect little pussy is squeezing me. Cum with me, baby, cum on my cock.” His movements were still rough and confident, but you felt the slightest change in the way he was looking at you, how his body trembled a little bit, and the prettiest quiet noises escaped his mouth as Bucky was coming to his own end.

You were completely lost in your pleasure, with strong arms on your body and Bucky’s hard cock that was completely destroying you, so when fingers on your clit started to move in circles, your body slightly jolted up from your table.

“Bucky, Bucky, please—ohmygod, I’m coming!” You cried out loud and grabbed the hard wood under your arms.

“O-oh, fuck, doll, cum with me, please. Yes, squeeze my cock harder, make a mess. ‘M gonna cum.” With the last few pushes of his dick inside of you and movements of the fingers, you both fell from your heights, and the room filled with loud moans of pleasure. The feeling of his hot seed on your walls almost made you faint.

Bucky fell down on your body as your leg slipped from his shoulder. Two strong arms wrapped around you, and Bucky’s face nuzzled into your neck. You don’t know how long you two stayed silent, trying to catch a breath, while your hands gently rubbed Bucky’s back.

When he finally lifted himself up with a metal arm near your face on the table, the look in his eyes sent millions of butterflies to your stomach.

“I don’t even know what to say…” He chuckled and cupped your face with his right hand. “You look so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

“Even when my makeup, my hair, and my clothes are completely destroyed?” You playfully arched an eyebrow and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on your hot skin.

“Well, I did it, and I’m satisfied with it. You still look so hot, especially with my dick still inside of you.”

“Bucky!”

“Sorry, sorry. But I’m serious, though. Will you let me take you on a date? Maybe yesterday for lunch or for dinner after work?” His eyes had this little bit of doubt, and you couldn’t stop your wide smile because he was really thinking that you would say “no” after that.

“I will be glad to go out with you, Buck.” You dragged his face closer and gave him the sweetest kiss you could.

Bucky moved away, gently slipping out of you, and you hissed at the empty feeling. He helped you stand up on your shaking legs and handed you your clothes.

“Fuck, you completely destroyed my clothes.” You said as you were standing in front of the mirror. “How will I go home?”

“You can stay in my room.” Bucky came closer to you and helped you make your blouse look more presentable, even without buttons.

“Really?”

“Of course, doll. Just hold your shirt in case we bump into someone in the corridor, but I think everyone is already in their rooms.” Bucky finished dressing up, and you saw your underwear sticking out of his pocket.

“Don’t you want to give me my panties?”

“Na-ah, you’ll have to walk with me dripping out of you.” He gave you a cocky smile and turned all the lights off before wrapping his arm around you and leading you into the hall.

It was completely empty, but the second that you stepped out of the elevator, you saw Bucky’s best friends looking at you. All of you were looking at each other for a few seconds before Sam started hysterically laughing.

“You owe me fifty bucks, idiot!” He said to Steve, who was as red as a tomato. “Good job, Buckaroo, but I really thought that we were gonna ask her on a date first.”

“Fuck off, Willson.” Bucky growled, protectively stepping forward to protect you from their looks.

“Okay, okay, relax, no one’s touching your girl.” He said with a cocky smile on his face. “Let’s go, Steve. You’re too innocent to look at things like this.” Sam took his friend and led him in another direction.

“Asshole.” Bucky growled.

“Everything is okay, Buck, let’s go.” You stepped closer to his room, but he was still standing in his place. “I have to take a shower. Will you come with me, or will you stand here the whole night?” You smirked.

It was everything he needed to finally get closer to you, scoop you into his arms, and carry you into his room to the sound of laughter, which soon turned into moans.

[uno-san]

Hiii! Could I rq reader who was Fords gf/so before he left and when he comes back he’s happy bc he realizes reader stayed in Gravity Falls the whole time and maybe even helped Stan fix the portal!

But then Bill comes and it’s totally up to u whether to make Bill like super jealous of reader or become just as obsessed with reader as he is with Ford idk.

Thank u!

Hello! Thanks so much for sending in a request. This is the first thing I've written in FOREVER, so I miiiiight have gotten carried away. Hope you and everybody else enjoys!

It always reminded you of the night sky. 

That, or what lied far beyond it. Beyond you, maybe. But never Stanford Pines. Who, in this very moment stood several yards from where you yourself were. The both of you had that strange, not-quite night sky wrapped around your forms. Yet instead of the endless expanse that space was known for, various journals, textbooks, and equations littered that space around you.

It would have been a marvelous sight if you didn’t know the purpose behind this all-too tailored world for Stanford. A trap meant to make him feel seen and applauded in ways you couldn’t quite match. A place for them to meet.

Beside Stanford was another figure. A three-sided one to be exact who had taken place near his shoulder, where he had been far longer than you could have ever known. But here he didn’t need to whisper his lies. Here, the two of them could simply converse and enjoy each other’s company. A wonderful plan to make Stanford feel known while also shutting you out from the light altogether.

Their laughter was uproarious.

“AHAHAHAHA! COME ON, SIXER, YOU DON’T MEAN THAT!”

A shrill voice cut through your observations. The devilish figure that it belonged to had placed his hands over his chest, or stomach, as if he were trying and failing to hold in his joy. His one eye was closed and curved to show a smile that his body didn’t have the means to actually do. His tie meanwhile spun in circles as if a toy had been wound up.

‘Sixer’ had his eyes lowered to the platform of which he stood. Tucked under his arm was one of his prized journals, where each of his six fingers drummed against its spine. He looked bashful under interrogation.

“What, not quite the term your ego would prefer, Bill?” Stanford finally shot back, his gaze raising to meet Bill’s while his eyebrow raised to pose a challenge.

“NOT AT ALL!” 

The demon began to circle around Stanford, who’s whole body began to turn with a determination not to break eye contact again. As if he were afraid of losing sight of Bill. Or his attention. Seeing it reminded you of a puppy enamored with its owner. Its everything, really. You had been familiar with it at some point yourself. What felt like ages ago now.

“JUST SURPRISED, IS ALL. I MEAN, AAAAAAAAALL I’VE DONE IS EXPAND YOUR MIND TO THE UNIVERSE OUTSIDE YOUR PUNY WORLD, SHOW YOU NEW COLORS, AND GIVE YOU THE PERFECT COMEBACKS EVERY TIME YOU GET INTO AN ARGUMENT,” He humbly bragged, “BUT IS THAT ALL REALLY WORTH IT TO BE CALLED YOUR-”

MUSE.

Muse.

Muse.

Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse. Muse.

That damn word was going to be imprinted on your brain with how often it was quite literally repeating. Out Loud. High-pitched and nearly shattering your ear drums, a physical manifestation of the word appeared in the space to hurl itself in your direction; A move you’ve seen one too many times. You nimbly dodged off to the side without losing your footing like you had the first time this occurred. With both your feet planted firmly on the ground you whipped your head around to catch the end of the show.

The scene had frozen. Stanford’s expression was stuck in a form of denial, his cheeks tinted a rosy color that you used to make them turn. His brow was furrowed as if he were concerned. Or desperate to assure Bill that he truly was worth it all. Bill meanwhile had his arms folded behind his back while his half-lidded eye bore down on its prey like a benevolent mentor.

Bill’s pupil slowly slid in your direction.

“A BENEVOLENT MUSE, YOU MEAN.”

Bill Cipher became animated again. This time he no longer addressed the version of Stanford standing before him. His smug attention was all focused on you now. His small frame managed to tower over you in mere presence alone, even at the distance you two stood at.

Arms folded behind his back, there was a silence that followed while Bill inspected you. Perhaps waiting for you to give a response before he settled on his own. He feigned surprise.

“DIDN’T EXPECT TO CATCH YOU HERE. SIXER AND I WERE JUST HAVING A MOMENT ALONE,” Bill emphasized, his arm outstretching far past its supposed physical limit to wrap itself around Stanford’s still frame, “YOU KNOW, LIKE WE’VE BEEN HAVING FOR A WHILE. BEHIND YOUR BACK. IN FACT HE WAS JUST ABOUT TO GET TO COMPLIMENTING ME. SINCE I’M HIS MUSE. HIS SKY. STARS. WHATEVER.”

Muse.

Another manifestation hurled its way in your direction. You weren’t nearly as prepared and the edges of the word were sharp, slicing into your arm to draw what you assumed to be blood. With a wince you had to steady your balance before your glare shot back to the bastard in front of you.

He was a menace who you hadn’t realized you had been in competition with for years. And now, in a pissing contest with as the man you’re both fighting over like teenagers was lost in worlds unknown. The man you had loved and had been prepared to marry was gone now. Leaving you with his unfaithful ‘Muse’.

Oh, how you’ve come to hate the word.

It happened first when you had learned of the existence of an other-worldly being that had been secretly leading Stanford’s ambitions. Second was when you had discovered Ford’s hidden collection of idols and paintings. All squirreled away in a private chamber of his own viewing pleasure. That had been manageable.

But the fondness in his gaze when discussing their meetings made your heart ache. How he’d talk as if Bill Cipher was the sole purpose of everything now. His reason for continuing his research or facing adversity for his talents. Or the way he’d pause in the middle of a task to instead laugh at a memory of Bill from earlier, with his hands looking to busy themselves as a distraction.

All of that had hurt. But what made you hate the word most of all was its constant use to torture you. That the moment Bill had sensed your distaste for the term he had done nothing but plague your mind with it. Shoving it in your face as if he was a secret side woman in some stately affair.

Thus far this has been your nightly routine for several months now. Ever since Stanford Pines went missing from this world and so many others. With his brother, Stanley, being left behind with you to pick up the pieces to get back your lost loved one. And for some reason or other, Bill had set his sights on tormenting you.

Every night. Different visions of their bonded moments played in your mind while Bill sneered and poked fun at you for being fool enough to never notice the signs of your man slipping away. You never knew if what he showed you was true. You hoped not.

“THEY’RE REAL.”

You ignore him a moment to get back on two feet. Standing tall before him.

“Do you plan on taking me through your ‘Greatest Hits’ every night or are you going to fuck off already?” The venom in your tone caused interest to gleam in his eye. Most nights you try not to dignify his taunts with a response. But you were tired. Both mentally and physically thanks to late nights with Stanley to try to get the portal running again, or your lonely crying sessions blaming yourself for letting this go on for so long. You were exhausted.

“AW, DIDN’T THINK YOU’D GET SO CRANKY OVER A LITTLE FUN FORDSY AND I WERE HAVING! I’M SURE IT’S EASY TO GET INSECURE OVER THE IDEA OF YOUR MAN GETTING THE CHANCE TO VISIT A SUPERIOR BEING EVERY NIGHT BUT HE MENTIONED YOU ONCE OR TWICE. Y’KNOW, ABOUT HOW YOU’RE ‘SAFE’ AND ‘STABLE’.”

You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you. Perhaps even deter you from working on that portal any further, ensuring that Stanford would remain lost to mystery forevermore. “Say what you want Bill but I know him better than what your mind creeping could ever do. You miscalculated by seeing only the parts that benefited you and that’s going to end up biting you in the ass. Because it doesn’t matter what you and Stanford had before. Whatever was there is GONE, and I know that Stanford will be coming to end you too.”

It was difficult to keep your voice steady to feign the confidence that you hadn’t had in a long time. You stood bravely in the face of Bill, who’s form only grew in size while you charged up your own argument. He was nearly towering over you now while his gaze remained steady on you. His expression was unreadable.

“WELL WELL WELL, I-”

He’s yapped for far too long.

“Maybe that’s the point to all of this,” You gestured to the spectacle put on pause, “You realize you fucked up. Pushed too hard. Or maybe you’re not even playing this for me. You’re just trying to convince yourself that Ford is still in the palm of your hand when in reality, he despises you. Wants you dead. That despite all the compliments and praises you keep showing me he still picked me over you.”

You weren’t sure if any of this was going to strike a chord. Especially with being in the dark as long as you had, there was nothing for you to fight with. The best you could do was treat him like the vindictive affair partner he was pretending to be. And it worked. Or it was the hint of a suggestion you made in saying you were chosen over him.

Bill’s form skyrocketed in size from its already heightened form, with the triangle now bending over you now to force you to nearly tilt your head all the way back just to make eye contact. His pupil was entirely black to reflect your new surroundings as the static image of Ford and their place of contact was suddenly whisked away. What used to be a bright yellow turned to blood-red bricks that you swore you could feel heat coming off of.

“STANFORD PINES FEARS ME,” Bill’s voice boomed, “AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHERE I WANT HIM. THINKING OF ME AND CHASING AFTER MY COATTAILS UNTIL THAT NERD COMES TO REASON. AND UNTIL THEN YOU-”

His fingers snapped. The ground beneath you disappeared and you felt weightlessness hit as you began to descend into a dark pit. “YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!”

The vision of the gigantic demon began to fade away. His voice still boomed and echoed despite the void that they were shouted into. As your conscience begins to fade into its own form of nothing you close your eyes to instead repeat his words to yourself.

Never see him again.

__

The Mystery Shack above you groaned with disapproval. Its wood and structure creaked as it finally settled back on the ground, thankfully still supported by its own weight once gravity returned to normal. You were face first on the ground with your head still spinning from that hasty landing you made to resist any damage. With just one peek of an eye you could see that your vision was still hazy. Only a sickeningly familiar blue light kept the basement of the Shack from being in total darkness.

Darkened figures up ahead began to move. When you tried to join them you were quick to discover that your leg caught in debris. A quick examination told you that it wasn’t anything dangerous like active machinery, and the small tugs you gave to test your aching body showed that nothing was quite broken. Hurt, yes, but all intact.

Just like the house you could feel your bones settling back into place while creaking with resentment. You could only imagine how Stanley must have been feeling. Propping yourself up with one arm you then used your freehand to begin pulling away at the rubble on top of you, trying to carefully dismantle it piece by piece so that it wouldn’t collapse on top of you.

Having been so focused on your escape you had only caught the tail-end of what Stanley was telling dipper.

“The author of the Journals…”

Your head whipped around so fast it could have snapped, “My brother.”

As if on cue a figure cladded in a black cloak removed his mask with a six fingered hand, his silver hair whipping around him as he slowly revealed a face you thought you could have anticipated after having aged years with Stanley. The fact that they were twins did little to stop you from tearing up at the handsome visage that was your Stanford Pines.

The wrinkles in his face had deepened from the last you saw him. He was still chiseled with a hint of facial hair he might have shaved off recently while his posture and expression gave off a confidence you weren’t familiar with.

Stanley began to approach him with open arms, prepared to greet the brother he’s missed for years for longer than yours. Stanford didn’t match his sentiments. Instead his fist drew back to strike Stan who had flinched out of the way- But not before Stanford’s fist froze. Left hanging in the air as something else caught his attention. Past Stanley and Dipper. Through various piles of cement and broken wood.

You.

Neither of you moved. His eyes flickered back and forth in a manner that suggested he was examining you all the same. Taking in every detail of your graying form, of each new wrinkle that has marked your age like a tree. The intensity of his gaze made your heart stall for more reasons you could count.

Was that disappointment in his gaze? Or worse, indifference? The world had already been cruel in tearing you apart in the first place. How easy would it be to have Stanford simply forget you? To have moved on to grander and exciting things since his time away. After all, Bill Cipher had enticed him once before. YOU nearly lost him once before. Who’s to say you haven’t wasted your years chasing after a man who could no longer remember your face?

Tears began to gather. They soothed the sting of debris in the air to instead replace it with a dull ache in your heart. At this point you could have been crying over any number of things. You tried calling out his name but the words caught in your throat.

He shouted yours instead. Pushing passed his stunned brother and great nephew to run in your direction. Just as Stanford was a few feet away he suddenly dropped to his knees to slide the remaining distance. It was a physical endeavor you envied in this moment.

Already Stanford’s arms wrapped around your form, drawing you in close to his chest while he buried his face into your hair. You didn’t dare utter a sound of discomfort. Swallowing your tears you chose to focus on his warmth rather than the pain your body was in. How much studier his arms felt from the last time you were held in them, however long ago that was.

“M…My dear…” Stanford gasped, as if the term of endearment hadn’t been uttered in history before. His six fingers nearly dug into your body with his tight grasp. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “This…This is real. Bill isn’t lying again. You’re here. You.”

From the corner of your vision you could see both Soos and Mabel staring in wonder. Their mouths were left hanging open while they slowly turned to each other to clasp hands together. Mabel began to mouth ‘they have a histooooory!!’

You opted to turn your face into Stanford’s chest to ignore all that as long as you could.

“All these years I’ve waited here for you, Stanford. Every year was spent fixing the portal, I-” Your eyes wandered to his twin, “-We’ve been fixing the portal. Stan and I together decided we weren’t going to stop until you were home safe.”

Stanford drew in a breath. The tension that coiled his posture was a familiar sign of his frustrations being withheld, and with the copious warnings in his Journals to not open the portal again you had a fairly safe guess as to what that tension was. Stanford managed to swallow it down as his hand cupped your cheek and directed your eyes to his.

The years have really gone by. For the both of you, you realized as you gazed into weary and worldly eyes. Did he see the same thing in you? Or has it occurred to him just how truly long it's been since the two of you were close like this. Since way before he was lost in the first place. To where Bill’s schemes began to put the first cracks in the foundations of your relationship.

From the distance the portal still glowed a blue hue, flickering every few moments as the machine began to lose its life at long last for what you pray is the last time. Both of you were left illuminated with blue. The beautiful sight of Stanford had been imprinted on your mind, nearly washing away the years of trauma the color had come to be associated with.

You could have sworn Stanford’s eyes were brimming with tears as well before they closed, the distance between you two gone as he leaned down to capture your quivering lips in a kiss. With it came the relief of a thirty-year grief. Not of a healed relationship but of a path to recovery and trust. You nearly grinned into the kiss. Stanford Pines chose you.

[genderqueerdykes]

for people who are often in need of food and/or find themselves in a food emergency, it's more than okay to utilize your food bank. there are no requirements, it doesn't matter if you're totally homeless, on disability, disabled with little/no income, working under the table, a parent in need of help, working but poor, working and barely making ends meet, mentally ill, neurodivergent, or other situations where food is difficult to keep on the table, you are more than welcome to show up and get some food

some food banks require you to have proof of address (i know, it sucks) but in some cities some homeless shelters have the option for homeless folk to get their mail sent to the shelter's P.O. boxes, which will give you the "proof of address" they need, which is usually just some form of mail received at an address. always check with your local food bank to see what documents they require, if any, when possible

some food banks don't require any of that. some do require that you have a car so you can drive through and get boxes, but many do on-foot distribution. some even have delivery options. one of my food banks here does deliveries. it's worth looking into whatever you have going on in your local area if you struggle to keep food in your home. especially fresh fruits and vegetables. i can finally keep a steady supply of vegetables because i'm able to walk to a distribution a block away that happens every friday. it's been a blessing now that i have to cook all of my meals COMPLETELY from scratch to ensure i dont encounter trigger foods

engagement helps these types of programs stay afloat. the more people who show up, the more resources they will get. the government or whatever body runs these organizations need to know the community wants/needs these services in order to continue operating. don't feel bad if you stop by and grab some things if you're genuinely struggling to buy food and keep it around. it's okay to utilize these programs, that's what they're there for.

[sapphire-writes]

Pretty Little Thing

summary: After finding yourself at a holiday party you hadn't wanted to attend in the first place, Aemond Targaryen makes it worth while.

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, praise, slight dirty talk, overstim, kissing, love bites, hand over mouth, titty play, allusions to Aegon being a creeper, alcohol, smoking, langauge

word count: 7.2k

note: im back! grad school didn't kill me! hope you enjoy!

link to other stories from me!

To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on 💙

—

Be there soon.

Alysanne had texted you nearly an hour ago, and with each passing minute you became more doubtful she’d be making an appearance at all.

You hadn’t even wanted to come. It’d been her idea and now she was blowing you off.

“We’re just exchanging the last of our things,” she’d promised on the phone several hours earlier, “You go on without me and I’ll meet you there.”

Yeah. Because it takes three hours to give your ex-boyfriend his stuff back. Totally.

Alysanne and Cregan Stark had been on and off again since you’d known her; this time was no exception. You knew from her first running later than I thought text that the night wasn’t going to go as you’d hoped. 

You decide to like her most recent message instead of replying, unable to stop the wave of annoyance cresting inside of you. 

You hadn’t even wanted to come.

An end-of-semester holiday party. Thrown by the elder Lannister siblings; twins Jason and Tyland. The kings of Casterly Rock are well known for their extravagant get-togethers and the unimaginable generational wealth that funds all their exploits. 

They’d long graduated from King’s Landing University, but you and Alysanne scored an invite courtesy of Cerelle Lannister, their younger sister, whom you’d been trying to avoid since you arrived. If Cerelle didn’t see you, perhaps you could escape the party unscathed.

That hope proves too good to be true as your name is called from across the room. You slide your phone back into your pocket as Cerelle approaches you. Her blonde hair hangs in effortless curls down her back, the emerald green top she wears accentuating its golden hues, along with her bright green eyes. 

You’re not exactly close with Cerelle, though she appears to enjoy your friendship, at least on a surface level. She’s part of the weekly book club you attend. Her grin widens as she reaches you, eyes drinking you in. 

“Darling!” she muses, pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“You wore it!” she says, fingers ghosting across the cashmere cardigan you’d chosen to wear that evening. Cerelle had bought it for you a few weeks ago, though you’d begged her not to; the price was more than you made in a paycheck.

Alysanne once referred to you as Cerelle’s Polly Pocket.

“She pulls you out of her pocket and plays dress up. It’s fucking weird,” she’d said. 

Cerelle’s lips curve upwards in a Cheshire cat grin as she slings an arm around your shoulder, bringing her glossed lips next to your ear.

“Stop moping in the corner like some dreary wallflower,” she purrs, brushing some hair behind your ear, “Have some fun! It’s winter break!”

Goosebumps break out on your skin at her affections. You laugh breathlessly shrugging away from her touch causing her to frown. 

“You haven’t had enough to drink,” she insists, reaching for another glass, “You’re much too antsy.”

“Alysanne was supposed to be here,” you tell her and she nods understanding, looping her arm through yours and giving your forearm a comforting pat. 

“Fashionably late as always, I suppose,” Cerelle drolls, pointing across the room, “There are lots of fascinating characters here who’ll distract you. Shall I spin a bottle to decide?”

“Hilarious,” you tell her, shaking your head.

“I never joke about a good shag,” Cerelle argues, gaze flickering about the room, “From the looks of it you could use it.” She turns back to you, matching your pout. “Don’t frown, you look too lovely.” She places her hands on your cheeks, thumbs tugging the corner of your lips upwards.

“Much better,” she praises as you hold the smile she’s decorated your face with, “Come on let's find you someone…don’t look at me like that! Someone to flirt with, that’s all. A bit of harmless fun.” 

You roll your eyes earning a pitch on the arm and you swat Cerelle’s hand away.

“There’s no one here I want to flirt with,” you insist, following her gaze around the room, “Let alone shag.”

“You’re too picky,” she muses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she scans the room, “What about Greyjoy?”

A shiver rolls through you, “No thank you.”

“Heard he’s good in the sack.”

You’d heard a lot of things about Dalton Greyjoy. None of which made you want to spend an extended period of alone time with him. You glance at Cerelle giving her a firm look. She sighs, returning to her mission.

“You need someone,” Cerelle insists after you shoot down several more options, “You haven’t been with anyone since—what was it again?”

His face flashes through your mind before you can help it. 

“Unimportant,” you quip, “Cerelle, I just want to—” Your words die as two new guests bound up the stairs into the main hallway. 

Suddenly, it’s as if all the air has been sucked from the room, your heartbeat echoing in your ears the only sound you can hear. You tug Cerelle closer, eyes wide.

“You invited them?” you hiss, as Cerelle frowns, following your gaze.

“Not me. Jason must have,” she answers, “It’s not a party without Aegon. Jay swears he has the best coke on this side of the Keep.”

Aegon Targaryen is relatively harmless as long as you keep your drink close. You’re more concerned with the tall figure who lurks closely behind him. Though the younger, Aemond Targaryen towers over his brother; his presence makes the room feel smaller, colder than it was moments ago. He’s dressed in all black, as he usually is, the silver chain around his neck the only other color. His long snow-white hair is braided down his back, an eyepatch securely covering his left eye.

He never takes it off.

Aegon pushes by his brother making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the chaos is localized. You can tell a new drinking game has begun by the sound of cheers and the echo of glasses clinking together. Aegon’s eyes lit up as he disappeared down the hall, eager to join the miscellaneous fun.

Aegon loves a good party.

Aemond watches his brother but lingers behind in the living room leaning against a wall. He extends a long arm to the bookshelf retrieving one with his long fingers. He flicks open a few pages, lips pursing. He glances up, violet eye meeting yours for the briefest moment. 

Your lips part and you look away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You had shared a couple of classes with Aemond, nothing more nothing less. He was quite mysterious. 

“Anyway,” Cerelle says, her attention wavering with each passing second, “Back to you drinking. I’ll get you another glass. Loosen up, pet.” 

—

You try to, you really do. No matter what her intentions are, Cerelle has been nothing but nice to you, so you allow her antics. An hour has ticked by and Alysanne has yet to respond to your latest text message. Squeezed between Cerelle and Sabitha Frey during another round of quarters you decide to plan your escape. 

“I’m going to get some air,” you tell her, rising from the couch. Cerelle rolls her eyes, “I’m not leaving, I swear!”

“You better not!” she says, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together, “I’ll come to fetch you if you’re gone too long—you know I will.”

She’s telling the truth. 

“Five minutes,” you insist, forcing a smile.

Cerelle’s nose twitches but she lets it go and nods, returning her attention to the game.

Weaving through the sea of people you make your way outside letting the door shut behind you as you walk down a few steps of the front stoop. It’s colder than you expected, you can see your breath in front of you. 

You stand shivering, trying to decide what to do next. Reaching into your pocket, you check your phone for the time. You could leave, make your escape down the steps, and catch the last bus back to Maegor’s Holdfast. 

If you stay any longer, you’ll be forced to spend the night or dip into your savings to splurge on an Uber. It’s always crazy expensive on this side of town as if the drivers know the neighborhood is full of rich kids. 

The door opens and noise from the party fills the cool night until it slams shut once more. You roll your eyes expecting Cerelle as you turn your head. 

Only it isn’t her.

Aemond Targaryen lingers on the top step, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing a cigarette between his teeth. He finds a lighter a moment later, a nice expensive one, flicking it open with a sharp click. Fire blooms in the palm of his hand and you can just make out the three-headed dragon branded on the side of the silver lighter before it disappears into his pocket again.

He releases a cloud of smoke into the air, mimicking the one your breath makes. You turn away as he walks down a few steps, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“You were in my class,” he says suddenly, his head tilting to the side, “History of The First Men, right?” 

You force your lips together. “Mhmm,” you answer, surprised he recognized you.

Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem the type to remember a random girl in his class. Smart as hells, he focused solely on his grades, paying little attention to the rest of the student body. He seemed to be the antithesis of his elder brother. Though incredibly different, supposedly they had similar lustful appetites. 

One for pleasures of the flesh, the other for academic validation.

Aegon Targaryen was a known party boy and ran in multiple social circles. He didn’t care about class or popularity; if there was sex, liquor, and drugs around, Aegon Targaryen would be there. 

However, there were stories about Aemond too that made their way around campus. 

“You alright?” he pressed, the silence laying heavy between you. 

“I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now,” you breathe, chuckling slightly as you rub your arms as the frigid air bites into your exposed flesh. 

Aemond quirks a brow at that, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Why’s that?”

“You’re sort of a banned topic at book club,” you admit, causing his lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“Am I?”

“Mhmm.”

Another moment of silence goes by before his curiosity gets the better of him. “Because?”

“Maris runs it,” you tell him, and he clicks his tongue, nodding to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Maris Baratheon, the elder of a pair of Irish twins. Floris Baratheon, once the object of Aemond’s affection for about a half second, was royally screwed over when he left her for none other than Alys Rivers. Adjunct Professor. It was quite the scandal at the time.

You’re not exactly friends with Floris; closer to Maris if you had to choose. But it's the principle of things—girl code. 

“Floris and I were never exclusive,” Aemond comments.

“Yikes.”

So maybe Aemond Targaryen is just like every other guy. Though, you’re mostly sure he’s telling the truth. The story you’d heard was that he ghosted her. 

“She shouldn’t have assumed,” he continues, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes, blood boiling at his statement as annoyance begins to quicken in your belly. Aemond Targaryen seems more like his elder with every word that leaves his curved lips. 

“Right, of course not, how dare she,” is your sarcastic reply. 

Aemond tilts his head toward the sky, speaking around the cigarette. 

“You seem rather upset,” he accuses, “Funny, Floris never mentioned you.”

You turn to face him fully and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Folding your arms across your chest you jut your hip out. “We’re not friends. It’s the principle of it all. I don’t like assholes.”

His perfect lips curl slightly. “I’m an asshole?”

“Mhmm. At least Aegon owns up to his behavior, he doesn’t pretend he’s some suave guy doing nothing wrong.”

You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them.

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Sure seems like it.”

Aemond takes a step closer then. You have to tilt your head to look him in the eye. Something about being this close to him is almost unnerving, your stomach drops slightly as you focus on his prominent cheekbones. 

“It’s not my problem if a girl gets her hopes up after getting fucked properly,” he counters.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you back up, slightly slipping against the icy railing. Aemond reaches out, his hand curling around your bicep to steady you. It’s warm, almost hot; the heat seeps through your thin sweater in the shape of his fingers. 

There’s a tension between you as he holds your arm for a second too long, before the door opens and several partygoers stumble down the steps, forcing you to break apart. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette from across the stairs as they laugh tumbling into the street. You’re grateful for the distraction, taking a moment to slow the frantic beating of your heart, and the slight flutter in your stomach. 

“So,” you begin, trying to break the awkward silence the partygoers left behind with their departure, “How do you know Cerelle?”

Aemond looks at you quizzically.

“How do I know Cerelle?”

You jerk your chin up in a hasty nod. Aemond chuckles, shaking his head and taking another drag.

“Family friend,” he answers, “Old money likes to stick together.”

You nod again, unsure of how to answer as he observes you. 

“Surely you’ve heard of the Westerosi Seven?” he asks.

You haven’t.

“The what?” 

“The seven families,” Aemond says, his tone indicating that this is somewhat common knowledge, “Generational wealth that can be traced back to medieval times. The higher lords and ladies. Near royalty.” He takes another drag.

“And you’re one of them?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

“My family, yes,” he answers, “And Cerelle’s. The Baratheon girls. Stark. They’re all quite close.”

“Interesting,” you tell him, glancing down the street again, “You sound like the mafia.”

Aemond holds your gaze, not denying your allegation. You release a breathless laugh, but unease settles in your gut. 

The door opens as if on cue, and Cerelle pops her head out. 

“Darling! Come back inside you’ll catch your death,” she calls, waving you forward. She spots Aemond out of the corner of her eye, and you don’t miss the look of interest that gathers in her green eyes as they flicker between the pair of you, “Targaryen.”

“CeCe,” he politely greets, choosing to use the nickname Cerelle often kept reserved for her family only. She doesn’t comment on Aemond’s choice. 

“Hope you’re being nice to my girl,” she says, the words clipped.

“Of course,” Aemond comments and you can’t help but feel like you aren’t there. 

Cerelle glances back at you, a smile decorating her face once more. 

“Come on, pet! In the kitchen.”

Her blonde hair disappears in the door. Aemond walks down the remainder of the steps tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it beneath his heel. 

“Best run along,” he muses, not turning to face you, “She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Annoyance prickles under your skin.

“She’s my friend—”

“You have got a very generous friend,” Aemond comments, turning to face you. He motions at your sweater. “Myrish, isn’t it?”

You cross your hands over your chest. 

“Mhmm,” Aemond hums glancing up at you from the bottom step, “I’d just be careful if I were you. Accepting gifts from rich strangers is a lot like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds.” 

You scoff at the implication before turning away and heading back into the townhouse. Aemond does not follow; you don’t hear the door open as you hurry back up the stairs. 

The party has since moved completely to the kitchen, sans a couple making out on the living room couch. You enter the crowded space and crane your neck to see what everyone is cheering at.

It’s something happening on the marble island, but you don’t see what—that is until Cerelle sits up, her blonde curls cascading around her face, a lime between her pearly white teeth like a cat with a mouse. 

She smiles curling her finger, beckoning Aegon Targaryen forward. He leans against her, bringing his mouth to hers and stealing the lime. The juice flows down his chin before he lets it fall, pressing a sloppy kiss to Cerelle’s lips, earning several cheers. 

As she breaks away she notices you, eyes lighting up as she slips off the counter. 

“Good, you didn’t leave!” she says giggling, “It’s your turn.”

“My turn?” you ask, heart dropping into your stomach. 

“Mhmm,” she says, dragging you forward, “Up now!” 

“Cerelle, I don’t—”

“Hush! Qyle Martell is doing it,” she says biting her lip suggestively, “Let the sexy Dornishman take a shot off you, alright?”

Your cheeks darken as he appears before you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you onto the counter like a lamb for slaughter. The crowd cheers and your eyes widen as you meet Qyle’s warm brown eyes. 

“Your sweater,” he says, motioning to it with his hand that clutches a bottle of tequila. 

You glance at Cerelle and she nods encouragingly. Over her head and in the doorway you spot Aemond. He didn’t leave after all. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, observing the chaos with a curled lip, as if the entire thing is beneath him.

Qyle whistles, drawing your attention back to him. He motions to your sweater yet again.

“Oh,” you tell him, moving to unbutton it. 

Thank goodness you wore a tank top underneath. Your fingers slip with nerves as you struggle to unbutton it. You’re the center of attention, peers cheering and chanting around you as you struggle with the bottoms. 

Quite the sacrificial lamb you are. 

“Here, can I help?” Qyle asks, reaching toward you, his fingers bumping against your own. The bottle of tequila sloshes. 

“No—no I’ve got it—oh!”

You’d moved wrong, done something wrong—or perhaps someone pushed him you’re not sure. Your head is buzzing with the noise of the room and suddenly the front of your sweater is doused in tequila. Qyle’s eyes are wide as Cerelle pushes him to the side as the smell of alcohol fills your nose. 

The room quiets momentarily until Cerelle’s bell-like laugh pierces through the silence. 

“Qyle you idiot,” Cerelle sneers, nose wrinkling with playful distaste, “You’re supposed to wait till she’s laying down—”

“It was an accident!”

“—and her sweater!” Cerelle growls in annoyance, “Go upstairs, pet, my room. Pick anything you like.”

You slide off of the counter, hurrying from the room, leaving the sound of music and chanting behind as you move deeper into the labyrinth of the Lannister home. 

—

Cerelle’s room lacks color and warmth. 

You’d spent the night once here before, crawling into the white feather bed after too much mulled wine. Cerelle had stroked your hair until you’d fallen asleep, only to awake the next morning with a severe headache and a churning belly. 

Popping the rest of the buttons, you peel the soaked sweater from your body and throw it in the hamper. You then walk over to Cerelle’s closet—double doors—and open it. Expensive. Perfumed. You’ve already ruined one pretty thing. Though Cerelle could hardly care about the expense, you do. You sigh, gently pushing through the soft fabric.

“Playing dress up?” a voice calls, and you turn to Aemond at the door. 

You close the closet door. You’ll just have to survive in your thin top. Aemond holds a glass of whiskey between his long fingers.

“Well, I suppose that was a given,” you answer him, sitting down on the bed.

Aemond watches you from the doorway, his arm raised above his head, fingers tapping nonsensically against the frame. 

“D’you want to see how you’re supposed to do it?” he suddenly asks.

“Do what?” you question, tilting your head to the side. 

“What Qyle was going to do,” he answers, and you understand his meaning. 

Aemond walks over to you, the ice rattling against the glass he lazily grips between his fingers, coming to stand in front of your legs. You’re not sure why he’s asking, what interest he has in you. But something in your belly tightens the closer he gets.

“Alright,” you give him a quiet answer, the word barely slipping past your lips. 

Aemond purses his lips, glancing down at your legs. 

“Spread them,” he says softly, motioning with the cup. Warmth creeps up the back of your neck and blooms on the apples of your cheeks. You lock eyes with him, focusing on the ring of violet that surrounds his pupil. You do as you’re told, knees parting; his gaze hypnotizing. “Wider.” 

Your skirt tightens against your thighs as you do so, but you spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. He takes a step forward and you’re forced to look up at him.

“Lean back,” he instructs. You’re beginning to notice how easily he slips into the domineering role. Again you follow his instructions, cheeks burning as you lean back, propping yourself on your elbows. 

You’re much more exposed without your sweater, the tops of your breasts visible in the thin top you wear. Aemond steps closer, looming over you, heat radiating from his tall form.

He reaches out, fingers caressing your cheek. You hope he can’t feel how warm they’ve become, feel your pulse fluttering against his fingers as they trail underneath your jaw and down your neck until they reach your collarbone.

“You’re to put salt here,” he murmurs, pressing against the dip of your collarbone for emphasis, “That’s first.” He leans down then, fingers trailing over your shoulder and down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. “Though we’re without.”

You swallow as his fingers continue to trace your collarbone. His violet eye watches you carefully before he pulls his hand away. He brings them lower, ghosting down your ribs until they reach your waist.

“May I?” he asks, fingers at the hem of your shirt. You give him a wordless nod, not able to trust your voice. Aemond pushes the fabric up slightly, revealing your navel. He holds the glass above your stomach; a drop of condensation falls causing you to flinch at the cool sensation.

Aemond flicks a brow at the constriction of your abdomen, “You’re quite sensitive.”

“It’s cold.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees, turning the glass so more condensation falls; little raindrops begin to adorn your skin, “The liquor goes here.” His fingers ruin the pattern he’s created, rough fingertips swirling the dew drops around your navel, “Tequila.”

“We haven’t got any,” you breathlessly tell him, his touch leaving a scorched trail across your belly. 

Aemond brings his glass closer, pressing the edge against the beginning of your belly button, letting some whiskey pool there. Your hands clenched into fists as the cold liquid fills you up; you watch as it shakes slightly, overflowing. Aemond leans forward, catching the spill with his mouth causing a gasp that sounds more like a moan to leave your mouth. His mouth covers your navel and you can feel his tongue swirl around, collecting the liquid he poured there with hot, calculated strokes. 

His violet eye peers up at you from behind silver lashes, half-lidded as he hollows his cheeks sucking harshly. He reaches toward the side table, mouth never leaving you, to place his glass on the edge freeing his hand. You can feel his tongue circling your navel, gently probing the sensitive skin. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at the ticklish sensation. Aemond presses his hands against your obliques before releasing you with a pop, his chin and lips shining. 

“That’s how it's supposed to be,” he murmurs, not moving from the spot between your legs. Some of his silver hair has fallen across his brow, and on instinct you reach forward, brushing it from his eyes. 

“There’s one more part,” you tell him, fingers grazing the beginning of the scar that mares his left brow before disappearing behind the patch.

“What’s that?” he asks, his gaze revealing he knows the answer. 

He just wants to hear you say it, you realize. 

Your lips part, fingers still somewhat tangled in his hair; the strands soft as silk between your fingers. 

“There was a lime,” you tell him, “The person….holds it in their mouth.”

Aemond pushes up then, his hands sliding up your sides until they’re pressed into the bed on either side of you, his face inches from your own. 

“Have you got a lime on you?” he asks, his breath warm on your face, the scent of whiskey strong between you.

“No,” you murmur, not knowing where to look. He’s so close you can see the flecks of blue and gold in the lilac iris of his eye, count his silver lashes, and notice the small indentation on the tip of his prominent nose.

He hums again, his eye dropping to your lips.

“Pity,” he says, lips down turning into a pout.

Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest with the way it's pounding incessantly against your ribcage. He’s so close your chests are practically touching; your nipples straining against the fabric of your top. His chain peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes flicker to his lips, tongue darting out to wet your own and he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Your hands wrap around his neck as he kisses you; his lips so soft and firm against your own, skilled tongue parting them with ease to deepen the kiss. A moan doesn’t make it out of your throat as his hand cradles your jaw, the sound of soft kisses is the only thing you can hear besides the muffled hum of the music playing downstairs. 

Aemond pulls away then, the look is his eye ravenous as he lowers himself between your legs once more. For a minute you think he may grab his glass and do the party trick all over again, the kiss just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Instead, he pushes your skirt up, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs. You realize a moment too late what he’s doing.

Riiiip!

“Aemond!” you squeak, as he rips the seam of your tights, “These were a new pair!”

“I can buy you another,” he says, pressing a kiss against the smooth newly exposed flesh, “Or perhaps CeCe can. You’re her favorite plaything, aren’t you?” 

Your cheeks burn at the statement, your mouth pressing together in a tight line. Aemond grins, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt and wiggling it down your legs along with your ruined tights.

“Oh she doesn’t like that,” he says, clicking his tongue, “But it’s true, isn’t it?” His hands are roaming higher now, grazing against your clothed center. You’re certain he feels the evidence of your arousal but he stays quiet about it. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? A pretty little plaything.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, humiliation seeping into your veins, though it does little to quell the desire pooling in your belly. 

“No shame in that,” he says, shaking his head, “I understand Cerelle, entirely.” His fingers tug your panties down your bare legs, exposing your wet center. Aemond’s eye locks on it, lips quirking upward. “I like pretty things as well.”

“So I’ve heard,” you quip as Aemond’s second-hand joins the first. He swirls a finger low against your entrance and you clench as he drags it upwards.

“Have you?” he muses, circling your clit with minimal pressure, “And what have you heard?”

“That you’re as insatiable as your brother,” you manage to choke out as his thumb continues to tease your clit, “You just hide it better.” 

Aemond cocks his head to the side in silent agreement before pressing his face against you. A sharp cry leaves your lips as his tongue explores from your entrance up to your clit, the tip circling the sensitive button. 

Eyes rolling back in your head, Aemond nuzzles his face against you, tongue slipping down and pressing into your clenching hole. He hums in approval as you make another desperate noise as his tongue curves upwards inside of you. 

Seven hells, how is anyone’s tongue long enough to do what Aemond’s is doing? Your toes curl as his tongue hooks upwards against the front of your pelvic bone, thrusting against the sensitive patch of nerves that resides there.

“Oh gods—fuck—fuck!” you cry as he continues the repetitive movement of his tongue, waves of pleasure lapping up your spine, sending shivers through your whole body. “Hells Aemond…”

His nose presses against your slippery clit, rubbing against it in a way that stokes the pleasurable fire burning in your belly. His hands hold your thighs open and you throw your head back against the bed as the pressure inside you builds and builds and builds. Your back arches and your thighs tremble in his bruising grasp.

You lean up on your forearms to watch him, his violet eye intently watching your face, studying your reaction. You can tell he’s smug at the effect he’s having on you. He would often get that same look in his eye in class after he proved someone wrong or made a more intelligent point. How you must look to him now; all spread out before him, flushed and slack-jawed, dewy-eyed and pretty. 

You’re a pretty toy to play with. Just want he wanted. 

His tongue leaves your fluttering pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like needy before two fingers sink inside your warmth to replace what he took away. 

Aemond’s tongue returns to its place around your clit as his fingers curve upwards replaying the motion from before. The stimulation now is much harsher, the pads of his fingers dragging effortlessly against your spongy walls, curling with brutal intention; relentlessly pressing against the swelling spot inside of you. 

His warm, wet tongue against your clit only hastens the tightly winding ball of pleasure in your gut and you feel your walls swelling around his fingers as your release knocks the wind out of you. 

You come with a strangled cry, hands gripping the bed sheets as your abdominal muscles contract to the point of pain, all your muscles going taut as warm waves of euphoria rush through you. 

Aemond releases a choked chuckle of appreciation as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He fucks you through it, stretching out the wave of your orgasm until your legs are trembling and the overstimulation causes you to hiss at him.

“Stop, stop, please.”

“Alright…shhh,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound and gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, “There you go, that’s a good girl. You did so well for me.”

You can’t help but warm at his praise, the ringing in your ears fading as your chest swells. Aemond is on you once more, lips pressed to yours the mingled taste of whiskey and you hot on his tongue. 

“Are you going to let me fuck you?” he murmurs between sticky kisses, “Hmm?”

“Aemond…” you breathe into his mouth, hoping that is enough for him.

You can feel him smirk against your lips and know instantly it's not. He tuts disapprovingly, pushing you back against the mattress, his face dipping into the crook of your neck.

“What would Floris say?” he teases, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp. His braid is all but ruined. “I thought you said something earlier,” he continues, nipping and sucking at different spots on your neck, humming with pleasure when he locates a spot that has your back arching. 

“I don’t—”

“Loyalty, I recall,” he purrs, his hand snaking down your side, gripping the meat of your thigh and hoisting it around his waist, “Something like that.”

“Aemond,” you whimper helplessly as he grinds against you, the feeling of his hard cock concealed by his trousers driving you close to madness, “Aemond please.”

“You’re going to have to say it,” he insists, kissing your cheek, “Come on, say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him, “Please Aemond—gods.” 

“They can’t hear you,” he taunts, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, “You’re all mine.”

You frantically nod, nose bumping against his as his lips curl into a greedy smile. He removes his shirt with one hand before he rolls off of you and onto his back, motioning to you with his hands. 

“Go on then,” he says, “Take what you want.”

With shaky hands, you undo his belt above the sizable tent in his pants before dragging the zipper down and releasing his cock. He’s bigger than you expected, both in length and girth, the reddened tip already weeping in anticipation. You stroke his velvety shaft once before he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. 

His hands pull your shirt from your body as you straddle him, his cock nudging at your folds. Aemond’s hands slide up your back, undoing your bra and freeing your breasts. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, hands cupping the sizable mounds, “Gods, you’re so lovely.”

Your face burns at his praise as you raise your hips before gripping him in your hand and guiding him inside of you; gently letting yourself slide down his length, inner walls fluttering around him at the new sensation. Shuddering on top of him you whine at the stretch. “Gods—”

“You can take it,” he murmurs, squeezing you softly in encouragement, “Come on baby, that’s it, just like that.”

Slowly you let him bottom out in your warmth, happily seated on his cock feeling incredibly full. You brace your hands on his chest as he pinches both of your nipples, your jaw slacking in response. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, gauging your reaction as your eyes screw shut.

“That feel good?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper.

“Yes,” you breathe, slowly starting to ride him, hips lifting and returning to his with a soft smack. 

“There she goes,” he murmurs, hands dropping to your hips, squeezing, “Take what you need, gevie.”

A breathless moan escapes you as you ride him, his hands guiding you through the movements. The hum from the music downstairs matches the ringing in your ears. 

Aemond drops his hand from your waist bringing it to the apex of your thighs. His lips part as he watches you rise and fall on his cock, his length coated with your arousal. 

“That’s it,” he coos, his tone bordering on one of condensation, “Just like that—there’s a good girl.” His thumb brushes against your clit as he says it, a broken moan leaving your lips as pleasure ignites your veins. 

His movements are soft, tantalizing, and brutally calculated as he circles the sensitive button; his other hand clings to your waist, hard enough to bruise. Surely they’ll be memories of his touch when you wake; dark purple petals blossoming on your soft flesh at first light. He guides your movements as they become sloppier the closer you get to your release. 

It sends tingles up your spine, your chest and neck growing warmth as you edge closer to the precipice of pleasure.

No other man has made you finish before.

“Are you close?” Aemond murmurs, never stopping his attention to your clit, the subtle movement of his hips thrusting up into you, “I know you are—can feel you clenching around me.”

Your head falls back, mind foggy as you desperately grind against him, trying to ignore the burn in your hamstrings. Aemond’s hand leaves your hip crashing down against your ass with a loud smack. You yelp in surprise, head jerking forward, nails clawing into the hardened muscles of his chest. Aemond’s hand remains where he’d spanked you, fingers curling into the meat of your ass as he releases a breathless laugh; his eye flickers to where your nails dig against his pale flesh, leaving a trail of red behind as they scrape down his chest.

“Answer me,” he demands, and you quickly nod earning another stinging slap, “With your words gevie. Use those pretty lips.”

“Yes,” you practically gasp, “Yes, Aemond I’m close—”

“And you want to cum, don’t you?” he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk, “Do you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes, Aemond please—” the sentence dies with a moan as he plants both feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up against yours at an inhumane pace. Your eyes screw shut, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as all the muscles in your body tense followed by a sudden burst of euphoria pulsing through you. 

Aemond hums in satisfaction as you ride your high, blood rushing in your ears as you shake on top of him, clenching around his thick length. He’s careful to pull his thumb away from your sensitive clit as your eyes flutter open, eyebrows scrunched together at the overstimulation. But his compassion is short-lived as he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back and slotting his body on top of yours. 

His cock is removed for merely a moment at the switch of positions before it’s stretching into your once more earning a sharp gasp. Aemond’s hand covers your mouth in an instant, his face buried in the crook of your neck once more. 

“Shhh,” he coos, placing a kiss under your ear, “Hear that?” he asks, thrusting gently into your warmth causing your eyes to roll back in your head. “Listen.”

His hips continue their gentle roll against yours, slowly stoking the pleasurable fire that is reigniting in your belly. Limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you blink rapidly trying to focus on what he’s asking. 

The music downstairs has died.

“Everyone’s going home,” he murmurs, through another kiss, “We’d best be quick. Would hate for lovely Cerelle to find her pet in such a position.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks and he chuckles, keeping his hand over your mouth as he slings your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot almost lovingly as he drags his cock in and out.

“Keep quiet,” he murmurs, the sound of silence deafening with the lack of music, “Can you do that?” He’s rather cruel with his question, delivering a particularly harsh thrust as he asks, then clicking his tongue in disapproval at your muffled moan. “Thought not.”

So his hand remains as he plows into you, the sounds of your pleasure muffled but still desperate as you claw at his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “Cum for me again, just like that.” His pelvis grazes against your clit, the friction only aiding in his efforts of making you reach your release once more. His violet eye scans your face before he dips to your collarbone, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth and you cum with a desperate cry against his hand. 

“There you go,” he coos, the words breathy and broken his hips faltering as your walls clamp down around him, “Squeezing me so fucking tight—fuck.” He regains his pace with renewed enthusiasm as your walls continue to flutter around him. Aemond removes his hand from your mouth pressing it into the mattress beside your head. 

Nerves raw from the continued stimulation a tear rolls down your cheek as he chases his own release. Aemond leans forward, hot tongue darting out to catch the salty stream as he hums in satisfaction. 

“We’ll have more time next time,” he whispers the promise against your cheek, “I want to explore what other pretty noises you make.” His lips capture yours then, swallowing the whimper you release. 

“I’m very curious,” he murmurs against your lips, slinging your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees back beside your ears. “And I’m very thorough.” A silent scream leaves you as he slams back into you, toes curling as you cum again, vision going white with the force of it. 

Aemond’s hips meet yours a few more times and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you before the warmth of his release fills you to the brim. You’ll need to make a trip to the pharmacy, but you’ll think about that later. He stays like that for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you as you both try to regulate your breathing. 

Aemond lowers your legs gently from around his shoulders and brushes some sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod as he kisses you sweetly.

“Just fucked out,” you assure him, a pleasurable ache radiating down your thighs. Aemond hums, carefully pulling his softening cock from your warmth.

The emptiness takes your breath away as he stands. “Wait here,” he orders, walking towards Cerelle’s bathroom. He returns a moment later, washcloth in hand. You push yourself onto shaky forearms as he carefully cleans the mess between your thighs.

“Thank you,” you tell him, face burning from his attention.

“No need for thanks,” he insists, “It’s the bare minimum.”

“For you maybe.”

Aemond flicks a brow toward his hairline, his violet eye meeting yours. His expression is curious, but you sense he’s not going to push you to elaborate. You hold his gaze. 

Not tonight.

“Are you staying here?” he asks, standing when he’s done, handing you pieces of your clothes.

“I think I have to,” you answer, putting your skirt back on and glancing at the clock, “The last bus is long gone.”

Aemond frowns, reaching for his phone.

“I’ll have my driver take you,” he says, unlocking his screen.

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s no trouble,” he insists, placing the phone against his ear, “Cole. Ten minutes. Thank you.” He hangs up quickly leaving no time to argue.

“Thanks,” you mutter awkwardly while finishing dressing. You walk to Cerelle’s large mirror and attempt to fix your sex hair. Your eyes widen in horror as you tilt your head to the side, leaning closer to get a better look. 

“Aemond,” you hiss, fingers pressing against the three red marks sure to bruise, “I look like I’ve been mauled by a bear.”

Aemond walks up behind you dragging his fingers down the curve of your neck and over your collarbone. Goosebumps appear in their wake. Three more red marks lead a path down to the top of your right breast. Several sizable mouth-shaped love bites. 

Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“Think of them as a gift,” he tells you, the curve of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck.

His hand curves around your waist, the other slinking up to turn your face towards him. He hums appreciatively, kissing your lips, then your cheek. Down your neck to your shoulder. You glance in the mirror once more, catching his eye. 

There’s something new there. Almost possessive. 

His grip on your waist tightens and he presses his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

Outside, snow begins to fall.

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

[svgvru]

𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓 (𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓), 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓 (𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓), 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓─𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓!

🎁 christmas present 4 @sensivs: sub top, m!reader ─ dom bottom, ftm!sukuna ꒰ hein era!sukuna, non-con/dub-con? female + male anatomy described, uraume is helping/ watching so cuck and threesome later?, dacryphilia, sukuna has 2 clits instead of 2 dicks, face sitting, this is totally not inspired by some porn i saw on twt, lmk if there's something else.

"𝗡o, my lord..." Uraume's voice rung out through the large "throne room" Sukuna had built, "I don't believe this man is good at anything." Sukuna's watchful eyes narrow at your trembling form; you sat crouched down before him with bound wrists.

The King of Curses peered down at you with a hum. "No particular skills or nothing?" His gaze was full of judgment and ridicule, "I wonder how he intended to get wife with a list full of incompetence." Uraume nodded at his words, they never particularly liked any of the humans Sukuna thought was worth saving. "Uraume? You cleaned him like I asked?" The servant nodded.

"Yes, my lord," they responded, "Although, I believe a proper concubine would be much more useful than...him, if I am guessing your intentions correctly."

With a glare, Uraume's lips were shut. "Uraume, I suggest you don't push it." Uraume gave him a quick bow, "Apologies, my lord." Their eyes drift to your worried and scared expression before they step back into their place. Your eyes catch the four of Sukuna's rack your form. The lower two are fixed on the only cloth you have on you, covering your groin. Worries filled your head as you look at Sukuna's large form. His four arms were crossed, his legs spread wide as his kimono flowed around him on the cushion his throne. Two curved scars rest under his nipples.

"Hm, perhaps I'll use you for my pleasure," Sukuna spoke with a tilt of his head. "Come here." Uraume's lips twitched in annoyance. They hated when their lord would call upon someone else to serve him in that way. After all of the years, the learning, and memorization, there is no spot on his body they do not know. And yet, he'd choose someone else?

You take hesitant steps toward him, moving your feet faster at his glare. Sukuna studies your timid expression, almost grinning at it. "On your knees," he smirks as you easily follow orders, "Take off my robes."

There's hesitance to your actions as you messily remove his robes with your bound hands. Sukuna watches your chest flutter from your hitched breath. Your eyes are trained on the sight between his legs. His pink pussy is in front of your face; puffy, spread lips─and two red clits were inches from your mouth. Your lips part, tongue tracing the inside of your teeth. "I..."

A sudden loud laugh bursts you out of the thoughts your in.

Your eyes flicker to his face, his twisted smile meeting your face. "Enjoying the view? I thought you hated being in here," Sukuna teases. The King stands up, moving from infront of the cushion. "Lay down on your back. Let's put that tongue to use," he grins, watching your much smaller form lay down on his large cushion.

There was anxiety in your chest as you peered up at him. What if you can't pleasure him? Would be crush you with his weight? He is much larger than you, and he intends to sit on your face.

Sukuna smirks as he watches your lips part, mouth opened wide for him.

You close your eyes, feeling the plush skin of his ass envelope your face. His slick touches your tongue, his hips rock side to side as your lips swiping along his puffy folds. Sukuna smirks, his larger eyes locking onto Uraume's heated face, his smaller eyes looking down at your growing bulge.

The sounds of your rough breathing, eager mouth, and whimpers are music to his ears. "Come now, you can do better. Please me," Sukuna growls. "Ngh─ah...yes!"

The rocking of his gets rougher, your lips mouthing as his dripping cunt. Your tongue dipping inside of him, slurping up his slick. You moan into his skin; your eyes cross at his taste, bound hands slipping under your loincloth to stroke your hardening cock. It was baffling to you. You, are beneath the King of Curses, eating him out. His thighs shake around your from and you can tell he's close.

Your fingers touch your sensitive tip, loud whines coming from you, grunts coming the man above you.

Until you feel a large, calloused hand grasp your own. "Ah, ah...I didn't say you could please yourself, did I?" Sukuna grins, "I have other plans for this..." Sukuna licks his lips, grinning at the size of your cock he feels. The King sucks in a breath rotating his hips on your mouth. "Ah, glad you can be of─use," he grits his teeth, hips stuttering as he cums on your mouth. "Yeah, swallow it for me."

Sukuna sucks in a breath, eyes crossing as your tongue flicks along his sensitive clits, prolonging his orgasm. "Oh...yes," he growls with tensing thighs, suffocating you.

When he lifts his hips from your face he smirks, his hands still covering your throbbing cock. Your face in bliss, panting with his release covering your face. Sukuna laughs at your expression. "Almost came from eating me out? Hm," Sukuna lets go of your hands and simply tears the flimsy loincoth you wore, "Now use your cock to fuck me."

He lays down next to you on his side; his back faces you. "Come now, don't make me do all of the work," the man grumbles as he feels your cock pressing against his ass.

You gulp; you try and shift your hips to get your cock closer to his waiting pussy, and to no avail with your bound hands pressed to his back. Sukuna sighs and reaches between his spread legs, his hand engulfing your small cock (at least compared to him). He slips your cock between his wet folds, grunting as he feels you inside of him. "Mm, yeah..." Sukuna takes a breath, adjusting for a second, "Now move."

"M-mhm!" you whimper at the feeling of him. You drag your hips from his before slamming them back against him, feeling the warmth of his pussy coat your cock.

Sukuna bites back a moan, giving your cock a quick squeeze. Your hips brush against the cushion every time you retract them from him. Sukuna's face was in a frown twisted in pleasure. "Fuck," he whispers as your increasing pace, "Harder." String of moans and whimpers leave your bitten lips. The sounds of his wet pussy squelching around your cock fills your ears. "Sukuna," you moan, obliging with his request, fucking his pussy like he needs.

His hands are resting behind his neck as you hammer his pussy. There's a wave of feeling from his stomach to his thighs; he feels his orgasm coming close, but somethings mission.

"Shit─" Sukuna grits his teeth, "Uraume!"

"Yes, my lord?" Uraume steps up, their jaw locked at the sound of their lords moans, and the use of this pathetic "servant" defiling a king with his cock. Sukuna lets out a breathy moan, "Please me. Surely your mouth and hands can be of use other than for cooking."

"Yes, my lord." Uraume moves towards him, fingers ghosting his pale skin. Sukuna's chest shudders; his hips stutter at Uraume's touch. One of their hands rub circles on one of his wet clits; their mouth licking at the top one, lips encasing it with warmth. Sukuna's hips twitch as Uraume's lips suck on one, their thumb rubbing his exposed clit. It doesn't help that his ears pick up on the quiet sobs from behind him. He felt the wetness of your tears touch his toned back.

Regardless, of if you felt good or hated this, your cries only served to further his orgasm. Uraume hated it.

"Mmph─fuck," Sukuna whispers, one of his large hands delicately rest on the back of Uraume's head...the opposite of his roughness with you. "More, Uraume...more."

Uraume's jaw relaxes licks and sucking at his clits, the tip of their tongue ghosting along your cock. "S-Shit─" they hear you whisper in Sukuna's back. Your hips stutter against Sukuna, both of you are close. "May I? Please," you whimper in a sob. Sukuna's pussy tightens around you, "Fuck─yes!" Uraume's tongue swipes and wraps around one of his clits. They were sensitive, both of them. Uraume was quite surprised Sukuna's lasting so long. Perhaps because your here? Normally, he'd let it all go in front of Uraume...perhaps it was his title as king.

"Cum, my lord. Please," Uraume mumbles around his clits. Sukuna's gentle hand slightly tightens around Uraume as his pussy tightens.

A string of moans leaves your lips, a loud groan leaving Sukuna's as you release inside of him. His bottom lip catches behind his teeth, the large mouth on his stomach pants as he milks you dry. His pussy spasming on your cock. "Ngh─yeah...just like that!" Sukuna creams coating your cock and thighs in his release. His eyes rolled and tongue lolled at the feeling of your cum filling him. Uraume can feel their own arousal pooling at the sight and taste of their king, but that waits until later. Now, they simply need to help him come down from his high.

He feels your cock soften inside of him, slipping out with a wet squelch. Sukuna's chest rises up and down, "Uraume..."

As if reading his mind, Uraume jumps to help him come down, cleaning him while glaring towards you. You whose panting and covered in Sukuna's cum. Sukuna hums at his soon clean and fixed form. Uraume bows, pleased to have pleaured their lord. Sukuna looks at Uraume, one of his hands softly rubs their head before giving a command. With a quick glance to you, he orders...

"Clean him up. Perhaps I'll milk him more."

seen a lack of sukupussy. therefore, here.

taglist: @pulpbeing @flimsyichigo @icaruien @whiteholesun @ambro-main @astroknottt

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do it With a Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

NOW POSTED

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Excerpt here:

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be this gorgeous, it’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.” 

He dusts the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.” 

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?” 

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.” 

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.” 

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to class its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will. 

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?” 

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?” 

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tilted floors and fall into the depths of hell. 

“She asked you out?” 

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!” 

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per say. But a sweet girl like Chrissy, one that bore pretty blonde curls, a sweet smile and a sweet disposition, this is like your worst nightmare come true. 

Thanks to the notion of living in a small town, you could recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out. 

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing. 

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, watching in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.” 

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?”

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.” 

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this isn’t a new habit of his. 

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?” 

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you tried to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing. 

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what is probably another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed. 

You smoked more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself. 

-

Final word count is about 24k so I think I'll post on the 15 to give my editor a fighting chance. If you want to be tagged let me know <3

[7brownsuga7]

Ghostface killer pt.2

Jungkook x fem reader

Kinktober

Ghost face killer pt.1 here

Word count: 759

Genre: smut drabble - minors DNI

Summary: Everyone has a Scream movie marathon in the living room totally oblivious to Jungkook who sneakily fucks you on the sofa

Warnings: Fluff, smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, sneaky sex, public sex, taboo, orgasm

Notes: I wanted to upload this before October ends, enjoy ;) (I LITERALLY CANT STOP WRITING ABOUT JUNGKOOK!!! LIKE HELP ME PLS IM BEGGING!!!! IM TRYING TO WRITE FOR OTHER MEMBERS BUT I KEEP ON HAVING IDEAS FOR HIM FUCKKK!!! *rips off shirt and transforms into a wolf *)

Jungkook. The man that’s full of surprises and pent up sexual frustration has found his way to sneakily fuck you while everyone else is in the living room in the middle of a scream marathon.

Apparently he could care less about the franchise and has more of an interest in fucking you while you sit on his lap softly moving your hips around his cock.

He must have some interest in the film because his ghostface costume had made a return. You could never describe the excitement it brings you when he fucks you in his mask. You never knew you had a mask kink until Jungkook brought it out of you. But now as your pussy stretches for his thick length, you wonder if it’s the mask or just him.

Probably both.

It’s risky fucking In front of other people, but with everyone’s attention on the film, the intoxication in the room, and both of you sitting away from everyone with yours and Jungkooks black cloaks helping hide the movements, it’s pretty worth it. Especially when he fills you up like that, his hands on your waist guiding you around his length. His soft grunts make you lift yourself up a bit and slowly sit back down, still trying not to gain attention from anyone in the room.

Your moans fill the small area as your head tries to adjust to your senses, while he still makes it his point to fuck you recklessly, moving his waist along with your movements. You can feel him all around you and inside you, moving so gracefully with so much precision you’re sure he’s a sex god, or just trying to kill you, or both. You feel him on your body, his hot touch seeping into your skin and through your veins, as he holds your waist and runs his fingers up your spine, his hips working up to meet your movements. You crave for more of him even though he’s as close as he can get. His scent works its way around you and through you, slowly invading your senses and working its way to your head, nothing else makes any sense in this moment, but him and his touch and smell and everything that is him.

You haven’t uttered a single word since he slipped his dick into you, honestly too fucked out to do so. He enters you with so much precision that you’re sure your orgasm is already approaching. The wetness around your cunt and your thighs just proves it. Luckily the large black cloak covers your exposed pussy and his cock.

You lean back against his chest, becoming tired too quickly. His hands hold your hands that are placed on either side of you on the sofa for support. His thumb gently stroking the top of your hand, despite the increasing force of his hips. You bite your bottom lip to suppress any sounds leaving your mouth. When his hands move under your cloak to rub your clit, you’re sure he wants people to find out what you’re doing as you gasp with shock and pleasure.

He rubs your clit, his cock still stuffing you whole as his movements continue. Your legs close as you can feel your orgasm suddenly approach. “I want you to cum for me okay? Make as much noise as you can” he whispers in your ear and you look back at him in shock.

“What? Are you crazy?” And you’re sure he is when he adds pressure to your clit and his hips move at an increasing speed. You can’t do anything but restlessly sit on his lap with his cock inside you as it works in and out of you.

Your thighs are still tightly shut as your orgasm approaches as quick as ever.

It’s like he times it, when you softly squeal due to the orgasm and overstimulation on your clit when ghostface comes on screen and kills one of the characters. Your moans are muffled by the loud music and the slight chatter in the room.

“Mmmh, that’s it let it out baby, good girl”

Your hand covers your mouth as the scene ends and a quieter scene approaches. You shudder, the chills running down your spine at the sensation of your orgasm and him inside of you.

“Good girl, you got it, let it out” his voice is soothing in your ears.

And in that moment you wonder who’s the real killer, the one in the film or him, because he’s really killed you tonight for sure.

[honeylations]

HUH YUNJIN x FEM!READER

Prompt: With Le Sserafim in New York and you coincidentally having a runway show, she makes the time to meet up with you

Warnings/Notes: G!p Yunjin, eventual smut, model reader, golden retriever Yunjin

“So I have a confession to make” Yunjin randomly blurts out during game night in some New York Hotel.

Sakura had just rolled the monopoly dice and took hold of her cat piece. “What is it?”

“You’re gay?” Eunchae sarcastically question, earning an eye roll from the American.

“We’ve established that already, yes, but no that’s not what I was gonna say”

“It better be worth pausing this Monopoly game because I am becoming richer by the second” Chaewon smirked and showed off her buildings in majority of the board.

“So I have a girlfriend” Yunjin breathed out, feeling the weight roll off her shoulders.

The red head doesn’t know why she felt the need to keep it a secret from her girls. It wasn’t like she was scared that they wouldn’t support her, it was more of the fact that she gets nervous about almost anything.

And Eunchae may also be a little of bit of a big mouth.

Once a small detail goes through the maknae’s ear, the whole kpop industry suddenly knows.

“Oh? Congratulations Yunjin!” Kazuha applauded excitedly, even giving her member a quick hug.

“I’m surprised you can even pull” Chaewon teased, feeling a wad of monopoly cash slapped in her face. “Ow!”

“Eat shit. Anyways, she’s super awesome~”

This particular side of Yunjin was an easy way for the members to bully her love struck puppy personality and Yunjin knew she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

“What’s her name?” Eunchae was the one to ask, already planning on texting Kyujin about the news.

Yunjin fiddled with her fingers and giggled like a school girl. “Park Y/n”

All girls sat up on their knees with eyes wider than saucers. “WHAT???”

“THE MODEL?”

“THAT HOTTIE?”

“Kill yourself Yunjin, there’s no way you’re dating THE PARK Y/N”

Yunjin slapped Chaewon with the monopoly cash again, tired of her teasing. “If you don’t believe me, she’s having a runway show tomorrow night. You can come with if you’d like. She can get us front row seats”

The eyes have gone wider and jaws were dropped.

“FRONT ROW TICKETS TO A RUNWAY SHOW?!?!” Sakura jumped up and about, squealing so high that the windows shook.

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll message Y/n and let her know” Yunjin said with a smile.

“It’s a coincidence that you both are in New York right now” The leader hummed and took her turn in rolling the dice.

She did a small fist pump when it landed on a double 6.

“Yeah I know, I’m just as surprised as you are. I’m planning to take her out on a date here soon and even introduce her to my family”

“Awwww our Yunjinie is such a good girlfriend~” Sakura smirked and playfully shook the taller member around.

Kazuha did a small applause. “I can’t wait to see her on the runway!”

The following night of the said Runway Show…

“Yunjin can you sit still?” Chaewon had hissed.

Chaewon could’ve been louder but she’d make a total fool of herself in front of the entire audience as the show was going. Well, not much of a fool as Yunjin right now.

The red head was fussing about in her seat, trying her best to get a clear view of whenever your turn was.

Which was literally in a second.

As you began strutting down with you beautiful model face, Yunjin squealed and started shaking her sign around that read: ‘I LUV Y/N <3’

“Wooohooooo! Go baby! You look so beautiful! Oh wow yayyyyy!~”

The Le Sserafim girls looked at their American member in disbelief. Did she suddenly forget she was an idol too?

“Huh Yunjin just how unprofessional are you gonna get?! Give me that and sit still!!” Chaewon growled, snatching the poster from Yunjin.

“Whatever. My girlfriend’s turn is over anyways” The red head grumbled before pursing her lips and waiting for the rest of the show to finish.

It felt like hours for Yunjin, but within minutes you had your bag over your shoulder and approaching your girlfriend and her group.

“Bebby!~” Yunjin made grabby hands and ran to you like an actual puppy seeing its owner.

Which was not much of a surprise for anyone.

“Must you be so loud whenever I’m on the runway? Be professional next time” You scolded but also melted into your girlfriend’s embrace where her large hands rested on your small waist.

She was squishing her cheek against your head and slowly pulled back with imaginary flat guilty ears. Her boba eyes grew wider and your body melted further. It was hard trying to maintain your nonchalant personality when your girlfriend was this fricking cute.

“I’m sorry bebby. I couldn’t help it. You look so pretty…I mean you always look pretty hehe”

You tried to be annoyed by her unprofessionalism but your smirk ruined it.

And Yunjin’s abrupt peck to your lips. “Mwah! Love you bebby”

“Ugh Yunjin quit being a love sap and introduce us to your girlfriend” You heard Chaewon hiss from afar.

“Right. Bebby, this is Kim Chaewon, our leader. Her temper is as short as her height-OW!”

“Piece of shit” The short blonde gritted her teeth when she slapped the back of Yunjin’s head.

“This is Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest. Then there’s me, your cute adorable girlfriend. And then Nakamura Kazuha, our Samoyed”

“Samoyed?” You repeated in question with a smile.

“Apparently that’s how my personality is” Kazuha shrugged and grinned, letting you slowly see why she got the title.

“Last but not least our baby girl, Hong Eunchae! We spoil her with love”

You softly pinched the youngest’s cheek and smiled at her giggle. “Definitely deserves to be spoilt. It’s a pleasure to finally meet Le Sserafim” you spoke calmly.

“Congrats on your runway event Y/n, you looked beautiful” Kazuha complimented sweetly.

“Thank you Kazuha, I’m glad you liked it. Yunjin told me you’d all be in New York so I thought it would be nice to get you girls a gift” you said with a smile and your manager instantly appeared with 4 bags of designer items that you collaborated with.

“Oh wow these are limited edition! Thank you so much Y/n Unnie!” Eunchae squealed with eyes as bright as the sun.

You would’ve thought she was Yunjin’s sister from how big her smile was. “You’re welcome Eunchae. Enjoy your time in New York”

“I will Unnie, I really will!”

“I’ll be going out with Y/n tonight for our date, I’ve already informed Manager-nim” Yunjin quickly reminded to Chaewon specifically in hopes she wouldn’t go ballistic but the leader hummed and nodded anyways.

“No worries. We’ll get going now. Oh and Yunjin-ah” Chaewon quickly called.

Yunjin’s brow raised in curiosity. “Hm?”

“Don’t stay out too late okay? We got content to film”

Yunjin saluted like a dork. “Ay ay captain!”

“Idiot. Take care and it was lovely meeting you Y/n!”

You waved at the girls but could feel Yunjin’s puppy eyes on you again. “What are you staring at?”

“Just how beautiful my girlfriend is. I love you bebby” she said and kissed your temple.

“Ugh. I love you too. Now where are you taking me tonight hm? You look so handsome” you smirked up at her and adjusted her blue button up long sleeve which was open at the collar.

“It’s a surprise bebby. This night will be memorable”

Well Yunjin wasn’t technically lying when she said memorable. She took you to a beautiful Italian restaurant, then surprising you with a bouquet of roses, and finally taking you on a walk by the beach where the moon shined bright.

Of course it wasn’t gonna just end there.

Because now you found yourself riding your girlfriend’s big cock in your hotel room. Both of your clothes thrown somewhere you’d have to dig through later but right now you were focused on milking your sexy girlfriend and the way she was STILL looking at you with those boba eyes.

“F-Fuck, stop looking at me like that” you moaned.

“Mmm, can’t help it. My girl is just so pretty riding me”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you clawed onto her shoulder harder, feeling the tip of her dick reach deeper into your pussy. “You drive me crazy, baby”

Not needing to say another word, Yunjin quickly admired the hickeys she scattered all over your neck and collarbones, then giving into her cravings of your lips. She made the kiss slow, letting her tongue work around yours and felt the movement of your hips falter.

But your tone got louder, shamelessly moaning into your girlfriend’s mouth that some of your saliva went down your chin.

“Tired, Princess?” She whispered into your mouth.

You nodded at her, being enough of a sign for Yunjin to lift you up and make you lay face first and ass up. You supported your balance by leaning on your elbows and looking back at your girlfriend who rubbed your ass and inserting her fat cock back inside your sopping cunt.

“A-Ah!”

“Always tight for me aren’t you, Y/n? My good girl”

You moaned into the sheets from the use of your name instead of her usual nickname for you. One of the things you loved so much about Yunjin was how different she was during sex. She can be vanilla if she wanted to, but Yunjin thought where the fun was in that?

She loved making you wither under her touch. Hearing you cry for her name and beg for her to please you in all the right ways.

“Mmhm right there baby!” You screamed at the inhumane pace Yunjin was going at, the slapping sounds echoing throughout the room (and probably even outside the entire hotel).

Yunjin towered her body over your back and trailed kisses at your jaw, feeling her smile against your skin. “Your pussy is sucking me in so nice, baby. Gonna fill it up with so much of my cum. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, clearly too tired to properly answer and the abrupt hold on your jaw made your eyes go wide. Yunjin squeezed your mouth open. “Open up and tongue out, darling”

Doing so, the red head spat on your tongue and forcefully closed your mouth before holding your throat. “Swallow.”

She hummed in satisfaction at your obedience, the knot in her stomach growing. “Hmm fuck, gonna cum Princess”

“Yes yes please cum in me, Yunnie” you mumbled with tears.

Yunjin was panting in your ear before releasing an aggressive groan, her hips snapping in a harsh but slower pace as she reached her peak. You felt the warm flood of cum fill your needy pussy to the brim, Yunjin then slowly pulling herself out to watch your creamy pussy leak.

“So hot” you exhaled, using two fingers to scoop the liquid and popping them into your mouth. “So tasty”

Yunjin guided you to lay your body down with your head on her chest, then pulling the covers over your sweaty bodies. She kissed your head and spent a few minutes helping you calm down by rubbing circles on your back. “You okay, bebby?”

“Yeah. We haven’t fucked in so long, I almost passed out”

“I missed you so much, bebby. Sorry we haven’t been going out lately”

You shook your head and placed multiple kisses on your girlfriend’s face. “Don’t apologise, my love. We still call all the time so just hearing your voice brings me satisfaction”

Yunjin smiled at your words. “Did you want to join us tomorrow? We won’t show your face on the cameras. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care about anything else”

“You know I have a photoshoot tomorrow, babe and plus I think your fans will go on a killing spree if they see us together”

Yunjin pouted. “I won’t let them touch you, bebby. I’ll use my magic force field to protect you”

You laughed into her neck and pinched her sides. “You’re such a dork”

“A dork you’re super in love with, am I right?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Yes. A dork I’m super duper in love with”

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 04/Oct/2024 

It wasn’t the week I planned, but oh boy, was it another seriously productive week!

I started on finishing up the chapter 4 edits and rewrites, getting those done just as my editor sent through the chapter 3 edits! So, I figured seeing as I was on an editing spree, I would skip the social media days this week and just slam through all of that to get it done.

So there were no asks this week, but I did get the first Autumn Scenario Specials up—always fun to write a soft!M, but even more so in this cosy season, hehe! ;D

And it was totally worth focusing on the edits as I got all of it finished, including bug testing chapter 4 too! I’ll be sending my edited version of chapter 4 to my editor to do the final tidy-ups, and chapter 3 is also now ready to send for the final phase to the last set of readers and sensitivity readers to be completed.

There was the weirdest bug ever in chapter 3, but was eventually sorted super easily, but it did have me puzzled for a while, lol!

So, with all of that done way quicker than expected, I moved onto writing the next chapter too! And I’m already slamming through that :D

Chapter 5 is definitely more intensive than the nice smooth, shortness of Chapter 4, but there’s a lot going on again, as well as the variations of meetings with some recurring characters, so got to make sure those make an impact! ;D

So yeah, it was quite the week!

But to make up for not doing social media days, I will be spending most of next week making up for that. I’m actually hoping to spend more time on those so I can get October’s and November’s content done in one, as I am thinking of something a bit more intensive and fun for December…but I need time to pull it off, so getting ahead on social media now will mean I will hopefully get the chance to what I’m excited for!

And because I totally forgot to detail the last upcoming set of Scenario Specials on Patreon, here is the list of the love interest poll winners and the word prompts, as well as when they’re coming up!

-

‘Embrace, Coffee, Wind’ —Mason/Morgan Autumn Scenario Special (02/Oct/2024)

‘Cinnamon, Chill, Cobblestone’ — Adam/Ava Autumn Scenario Special (09/Oct/2024)

‘Gold, Indoor, Socks’ — Nate/Nat Autumn Scenario Special (23/Oct/2024) 'Scarf, Lake, Umber' - Felix/Farah Autumn Scenario Special (16/Oct/2024)

‘Spooky, Fall, Basket’ – Li-Sar Autumn Scenario Special (30/Oct/2024)

-

Sorry for the essay of an update this week! But it did feel good to get so much ticked off the checklist in one go that I had to share my happiness, hehe! :D

Hope you all have the most fabulous weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part five)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+ for smut (zach is subby and packing) (and you can’t convince me otherwise)

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two | three | four

» masterlist

The setting sun is an orange sliver behind the clouds over the lake, promising a colder night as you sit by the campfire.

It’s been another tiring day and lights out can’t come soon enough. You check the time on your phone to see you have twenty minutes left of free time before campers retire to their cabins.

Zach sits across the fire pit with Malcolm, surrounded by chattering kids.

“It’d be nice if our campers actually wanted to spend time with us,” Ami says to you quietly, sitting next to you.

You laugh, noticing that a lot of your girls are sitting around Zach and Malcolm, talking and staring at them in awe. They’re not subtle at all.

“I have so much to tell you, by the way,” she adds.

“About…?” you ask, your eyes inconspicuously drifting towards Malcolm.

“Yeah,” she says. “He came over when you and Zach went on your little date.”

You laugh again to cover your nerves. Ami was already asleep when you made it to your cabin last night. This morning, you briefly chatted with her about how you ran an errand in town with Zach, making it sound as boring as possible.

You’re still putting up the front that you have no romance between you. You’re not sure you’re doing such a convincing job and it’s been feeding your anxiety.

“We went shopping for work,” you reiterate. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure,” she replies, unconvinced. “He’s totally looking at you like you’re a friend right now.”

You glance up to meet Zach’s gaze, the corner of his lips quirked up, his eyes on you. You smile at him and look at Ami again. You haven’t told her a thing. Not even that you and Zach confessed your feelings for each other.

Admittedly, it’d be nice to be able to gush with Ami about your flings. She’s become a good friend over the two weeks you’ve been working at the camp and she tells you everything about Malcolm. But you respect Zach too much to give in.

“Okay, maybe there’s a tiny possibility we like each other, but we’re not doing anything about it,” you offer quietly. “So, what happened?”

“I’ll tell you tonight,” she says.

You nod. You already decided that when you get to your cabin, you’ll tell her that you’re going to the dining hall to have a video call with friends. If she insists you stay, you’ll say you’ll be loud and you don’t want to bother her in case it goes late.

In reality, you’re planning to go to Zach’s cabin tonight. He’ll have the place to himself. And you can hardly wait.

It’s complicated and a bit guilt-inducing to be lying so much, but when you glance across the fire again and see Zach’s bright smile, you know he and his comfort are worth it.

Ami falls into conversation with another counselor and you text Zach to tease him: what’s with the staring? you’re making it a little obvious maclaren.

It’s not until after lights out when Malcolm leaves their shared cabin for his shift that Zach showers, tidies up, sits on his bed and pulls his phone out to text you that he realizes you texted him a while ago.

He’s been riddled with anticipation all day. It’s been hard to focus. You didn’t exactly directly confirm you’d be coming over tonight, but it seemed to be an unspoken plan between you two.

And the fact that you bought condoms last night has been turning over and over in his head. He won’t rush you, he wouldn’t dream of it, but he hopes tonight is the night.

He replies to you: I can’t stare at you? Come on. You’re asking for the impossible here.

And because he can’t wait, he texts again: You want to come over tonight?

Five minutes pass. Then, ten. All he has left to do is reread his texts to you. Maybe he came across too strong.

Come to think of it, your first text calling him out for staring could have been serious. What if you’re not teasing, but actually upset with him?

He’s drafting a text to apologize if he said anything wrong, but you reply: be there soon.

When you knock on Zach’s door, he opens it within seconds and you rush inside.

“Sorry,” you tell him, pulling him in for a hug. “Ami was filling me in on some stuff.”

“All good,” Zach says, although in reality, he was kind of freaking out. He leans to kiss your forehead and his body warms when you tighten your arms around his torso. “Where’d you say you’re going?”

“Taking a call.” You squeeze him once more, his body firm against you, before leaning back to cup his face and pull him down towards you.

Your kiss is gentle, its tenderness proof of just how much you’ve missed him. All the tension in his body fades like you’re pulling him out of a bad dream. He’s relieved that things between you are okay. Your touch shows that you’re still in this like he is.

“Hi,” you whisper in relief.

“Hey, baby.” His deep voice is like velvet, the word spilling out of his mouth as if he’s called you that a million times before.

“How was your day?” you ask.

“This is the best part of it,” he replies. You smile and kiss him again.

When you settle on Zach’s bed, sitting across from each other, you look around his small cabin, laid out like yours, items neatly tucked away.

“Thought you said you were messy,” you say, playfully pushing his shoulder.

Zach takes the opportunity to hold your hand, cupping it, stroking his thumb over your fingers in his lap.

He gazes at you, at how effortlessly pretty you look in your comfy clothes, at how quickly you make his blood go hot and his body go tense just from a hug and a few kisses.

“I cleaned up,” he says. “Think I’ll have to mess it up again so Malcolm doesn’t get suspicious, though.”

“I wonder if he and Ami talk about us,” you say. “She’s been teasing me about liking you ever since our first night here.”

“Did you? Like me then?” Zach flirts.

You look down, smiling shyly, thinking back to the night you kicked the ball around under the starry sky, getting to know each other, bodies lightly brushing together.

“Yeah,” you confess. “Did you?”

“I liked you since you told me there was only one fork left.”

“So, the first thing I said to you?” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Zach brings your hand up against his chest as he feigns offense. You laugh together and he dips his head to kiss the back of your hand, eyes locked on yours.

He’s acting like he couldn’t wait to get you alone again. You feel the same way. It’s ridiculously hard being in the same vicinity all day and having to act like you haven’t kissed or touched each other.

Now, he’s merely inches away, his heartbeat pounding against your palm, the tension between you thickening by the second.

Zach lowers your hand on his bed. His blanket is soft. His stare is tender. You look down at the way his big hand covers yours and you quickly notice the thick ridge of his erection beneath his sweatpants.

It makes the coil in you tighten, knowing he’s already as turned on as you are. You discreetly feel for the condom in your pocket to make sure it’s still there.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Zach offers, tilting his head towards his desk. You see his laptop propped open.

You smile, endeared over how considerate he is not to rush anything, especially when he’d so clearly do something else.

The other night in your bed has been on your mind. He was so hard and so big in your hand that your heart is already hammering at the thought of seeing him naked, of feeling him inside you.

“Sure,” you simply say.

He asks you what you’d like to watch and you pick one of the first movies you see, figuring you won’t be watching much of it anyway.

You lie on your side in his bed as he queues up the movie and tilts the laptop screen towards you. The smell of his strong, calming body wash wafts over you as he settles behind you.

Zach plants a kiss on your shoulder once he props himself onto the pillow, curling behind you. He knows you can feel how hard he is, but before he can worry about you feeling uneasy, he reminds himself of how much you’ve reassured him that you want him, too.

“You’re the big spoon type?” you ask with a soft chuckle as he shuffles into position.

“You sound surprised,” Zach mumbles behind you.

“So, you don’t want to be the little spoon? Ever?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” he replies, earning another giggle from you.

The movie’s opening credits roll over the screen, but all you can focus on is the sensation of Zach’s large hand against your thigh, dragging to cup the crook of your hip as he pulls your body against him.

You arch your back to press against his hard length. His hold on your hip tightens, a shudder leaving his lips.

Zach tries to concentrate on the movie, but he’s so hard that it aches. His eyes refuse to look at the screen; they want to trail over the peaks and valleys of your body, to take in your pretty face.

He shifts to nuzzle against your hair, relaxing simply from the smell of your shampoo. His palm glides up past your hip, over your tummy, resting right under your breasts, where he can feel the wire of your bra beneath the thin fabric of your shirt.

Your stomach rises and falls, his hand moving with every one of your breaths. Having to keep a distance from you all day is hard. Being this close and not touching you how he wants to be touching you is somehow even harder.

All Zach can do is shut his eyes as he nuzzles in and expels warm breaths against the back of your ear. He tells himself to just cuddle you for now, to go slow.

“I feel like I can’t get the smell of campfire out of my hair,” you admit with a laugh. “Sorry if it-”

“No, no, you smell good,” he mumbles. He glides his hand back and forth across your waist and slowly presses his lips against the side of your neck.

You bite your lip, lowering your palm over your stomach. Zach quickly raises his hand, clearly concerned he did something wrong, serving as a reminder to you of how much he appreciates your direction and praise.

“It’s okay,” you say. He realizes you’re lifting up your shirt. “You can touch me if you want to.”

You guide his hand under your top, feeling his palm on your breast. Warmth pools in your stomach when he almost inaudibly groans.

“If I want to?” he whispers with a nervous chuckle. “Of course I want to.”

He gently squeezes, swallowing the lump in his throat as the soft cup of your bra bunches between his fingers.

His touch is soothing, his breath ragged. He spends so much time slowly massaging you that it begins to feel like torture to not have him making direct contact.

You’re sure that he can feel how hard your nipples are under your bra, but you let him decide the pace this time, let him decide when you can move to the next step.

“Can I take this off?” Zach finally asks, his hand skimming over your bra strap.

You wriggle to pull your top off then lean forward, your back still to him.

“Yes,” you say with a note of relief.

Zach plants wet kisses on your bare shoulder as his hands wander to the back of your bra, unhooking and guiding the straps down your arms. You press your back up to him again once your bra hits the floor.

He feels your bare breast against his hand and he’s thrown back into how nice the swells of your flesh felt in his mouth, how hard and perfect your nipples were against his tongue.

He stimulates you with gentle pinches, kneading softly, making you buck your hips back against him.

“God, I love these,” Zach rasps, fondling you. “I just…” He trails into silence.

“What?” you breathe.

He only kisses your shoulder again as he continues to touch you, his cock twitching against you.

You turn to face him and Zach doesn’t waste a second. His lips are soft and wet when they press against yours as he drags his thumb back and forth over your nipple.

You pull back, nose nudging against his.

“You just what? You can tell me,” you reassure him softly.

His heart is racing, wishing a part of him wasn’t still scared that he’s too much for you, that how deeply he feels for you will freak you out. He’s never thought of himself as an insecure person, but right now, one negative word from you could shatter him.

Goosebumps bloom over his skin when you caress his jaw, your hand against his cheek. He’ll say what he’s thinking, even though he’s afraid.

“I just want to make you feel good,” Zach says.

You smile, tilting your head to kiss him again.

“You are,” you say when your mouths part. “All I ever feel with you is good.”

Your words make him dizzy, pushing him to capture your lips again, rougher this time. When his tongue dips into your mouth, you let out a moan that makes him feel like he might go crazy.

Zach sucks your bottom lip as you tug at his shirt, willing him to pull back and take the clothing off. His shirt falls onto the floor behind you with a soft thud and he pulls you tight against him, the sensation of his bare, hard chest against yours utterly perfect as he kisses you.

You’re lost in the moment, making out slowly and heavily. The sounds of your hungry kisses and the movie playing and the wind rustling through the trees just outside his window fill your ears.

You eventually shift to straddle him, coming up for air as you sit up, thighs locked around his hips. Zach gazes up at you in awe, eyes drifting up and down, taking in your every feature.

You can feel how soaked your panties are now that you’re settled on him. You drink in the planes of his muscles and the ridges of his abs and the line of hair below his bellybutton that trails down past the elastic of his sweatpants.

You knew he was muscular, but it’s surprising how much he’s hiding under his shirt. As you look down at his half-naked form, you take in how every plane and edge of his is hard and sharp, except for his eyes. They’re always kind, looking at you softly like you can do no wrong.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and smile lazy. He cups your hips gently, biting his lip as he gazes at your breasts.

“Hi,” you breathe.

“You’re so pretty,” Zach whispers, his half-lidded eyes and messy hair and swollen lips the picture of drunken bliss. You thank him through a soft laugh.

You can feel it in the air that he wants to go all the way, too. But to be sure, you dip into your pocket to pull out the condom.

“Do you want to?” you ask, holding it between your fingers.

“Yes,” he says, paired with fast nods. “Do you?”

“Yes,” you say with a small smile.

“I never go this fast,” he admits impulsively. He typically dates a girl for at least a month before he takes this big a step. But things just feel so right with you. He can’t resist you. He doesn’t want to.

“If at any point, you want to stop-”

“Trust me, I won’t want to stop,” he interrupts.

You giggle at his enthusiasm, leaning over to kiss him again, your hands splayed on his hard chest, the wrapper of the condom crinkling.

“Same for you, okay?” Zach says. “We’ll stop if you want to stop. I won’t be mad.”

You laugh again against his lips.

“What?” he says, amused.

“I kind of can’t imagine you being mad at me.”

Zach smirks, his hands gliding up the curve of your spine. He’s completely weak for you. He’s okay that you can tell.

“Me, neither.”

Your lips meet again and a gentle whine escapes his mouth when you thread your fingers through his hair, grinding against him.

His hands drag down to your ass, squeezing. Another groan sounds from the back of his throat as you roll your hips over him, his cock hard against your middle.

He can’t even control his own body, his hips involuntarily bucking up towards you. His pants feel tight against his erection, the sweet friction of you grinding making his muscles weak.

His throat tightens when he feels you shuffling to take your pants off.

“Let me help,” Zach whispers. “Please.”

“So sweet,” you praise as his thumbs hook under the band, pushing your pants down your thighs. Your words make him move even faster.

Your pants are soon bunched at the end his bed and you straddle him again, left only in your underwear. Zach inhales sharply when he feels the bare curve of your ass without much fabric left in the way.

He sighs in satisfaction, groping you, pushing against you so that you’ll grind at the pace he wants you to, offering him a little more relief.

You lean back down to kiss him and eventually perch up on your knees to tug down his sweats, leaving him in his boxers. You palm him, feeling the wet drop of precome he left on the soft cotton.

You meet his eyes, his desperation for you clear. He’s completely at your beck and call, hanging on what you’ll do next. You’ve never had this much power over anyone before.

You want to please him just as much as he wants to please you. You tilt closer to him again, your cheek pressed against his, knowing how much he loves to be complimented.

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you murmur in his ear.

“Shit,” Zach says with a disbelieving chuckle. He’s in heaven. “Repeat that for me.”

“You like hearing how bad I want you?” you say, dipping a hand in his boxers. He nods wordlessly, too in awe to speak, and when you feel his cock in your hand, the desire deep in you pricks every inch of your skin, your stomach twisting.

You start to stroke him gently and heat rushes through his body. He’s never had someone know how to talk to him. He’s always been a bit embarrassed of how much praise he wants.

Other than offering gentle encouragement, he typically stays quiet during sex, never asking for compliments even though he desperately wants them. But you give him what he needs so effortlessly, understanding him in his entirety.

“So big,” you whisper. “I’m going to have to take some time to adjust to you.”

He feels like he’s going to wake up soon, because this can’t possibly be real.

“As long as you need,” he says through a strained voice.

You smirk against his skin, kissing his cheek as you skim your fingers over him.

“Take these off,” you encourage him, pulling against the band of his boxers.

“Yes,” Zach obeys in a hush. He shuffles to take off his last piece of clothing as you prop up on your knees again.

You nearly gasp when his cock springs out, craving him with everything in you. You start to gently pump his length, eyes flitting between how big he is in your hand and how captivated he looks, watching you palm him.

“That feels so good,” he breathes in a whimper. His breaths are shallow and soft and slow as you touch him.

He’s in disbelief over how incredible his feels, how perfect you look, how hungry his body is for you.

Beneath the hot, overwhelming lust you’re feeling, you can’t help but be endeared at the way his hand is trembling when he picks up the condom lying beside him, having it at the ready, nervous and excited.

“Here,” you say softly, holding out your hand to take it.

Watching you doing this part for him, rolling the condom down his shaft, puts him in an even deeper fog of bliss, making him feel reassured and so incredibly wanted.

You lean over him, perfectly lined up, his tip pressing against your panties as you kiss his lips.

“I can be slow?” you ask.

“As slow as you want,” he mumbles against your mouth, the air thick with anticipation.

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Mhm,” he mumbles dreamily. The control you have over him, the way he’s hanging on your every word is addictive.

“You’re going to be patient with me?”

“Yes,” he breathes.

Now that you know just how much praise turns him on, you feel more comfortable to speak to him in a way you’ve never spoken to a man before. To tell him what he wants to hear, but is too shy to ask for.

“You’re going to be a good boy?” you whisper.

“Oh, my God,” he groans, his voice thick with pleasure. He could come just from listening to you talk like that. “Yes. I promise. Yes.”

You kiss him deeply as you push your panties down over your hips. He helps you strip, hands clumsily cupping yours, painfully desperate for you at this point.

With a shaky breath, you sit up to look down at him and grip him at his base, lining his cock up against you.

When you slowly start to sink onto him, Zach’s breath hitches, a strained moan spilling from his lips when he feels how hot and wet and tight you are. You exhale in pleasure, keeping your eyes locked on his as you get used to the pressure.

You swallow hard when you get to a point where you need to stop, holding yourself up on your knees, your hands splayed on his toned stomach. He’s stretching you out so much, nearly putting you on the cusp of pain.

“Take your time, baby,” he whispers, his hand resting over yours. “I don’t want it to hurt you.”

You nod gratefully. No matter how bad he wants to feel all of you, he’s so relieved you’re doing what you need to do to feel good. He wants to give you nothing but pleasure.

As you take the time to get used to his size, he takes the opportunity to savor every sensation, to appreciate how incredible you look naked, perched up on him.

You slowly put the rest of your weight on him, burying him inside of you all the way, feeling him hit you deep. You almost can’t believe how big he is and how a man this well-endowed isn’t arrogant or egocentric at all.

You meet his gaze again, seeing the sweet way his face pinches with pleasure, looking like he’s so damn grateful that you want him like this.

When you start to gently roll your hips, his length pressed hard and tight inside you, he pulls your hand towards his mouth to kiss your palm.

“Feels good?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you reply through a lustful moan. “So good.”

You start to rock on him a bit faster. Zach can’t hold himself back. It’s like his voice isn’t his, spilling out of his mouth in low, feeble groans from the pleasure of your soft heat wrapped around him.

“Oh, fuck.” His voice weakens. “You’re so tight. Fuck.”

It’s the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. You thought he whimpered before, but compared to the way he’s whining now, that was nothing.

“Keep making those sounds for me,” you tell him. He’s flattered and so relieved. He’s not confident that he could stop whimpering, no matter how hard he tried.

“Anything you want,” he says shakily.

Your moans tangle in the air together as you start to roll your hips faster, finding a perfect rhythm and filling the room with the sounds of your body meeting his. Zach has to look up at the ceiling, urging himself not to come, not yet, not until you have.

You lean over, chest pressed against his as your lips meet hungrily. Now that you’ve adjusted to his size, he starts to slowly thrust up into you.

The friction against your clit sends sparks through your body, pulling a breathy moan out of you. Between quick kisses, he calls you beautiful over and over, praising you even more than you’ve been praising him.

His breath is hoarse and uneven, hands cupping your hips to help support you with every bounce. You melt into each other with perfect ease, past the initial nerves, moving like you’ve done this together before.

“Just like that,” he whispers as his fingers dig into your skin. He’s lost in the pleasure, revelling in the feeling of you wanting him as bad as he wants you.

One hand stays on your hip while the other drags up your back, caressing your jaw, tilting your head so he can leave kisses on your cheek. When he starts to thrust into you harder, ecstasy rushes through you.

“That’s perfect,” you moan, writhing. “You’re perfect.”

He tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut, fighting every urge to come. Perfect? He’s never been called perfect in his life.

Within moments, heavy gasps tumble out of your mouth, your body going stiff. You both feel sweet release, unravelling together, hot pleasure flooding your bodies. His hips stutter against yours as he groans through his orgasm, feeling you quiver around him at the same time.

He’s in a haze when you collapse on top of him, your head buried into the crook of his neck. You’re both sweaty and breathless, reeling, shockwaves making you shudder.

“You okay?” he whispers, twitching inside you. “Was it good for you?”

“Yes,” you breathe. You didn’t expect anything less from Zach, already having seen his sweet and affectionate nature so many times, but the care he’s showing you is making your heart feel like it’s weightless.

It’s too soon, way too soon, but you can’t stop your mind from racing to the thought that you can see yourself eventually falling in love with him.

After he cleans up, Zach comes back to lie next to you. He pulls you in so tight that getting any closer to each other would be impossible. His kisses are featherlight over your collarbones, knowing he can’t leave marks any higher, the sounds of his lips puckering on your skin sweet.

You spend countless minutes like this, still naked together under his covers, your breaths slowly starting to even out, both thankful and recovering.

“It feels like I’ve known you for so long,” he admits. He pulls back a little, meeting your eyes as you both rest on his pillow. “Is that crazy?”

“Not crazy,” you say with a wistful smile. “I feel it, too.”

Zach runs his hand up and down your side, drifting over your back with every other stroke. You’re exactly what he always imagined the perfect girl would be like.

His laptop is still playing the film, a dramatic track softly spilling through the speakers.

“You like the movie?” he jokes quietly.

“The first ten minutes were great,” you laugh. “I picked well.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hip.

“What time is it?” you ask.

He lifts his head slightly, draping his arm up over you to check the time on his computer.

“10:37,” he says.

“I should go,” you sigh. His arm tightens around you, shuffling closer to you.

“I want to hold you a little longer,” he replies.

“We’ll get found out,” you giggle. “I’ve already been out of my cabin for so long.”

You secretly hope he’ll say it’s fine, you can just tell your cabin-mate where you really were, and that if a few other counselors know, it’s okay.

But he shifts back, kissing your forehead, leaving a bittersweet feeling sitting on your chest. Blue eyes meet yours and he seems to notice the sadness in your gaze.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Stay the night?”

You smile, knowing he’s putting your comfort above his right now. He’s already shown you how important it is to him to not get caught breaking the rules.

“I shouldn’t,” you say.

“You don’t want morning cuddles? For real?” he teases. You laugh.

“Maybe next time,” you say. He breathes a sweet chuckle, adorably burying his head into his pillow.

“So, you want to do this again?” he asks, voice muffled.

“Yeah,” you say. “Do you?”

“I do,” Zach says quickly, moving to press his lips onto yours. “Again and again.”

You smile under the kiss. It’s nearly impossible to tear yourself away from him, but you do.

When you stand, you bend to collect your clothes and he helps, quickly finding your panties bunched up on his bed.

“Sit down,” he says softly.

“What?”

“Sit.”

“Don’t order me around,” you tease, but you sit at the edge of his bed, your clothes balled in your hands.

Zach smirks. It’s never been easy for him to make decisions, to be assertive, but when it comes to you, it’s not as big of a challenge as he’s used to.

You watch as he leans down, lowering close to the floor, his hair still a mess. He unbunches your underwear. It’s wrong to let you leave so soon, his heart wringing at the possibility that you’ll feel cheap, like all he wants from you is physical. The least he can do is help you get dressed.

He drags the fabric up over your ankles, your calves, your knees, fingertips ghosting over your skin.

You lift your hips off the bed as he pulls your panties up and you notice his jaw tighten when he sees you up close.

“What?” you say playfully.

Zach scoffs. He already knows that next time you’re alone together, he’ll ask to put his head between your legs and feel you reach your peak on his tongue.

“You know what,” he says.

Once your panties are on, you rake your hand over his hair, touching him lovingly. He gazes up at you, a soft smile on his face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he says, tone hushed, brows turned down in sorrow.

You agree. Leaving simply because there’s a slight chance it could lead to you losing your jobs feels ridiculous right now. But you’d never forgive yourself if you played a role in Zach being forced to leave a place he loves so much.

You’d rather crack a joke than remind him of the fact that you’re risking something every time you’re together in secret like this.

“You’ll have the chance to be the little spoon next time,” you promise. His smile widens as he laughs. “Does Malcolm usually come back here in the morning after an overnight or does he just go straight to breakfast?”

“Straight to breakfast,” he says. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” you shrug. Then, you start to put your bra on, giggling when he quickly stands to help you with that, too.

He kisses you long and deep before you leave, watching you to make sure you make it to your cabin.

Thankfully, Ami’s asleep when you enter. You’re not sure how you look right now, but you’re almost certain you’re not the picture of someone who just got off of an innocent video call with friends.

The next morning, Zach’s brushing his teeth when his phone buzzes with a text from you. you awake?

He replies: Yes, good morning!

You text: you alone?

He texts: Yes… :)

The knocks on his door are rapid, but quiet. When he opens it to see you standing in your uniform, arms crossed as you glance around the campground blanketed in sunlight and morning dew, his heart flutters.

“You said something about wanting morning cuddles?” you say.

Zach beams, pulling you in, shutting the door and kissing you gently. Falling asleep last night without you next to him hurt his heart even more than he expected.

“I think we have a good five minutes before people start leaving their cabins,” you say. “Then I’ll sneak out.”

“Can we take our clothes off?” His fingers dip beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your cheeks warm at how desperate he is to touch you, even for innocent hugs.

Your clothes are soon a pile on the floor, and you’re snuggling in his bed in your underwear, facing each other like you did last night.

“There,” you say softly, nuzzling into him. “It’s like I never left last night.”

Zach’s body is buzzing, overjoyed that you miss him just as much as he misses you, that you’re so sweet that you come to spend a few minutes with him before the day begins.

“You need to turn around,” you tell him. He catches on and complies immediately, making you laugh at his speed.

You wrap an arm around his broad frame, pressing your cheek against his back, not feeling like much of a big spoon with someone so tall.

Zach lets himself shut his eyes for a little, breathing calm, sleepy breaths as you hug him. He’s never met anyone like you. He’s never felt so seen. So cared for.

He can’t stop thinking about last night, a little nervous you felt slighted having to leave after doing something so intimate.

“How do you feel?” he asks. “About last night?”

“Sore,” you say with a laugh. Admittedly, you can feel tenderness where his body met yours.

“What?” he mumbles sadly. “I hurt you?”

“No, baby. I’m not sore in a bad way,” you reply. “I had a good time.”

He sighs like a weight has been lifted off of him.

“Me, too,” Zach says. “And you can call me baby whenever you want. Just for the record.”

“Got it,” you whisper with a smile.

You continue to talk together. Five minutes go by way too fast. You rush to get dressed when you hear people talking outside, worried you won’t be able to leave without being seen. Thankfully, the coast is clear when you sneak out.

The crowds in the dining hall are loud and rambunctious, a hard contrast to the slow, peaceful way Zach started his day. As he stands in line to make his breakfast plate, he spots you a few people in front of him.

You’re everything he could ever want in a girl and every second not right next to you, not holding your hand, not talking to you, feels like a waste.

He’s completely infatuated. His heart is already yours. He steps forward a little, hoping he can somehow fall into conversation with you.

But seconds later, Ruby approaches him, holding her clipboard, to ask about a shift change. Maybe it’s a good thing he isn’t closer to you. It’s better to avoid any chance of being seen wearing the obviously enamored look he’s sure he always has around you.

Zach is glancing at the chart when he hears one of his campers say your name in confusion. When he looks down at Oliver, he notices the boy’s eyes aren’t on you, though. They’re on Zach’s name-tag.

“Why do you have her name-tag?” he asks loudly.

Cold flushes through Zach’s body as he glances down and sees the shiny plastic rectangle hanging off the lanyard. In the scramble to put your clothes back on this morning, he realizes he must have gotten your name-tags mixed up.

When you heard your name exclaimed, you immediately turned around. Now, you can see that Zach’s eyes are wide, looking lost as Ruby and a few kids look up at him, waiting for an answer.

Your mind is jumbled. You feel for your lanyard. You’re not wearing one. You forgot to grab it from Zach’s floor this morning. And then, he took yours without making sure that it was his. His must still be in his room.

You run with an idea that pops into your head, thinking back to the first time you talked with Zach in this very building, listening to his teasing about how impressive it is that he never lost his name-tag in all his years of working here.

“Okay, I get it,” you say loudly, stepping towards him and holding your hand out. “You’re hilarious.”

Zach meets your eyes, confused. You look down at Oliver, shrugging.

“He’s wearing it because he’s trying to make a point. He was telling me how easy it is to lose your name-tag and I was bragging that I’d never lose it.” You look at Zach. “Where’d you find it?”

Relief settles into Zach’s tense muscles. You and your quick thinking just saved you both.

“Outside, by the staff cabins,” he plays along. “Don’t be so sure of yourself next time.”

You laugh as he pulls the lanyard off over his head, handing it to you.

“Funny,” you say sarcastically, hoping nobody asks where his name-tag is. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“Yeah, good eye,” Ruby says with a laugh. Your gut tells you she’s not suspecting anything, but your anxiety refuses to let you fully relax.

For the rest of the day, you can’t get how freaked out Zach looked when he thought he’d been found out right in front of his aunt out of your head.

You don’t have any drills scheduled with him so after dinner, during free time, you stand by the lake with a few other counselors and text him: can you come by the dock to talk?

“Good thinking this morning,” Zach says to you when he approaches you, quiet enough so that other staff don’t hear him. You notice he has his name-tag now.

“Thanks,” you say with a nervous smile. “Think we got away with it?”

“Yeah,” he says confidently. You nod, looking out at the fire, your brows pinched in worry. “You don’t?”

“That was like, our third time almost getting caught,” you say. “What if we’re not so lucky next time?”

Zach’s stomach drops. Maybe if he was more rational, he could agree that it’s harder to hide than he thought. But right now, his heart doesn’t care about being rational. It’s too busy cracking.

But, because he’s never been good at telling people that they said something he doesn’t want to hear, he nods.

“Guess we’re not that good at keeping the secret,” he agrees, forcing himself to joke away the discomfort.

“It’s so much harder than I expected,” you say. “Do we just… cool things down, maybe?”

Zach looks down at you, his throat tightening. How’d things go wrong this fast? You were naked together last night, whispering sweet things to each other, and now, well… this kind of feels like a break-up.

“You think that’s best?” he asks.

“I hated seeing you so worried this morning,” you confess. “I know how important this job is to you.”

Zach scratches the back of his neck. You don’t miss the way his face drops. You couldn’t miss it from a mile away. You want to reassure him that you still want him. That you’re suggesting this because you care about him so much.

“I think it’s best we do what we originally said we were going to do,” you offer. “We wait until the season’s over and pick up where we left off and go on that date we talked about. Is that okay?”

Zach sighs. No. It’s not okay. He wants to touch you every possible chance he can get, even if it is in a stolen moment he knows he’s not allowed to have.

But he’s never been good at being upset with people. It seems that while you bring out so many sides of him, that piece of him remains unchanged. He’s hurt. But in his usual way, he buries it, not letting it see any light.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he says. “Hope you’re ready for the best date ever.”

You smirk, finding relief in his words.

“Can’t wait,” you say honestly. Zach gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and heads back towards the campfire. You already miss him.

That night, you step out of the bathroom in your pajamas to see Ami sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Did you see that it’s gonna rain this weekend?” she says to you, eyes glued to her phone. “What do we even do with the kids then?”

“How bad is it supposed to be?” you ask. You settle on your bed on the other side of the cabin.

She looks up, about to answer, but her mouth stays open, no words coming out.

“That bad?” you laugh.

“Um, what’s on your chest?” Ami asks with a scandalized smile.

You look down to see that your pajama top slid down when you sat, revealing the marks that Zach left on you last night.

“What do you mean?” you play dumb. But she’s not falling for it. She laughs and stares at you with a knowing look.

“I mean, the hickeys.”

(part six)

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