#it’s heavy but ​he’s holding it for him :(

[coffee-and-geto]

satoru is the kind of husband who’s often absent. between missions, meetings, jujutsu high, and let’s not forget his clan, he spends his time running around instead of spending time with you — his wife.

it’s a routine. though sometimes, not seeing him can get really frustrating (not to mention the number of tears you’ve shed because of his absence). he’s well aware of it. poor guy feels guilty every second he’s away from you.

one evening, after spending the whole time of it crying over his absence, curled up like a caterpillar in the soft, cottony white duvet, you finally found sleep. a deep sleep, to be precise.

but apparently not deep enough, because in the middle of the night, the moonlight filtering through the windows wakes you up. you quickly realize something heavy is resting on your body. a warm, steady breath brushes against the skin of your neck, sending shivers across your whole body.

you squirm slightly under your husband, who’s lying on top of you as if you were his mattress. “satoru, get off me…”

“hmmm,” he hums, pouting and furrowing his brows. instead of freeing you, he shifts lazily on top of you, trapping you further in his arms. and you’re still wrapped in your duvet, too.

“satoru, i can’t move anymore.” but that doesn’t seem to matter. he clings to you like a koala to a tree. you sigh.

“i missed you.” he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, instantly melting your heart. “i love you.” he chuckles softly, eyes still closed, because he knows you don’t really hold it against him. “i’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” a promise he kept, to your delight.

[mattscoquette]

perv!matt using your panties to get himself off

matt knew it was wrong. he knew it. but still, he couldn’t help himself from swiping your lacey panties off of nick’s floor when he went up there to grab a phone charger. he anxiously hurried back down to his room, almost as if you would suddenly teleport in front of him from the ice cream shop back to their house in a matter of moments.

back in the safety and privacy of his room, matt was quick to lock the door behind him. his cock strained against the zipper of his jeans, begging to be freed. he fiddled with his belt as he tugged his pants down, jeans pooling around his ankles as he slowly began to palm himself over his boxers.

matt tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, concealing his small whines and whimpers as he continued to tease himself. as his right hand worked, he looked down into his left, examining your underwear he’d stolen out of nick’s room. he admired the lace, and the little frills at the edges with a teeny tiny bow in the front. he felt himself getting harder and harder, finally pulling his aching cock out of his boxers.

his dick sprung up against his stomach, throbbing and dripping with pre cum. he shakily took your panties, slowly wrapping them around himself, moaning quietly at the sensation of the fabric as he began to stroke himself. he knew it was sick and perverted, but that didn’t stop him. if he couldn’t have you squeezing around him, your panties were the next best thing.

he slowly rubbed the panties along his cock, increasing the speed as he flicked his thumb over the tip teasingly. he let out soft grunts, scrunching his eyes closed as he thought about you being the one touching him. he wondered if you would think he was a total creep, or if you liked the idea of him getting himself off with your panties.

as he worked himself faster and faster, he felt himself begin to become lost in the sensation, his strokes turning sloppy and his breathing ragged. his cock throbbed in his hand as he tugged at it lazily, making sure to keep your panties wrapped perfectly around him. he bit his bottom lip, holding in his sounds as he grew closer and closer to his climax.

while he was touching himself, he hadn’t heard the front door unlock, when you and nick came home from getting ice cream. you walked over to his door, knocking lightly. “matt,” you spoke softly, “me an’ nick are back, we got you ice cream.”

matt held back a choked moan, rasping out an okay before letting out a small strand of curses while cumming hard all over your panties. he let out heavy pants, pulling the sticky fabric away from his now limp cock. he looked at your panties, now absolutelty wrecked with his cum. the sudden realization came over him, that not only did he cum from the sound of your voice, but he used your underwear to get himself off. he sighed softly, begrudgingly pulled his boxers and jeans back up, tucking your panties into his back pocket before walking out into the kitchen.

he headed to the table, keeping his gaze away from you as he swiftly snatched his ice cream, quickly returning to his bedroom. he was slick, but not enough. not enough to keep you from noticing your frilly and laced panties sticking out the back of matt's pockets. and in a weird, sick, and twisted way, you couldn't help but press your thighs together, feeling a heat in between your legs.

© mattscoquette

[s0dium]

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐗

A/n: Almost kinktober guys ;) Synopsis: How many rounds can JJK men go for? Characters: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Choso, Sukuna Ryomen Warnings: Doggy, mating press, multiple orgasms, sub space, overstimulation, dub-con, photo taking, cock warming, nipple sucking, finger sucking, breeding, unprotected sex, virgin!Choso, mentions of masturbation, pussy drunk men

☆ Gojo Satoru: 3-4

The longest three rounds of your life

You think he can stop just cumming in you once? Hell no. The best part about sex is when he can see his cum oozing out of you with each push.

Also loves overstimulating himself until he is a groaning mess.

Unfortunately for you, Gojo Satoru is NOT a one-minute man.

"Awe come on don't go zoning out on me now~"

Gojo's voice is teasing, a low, melodic coo that slides into your ears as you struggle to focus. His grin is wide, almost predatory, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement as he leans in closer. You’re hazy, breathless, your mind clouded with pleasure, barely able to register the words.

"S'cant... feel too...” You mumbled and thrashed against Gojo's hold, forcing him to pin your wrists together above your head while he pistoned into you with brute force. Sure it's only the second round for him but for you, he's brought you over the edge more than your poor poor body can handle.

Your body feels completely spent, trembling with overstimulation as your legs, sore from the constant tightening and untightening, hang limp in Gojo's grip. He’s folded you in half, his hands pressing your legs against your chest, locking you in place with ease. The room feels heavy, a warm haze clouding your thoughts as you realize you’ve been drooling, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure to even care.

“Feel fucking amazing Jesus Christ.” Gojo manages to groan out between pants followed by a string of curses. Every time he leaves the clutch of your cunny, his cock is coated in a thick shiny sheen of creaminess, and when he snaps his hips back in, it settles right at the base of him, painting your puffy pussy lips as well. Gojo effortlessly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, sinking even deeper into you with each forceful thrust. The new angle, paired with the relentless pace of his hips snapping against yours, sends you spiraling dangerously close to the edge. Your grip on the sheets falters, hands slipping as tears streak down your flushed cheeks. Your mouth hangs open, drool pooling beneath you, completely mind-fucked and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes every inch of your body.

Your limbs have no strength left to resist—no, you don’t want to. Every nerve in your body is thrumming, begging for more as you let him take control. His every movement draws out a fresh wave of sensation, each thrust sending you spiraling closer to that next high. You can’t stop it—there’s no chance to. Your body is his to use, to pull pleasure from again and again, and all you can do is surrender to the bliss as it builds, crashing over you uncontrollably.

"Come for me baby," Gojo coos. "I'll cum in you and if it spills we can start all over again."

~

☆ Toji Fushiguro: 6

First three you are riding him and doing all the work.

Then when your legs give out thats even he fucks you silly

He is so big :( Sometimes he has to let you cock warm him for a bit so you can catch your breath

This is it you where going to die.

You were going to be fucked to death.

"Shhh, stop crying would you? Yer' taking it like a champ I promise."

Two big hands come up to your face to wipe the hot tears streaming down your face. Your body is trembling uncontrollably, every muscle quivering as waves of pleasure leave you numb and overwhelmed. It’s like your senses have short-circuited, leaving you shaking, barely able to register anything beyond the intense, lingering sensation pulsing through you.

Even though Toji is unmoving inside you, your pussy cannot stop spasming from the pleasure of his fat tip pressed up against your g-spot. Even if he wanted to pull out right now, Toji doubts that your cunt would give up the vice grip on his cock. Coincidentally that meant that he was keeping you plugged with 3 loads of warm sticky cum in your tight walls.

"Fuck still so tight baby, you want me to fuck you more don't you?" Toji's voice is a low, teasing coo as his focus shifts to your breasts, his tongue flicking over each hardened nipple, tracing slow, lazy circles that send shivers down your spine. One hand squeezes your breast, kneading the soft flesh, while the other glides over your sides and stomach, his touch warm and deliberate, drawing out every sensation. With all the strength you can muster, you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer to you so that you can feel his cock push impossibly farther into you, and he moans into your breast, biting your nipple softly. 

Then, without releasing your nipple from his mouth, he begins the slow roll of his hips into your sloppy cunt. Toji's hips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each roll pressing him deeper into you with a tantalizing, unhurried pace. His movements are controlled, almost teasing, as he grinds against you, making you feel every inch, every pulse of his dick as he draws out your pleasure with each smooth thrust.

"Just take it m'kay? You can handle it."

~

☆ Geto Suguru: 4

Geto is a real fiend

The breaks between sex consist of him drinking water and kissing the water into your mouth. After that it's right back to fucking.

Loves taking photos of his cum oozing out of you. Looks at it when he is bored.

“So pretty….”

Drool dripped from your chin onto the pillow below, mixing with the tears streaming from your eyes, which were rolled back in bliss. Your breath hitched the moment Geto's hand tightened in your hair, pulling your head back just enough to catch his gaze out of the corner of your eye. As your eyes lock, a dark, knowing smirk curves on his lips, sending a shiver down your spine. You were finally getting used to the dizzying, mind-numbing pressure of his tip crashing into your cervix—but the bad news? Your legs were completely numb, trembling and useless beneath you.

 “Did you hear what I said doll?”

 Whatever was left of your mind tried to reign back its focus on the man pistoning into you from behind, but as it turned out, there wasn’t much. The friction of his cock dragging against you was unbearable, even with the syrupy cum soaking the walls of your quivering pussy. All you could do was dizzily nod, earning a chuckle from Geto while he eyes the way your hips instinctively raise so his cock can sink even deeper into you from behind. If you could only know the heaven your cunt you're putting his mind in, he is sure you'd be the one smirking. Geto even has to bite harshly on his lip to stop himself from whimpering every time your sticky pussy spasms from pleasure.

The euphoria came in waves of electric current that pulsed through your sloppy pussy and the only thing keeping you grounded his loads of warm sticky cum dripping down your thigh.  

 “Come on speak to me baby, I've only come two times, we've barely even started.”

 The wet sounds of Geto's dick slipping in and out of you filled the room and your senses. His cock filled you so much better than your hands ever could, hitting that gummy spot inside your walls over and over again perfectly, and you wondered how you were ever satisfied with the way you masturbated before you met him.

 “I’m a lucky man arent I? To have such an obedient baby with such a pretty pussy.” His hand comes to your face to caress your cheek, and you nestle into his touch while his thumb wipes away your tears. Your too busy immersing in the warmth of his palm to notice the flash of light and the sound of a shutter above you. Even when you turn your head back in curiosity, all you see is Geto staring at the screen of his phone with a lazy grin spread on his face.

~

☆ Choso: 2

Give this man a break! He's a half century old curse who has never fucked before!

You should be glad that he didn't cum by just slipping his tip in, because oh god lord he is seeing colors.

Choso swore he wasn't a whimpering man. Nothing that good could ever make him stumble over his words like a schoolboy. But Jesus Christ, he was not expecting you.

“F-fuck, you’re tight,” Choso groans hoarsely. You felt good? Try god-like, Choso's mind was in euphoria right now. His hand or a fleshlight could never compare to the way your gummy walls sucked him in and hugged his cock.

"M'feel good Cho~" You whine, head thrown back against the plush pillow. The stretch was delicious. It had you squirming and writhing and you couldn't help but tighten as your body tried to push out the large foreign intrusion. You gasped when you felt his tip smush against your cervix, little bolts of electricity being sent through your stomach as he pressed against you.

Choso was slow at first, wanting to still admire the way your cunt swallows him up, the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He whines at how hot you are on the inside, but he’s quick to change to a faster pace.

Choso’s voice comes out in a deep, breathless groan, his grip tightening as he leans closer, his words heavy with need. "W-wanna do this all the time. Every day, baby," he rasps, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure, completely lost in the sensation. Each thrust seems to pull the words from his lips as if he can’t hold back, his body trembling with how good it feels. The thought of having you like this, over and over, only spurs him on, his pace quickening as he grinds against you, desperate to make this moment last forever.

Unable to handle the sensation, your hands grab his shoulder and grip them for dear life. Choso doesn’t let up his pace, in fact he increases it, pounding your poor little cunt with no remorse. His mind is foggy, everything just feels and looks so so good, he’s not even thinking when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, digits pressing down on your tongue and swirling around in the spit.

“Your gonna let me use you when ever I want right? Gotta lot of time to make up for, you gonna be a good girl and always make me feel good right?”

~

☆ Sukuna Ryomen: Lord have mercy

It depends.

Its either the longest no-break sex marathon of your life or 6 even seven rounds with small breaks in between.

Unfortunately, Sukuna is a sadist, it's a headcanon that he might prioritize his pleasure over yours. Combine that with his godly stamina and you have an insane combo.

Kneeling helplessly, both your wrists pinned behind you by just one of Sukuna’s powerful arms, you can only brace yourself as he thrusts into you from behind, each powerful movement sending shockwaves through your body as he effortlessly controls your every breath, your every tremble.

"C-cant do this!" you cry, your voice breaking as Sukuna's grip tightens around your wrists, holding you firmly in place. Your legs are sore from this kneeling position and the angle that his cock hits you is so euphoric it's almost painful from the sheer collision. Sukuna chuckles darkly, his pace relentless as he leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your neck.

"Oh, but you will," he growls, each word dripping with wicked amusement, his hips driving into you harder. "You don’t have a choice."

You can only wail in response, the sound escaping your lips uncontrollably as the overwhelming pleasure consumes you. Every thrust sends a wave of heat surging through your body, your mind going blank as Sukuna fills you completely, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. The pressure builds with each deep, forceful stroke, your body trembling beneath him, and all you can do is surrender to the intense, all-encompassing bliss that threatens to pull you under.

"Such a good girl, you're a natural submissive, aren't you? Or maybe you just loved being fucked like the slut you are."

How much time has passed? You can’t even tell anymore—everything blurs together in a haze of pleasure and heat. The rhythm of Sukuna’s relentless pistoning becomes the only thing grounding you, your mind foggy and lost as your body responds to him instinctively. Each second feels stretched out, an eternity of raw sensation as you teeter on the brink, utterly consumed by the moment.

"Gonna fuck you like this till I’ve had my fill, got that?" Sukuna’s voice is a low, dangerous growl in your ear, the words sending a shiver down your spine as he presses deeper.

[chiscaralight]

breeding kink with kinich pleaaase I crave your writting it's so good 👁👁 (take your time btw and take care of u <3)

nsfw kinich x reader

nothing in this world can convince me that kinich doesn’t have a breeding kink. it’s less about actually having a kid and more of just possessing you, filling you up with his own seed and no repercussions for it. and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a cute little family with you. he sees the way you are with kids and it tugs on some certain heartstrings, he’ll never have the heart tho tell you though!

so he’ll be balls deep in you, eyes squeezed shut as he fights every fiber in his being from asking you that question. he’s balling the sheets up in his fists, licking at your neck, twirling his tongue with yours, but nothing can take away the primal instincts that he has.

and with a single line of spit still connecting his lips to yours, he’s almost begging now, pleading for you to let him fill you up, to breed you full. you’re starting to get dizzy from how lovely he sounds, the thought of his warm release blooming through your body making you hot all over again. so you cup is face and nod, and his chest releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

but his actual hold on you only tightens, pushing your thighs up so he has perfect access to that weeping cunt before he’s plunging back in. and he’s fucking into you hard. he’s usually quiet, voice devoid of anything that’s not a soft groan or a sweet praise. but his words are lewd now, so out of place for his usually calm persona, but it’s making you throb with a passion that’s lighting a fire inside both of you.

he hangs your legs on either shoulder and pushes his body down, getting as close to you as possible before stilling, and you can feel every drop of his heavy, hot come as he slowly starts to fuck it back into you.

he pulls out, allowing for only little of it to drip out of you as you sigh, face in a dazed state before he pushes it back into you with his fingers. you whine, but he’s on a different planet, eyes locked onto your pulsating pussy, only pulling them out so he can replace them with his cock once again. and he picks up this time with speed.

you’re loud and whining. you’re whimpering, begging him to slow down, but your words are only falling on deaf ears. he’s mumbling something, and the words you can barely pick out are cum and full.

now you know you’re fucked, because his thrusts are shorter, harder than anything he’s every given before. the way the bed is slamming against the wall is almost nothing compared to the noises you’re spewing, but that’s all he needs to hear. and once you find your voice, mumbling a broken-

“i-inside..”

-to him, both of you know that neither of you are going anywhere till either his body gives out, or until you’re bearing his child.

[gothgoblinbabe]

Love Game

[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

✦•······················•✦•·················��····•✦

“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different. 

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“ 

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

"Toji?" You call, putting your phone down after hearing the front door slam shut. Your heartbeat quickens when you hear heavy footsteps going through the living room, approaching the kitchen, where you are. Toji's expression looks blank from afar, but as he gets closer, you can see the signs of stress on his face. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, his eyes are lidded and there's no sign of the usual playful smirk that he reserves for you. He snatches your hand from where it rests on the kitchen counter, and holds it in a tight grip as he drags you away with him to the bedroom.

The second you reach the bedroom, he shuts the door and locks it before pushing you back onto the bed. He climbs over you and immediately starts devouring your neck. You can hear his erratic breathing as he aggressively kisses your skin.

"To- Toji?" You call, again.

"Is this okay?" He asks, his voice a deep and low rumble beneath your ear. Your word tidal waves his needs and stomps on anything he may be feeling inside. Nothing is ever so deep that it's worth scaring you over, so if being touched this way is not something you want, he won't push you.

You understand what he's implying and offer a nod, before responding with more certainty.

"Yes, Toji," you permit, unable to catch his eyes before he's moving back to your neck.

"I need peace and quiet, right now. No talking, unless you're uncomfortable with something, yes?"

"Yeah- Yes," you correct.

He offers you the faintest of smiles, before going down your body. You respect his request and give him the silence he wants as he continues. Your fingers course through his hair as he plants kisses on your chest, the light sensation luring out a few quiet breaths from him. He goes lower, pushing up your shirt to reveal your tummy, where he plants even more kisses. You let out a gasp when he sucks a mark just above your bellybutton. He leaves a couple more, placing them lower as he reaches the waistband of your shorts and the elastic of your underwear. He pulls them both down in one swoop, and without hesitation buries his face between your thighs.

Toji's name is dying over and over on your tongue. You want to let him know how good you're feeling—how good he's making you feel— but you don't want to kill his energy entirely by disobeying his request for silence. Soft, almost inaudible moans spill from your lips, as you paw at the sheets beneath you. You bite your lip every time you feel the urge to say his name, the taste of iron perfectly embodying the foulness of being unable to praise him for making you feel this way. His fingers are digging into your hips, leaving a dull ache that you know will feel sore later on.

You make eye contact with Toji and feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. You can physically feel the blood pumping in your veins run cold, your skin pebbling with goosebumps the longer you look at him. Those fern-colored eyes are borderline predatory. His pupils are enlarged, your effect on him entirely drug-like as your taste smothers every tastebud on his tongue.

Toji's gaze dominates you and provides the smallest tinge of intimidation, which only makes your orgasm that much stronger when it strikes. You're so good to him, slapping a palm over your mouth to muffle those cries of intense pleasure as the sensation surges through you. Even when you're preventing yourself from being too loud, for his sake, Toji knows the effect he has on you. Your body is trembling, your eyes are closed tightly, and the sheets are balled up in your tight-knuckled fist. He can positively assume that beneath your hand, your lips are being chewed up to all hell and god it's so beautiful.

Toji is patient enough to give you a second to compose yourself. He keeps his eyes on you the entire time, because he finds comfort in the surface level view of the chaos you must be feeling inside. Once you're more visibly relaxed, he does a check in. He squeezes your thigh and waits for you to give him a thumbs up.

When you give Toji the signal, he picks up where he left off with no hesitation, only this time, his fingers find refuge inside your drooling cunt. He eases one thick digit in first, a mesmerized look on his face as it easily sinks into you, your arousal being a big help in the process. He lets out a quiet, fascinated gasp when your warm walls start contracting around his finger.

"Shh... baby," he whispers, hushing your little whimpers as his finger sinks deeper, until it's completely swallowed by your velvety walls.

Your stomach quivers when Toji slowly starts pumping his finger in and out of you. Just when you think you can take it, he adds a second finger, luring a sharp gasp from you. Both of your hands come up to your face, your warm breath released through the cracks between your fingers. Toji taps your thigh, and when your hands come down so you can see him, he gives you a disapproving shake of his head.

"No covering your pretty face."

Hearing Toji's voice again made you clench around his fingers, a feeling that lured a smirk onto his lips. You felt like you were delving into insanity with every beckoning motion he made, but when his lips enveloped your throbbing clit, your entire body jolted, earning a hum of warning from him as he gripped your hip, holding you steady in place. His cock twitched mercilessly at the sound of your bitten back moans and the sharp, stuttered breaths he stole from you. You nearly choke on your spit when he picks up the pace, a silent but very obvious request for you to cum on his fingers. His fingertips keep brushing against your sensitive spot, the precision turning you to mush. His lips attach to your clit again, suckling on the bud as his fingers continue to plunge into you.

Toji looks up at you through his eyelashes and in an instant, his shoulders lose the remaining tension they carried from before. You look so graceful, like some sort of goddess, with your eyes closed and those glimmering tears gliding down your face. He feels so much better just looking at you, watching your pretty eyes flutter open and your lips part to breathe. This is why the talking part comes after. By the time he's finished between your thighs, he's a lot more calm and level headed than when he first got home. Just being able to see you and hold you would have been enough to dissipate his stress, but as always, you being the angel that you are, you allowed him to use you as he pleased to unwind.

Your back arches off the bed and again, you taste iron on your tongue. Your head is thrown back into the pillow, your hands gripping the pillowcase tightly as you cum all over Toji's fingers. His tongue gently laps at your clit, a contrast to the motion of his fingers inside you. You ended up breaking, your moans flooding out with every bit of pleasure coursing through you. You gasped out a few apologies, and tried to quiet down again after your fourth breathy "s-sorry".

Toji just hums, too distracted by the feeling of your juices dripping down his palm. He retracts his fingers and tongue from your cunt when your hips start jerking away from him and he pops the digits into his mouth, licking them, as well as his palm, clean because he's never been one to waste even a drop of your sweetness. His hands are warm on your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh, comfortingly, while you work to recover your breath. He plants kisses on your thighs, not stopping until he hears your breathing regulate.

Once your chest moves at a calm and steady pace, he puts your panties back on and tosses your shorts somewhere on the floor, before crawling up the bed to level with you. He pulls you into him and brings your leg up, resting it over his hip. His arms are wrapped around you, while he presses multiple quick kisses to your forehead, a silent act of gratitude for disarming him.

"What's up, baby? Did the job go okay?" You murmur, your eyes trailing up from his lips to meet his gaze.

"Better than okay if i'm home with you, doll." His hand glides up from where it rests on your hip, and goes beneath your shirt to splay over your warm, bare waist. "Missed you," he says, lowly, a smirk on his face as he leans in closer. Close enough for his lips to nearly ghost yours.

"Did you?" You respond, easing forward a little more, still not meeting his lips.

"Lots. So fucking much." You giggle when he leans forward, chasing your lips as you inch back, away from him. "Quit teasing, baby. Stay."

You let out another sweet giggle, as you wait for Toji to close the distance between your lips. The kisses are gentle—soft and loving— while still having his longing for you imbued into them. Your cheeks are warm when the kiss is finally broken.

"I need a nap," you murmur, tiredly.

A chuckle rumbles through his chest. "Yeah, I drained your energy, huh?"

"It's okay." You smile at the lingering warmth in his gaze. "I'm here for you whenever and however you need me. I got you, baby."

In that moment, Toji feels like he could crush you in his arms until your chest caves in, like he could lock you in a kiss until you're teary eyed and gasping for air, like he could break your hand from holding it so tight. The feelings you stir in him are strong to the point of being disastrous, and you're such a delicate thing, unknowing, with no signs of fear as you lie so close to him.

"What am I gonna do with you, sweetheart?" Green eyes trace your features and the soft expression they create. "You make being away from you so damn hard." Goosebumps rise and settle with every absentminded drag of Toji's palm on your waist. "Sometimes, I don't wanna see anyone other than you. Everyone else is so shitty and... I just don't care." He sighs. Your attentiveness is calming to him. You're hanging on to every word he says. "You're the only person I wanted to see today. Only you. I made everyone's day hell because I couldn't stay home with you."

"Well, you're home with me, now," you say, smiling. "And we have the rest of the day to spend together. We can do anything you want, but I need you to relax for a little, before anything, my love. I know you're tired."

"Oh, I am so relaxed. Got everything I need right here." Toji's heavy hand comes down on your ass, a firm squeeze following, luring a gasp and a shocked "Toji" from you. He smirks at your little giggle. He knows you like when he does stupid things like that, and he likes making you laugh so he keeps doing them.

"Wanna take a nap with me?" You ask, tiredness washing over you, again. Toji has a knack for getting you to fall asleep, easily. His hands work wonders at soothing you, despite how often he says that they're too rough to bring you any comfort.

"Hell yeah, mama," he responds, ready to get much needed rest with you. You immediately start feeling sleepier when his hand goes beneath your shirt, allowing him to stroke your back in the way he knows turns you into a sleeping, drooling mess.

[vividxpages]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt subconscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[evilgwrl]

WAIT. simon holding you in full Nelson for anal and Price or soap in the front.

UM YES PLEASE AND THANK YOU

CW: Double penetration, PIV (no protection), cream pie (both holes), squirting

You’re absolutely stuffed, tight rim being ruined by Ghost’s thick cock, heavy balls slapping against the curvature of your ass as you whine, head laid against his chest as the back of your knees sweat, large hands gripping you.

You stutter out a moan, staring at Price through hooded eyes as he gives your clit a slap, the sensitive nub throbbing in response as you attempt to buck your hips.

“Desperate girl, aren’t you? Look at you taking your Lieutenant in that pretty hole. You want me to fuck you?”

You nod, another slap sounding against your pussy as you wail out. “Y-Yes, Captain, please fuck me.”

You can hear the muffle of a laugh behind you, sticky lube covering your lower half as Simon continues his relentless pounds, the fullness incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced.

You feel teeth graze your neck, a shiver running down your spine as you huff out a moan, ass milking against Ghost’s length. Hot breath swept against your face before Price brought your lips to his, tongue sweeping your bottom lip with desperation as you open, greedy to taste him.

The Captain’s mushroom teeth, slick with pre-cum collected your wetness, squelches sounding the room as he nudged against your clit, ravelling in the way your breath hicked.

“Price- please, please-“

He scoffed out a grunt, grabbing you by the flesh of your face before he probed your aching hole. His dick was flushed as he pushed it in, your pussy stretching to accomodate his size as you choked on the air, Ghost’s hand covering your mouth as you slobbered against the palm.

“That’s it, just like that- Good girl,” Price groaned, bottoming out as he groped your tits, examining the way they sit in his huge hands and how erect your nipples got under his touch.

Their thrusts were rapid, meeting each other at the same pace, endless screams of pleasure staining the walls of your mouth, eyes rolling back into your skull. It was a dirty scene, both of your holes stretched to accomodate your superiors as you let them, sharing both of their spit in your mouth, and eventually both of their cum inside you.

It was so taboo, but you loved it, pussy dripping with arousal as you cried out, the coil building in your stomach as you writhed against Ghost’s chest, hair mingled to his skin as he held you in place.

“Please let me cum, sir, please.”

Price raised a brow towards Simon, his fingers grazing your clit as you moaned before you felt the Lieutenant nod, the coil in your stomach popping as you squirted, juices soaking the pudge of John’s hairy tum, the remainder leaking down to the bulging cock in your ass.

Thick spurts of cum stained the inside of your backside as Ghost rutted, the warmth of his seed penetrating deep inside you before the Captain too, met his demise, soaking cunt leaking the salty loads of him.

You were sad when they pulled out, both of your holes clenching around nothing, cum seeping from you as you twitched, before you felt the familiar hands of Price grip at your legs, holding you in the same place Ghost did earlier.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Dilf!Simon, your next door neighbor, reader’s around early 20s, Simon’s around late 30s~early 40s)

Just retired and move into a new flat, Simon doesn’t expect someone to knock on his door when he’s unpacking his belongings. With slight annoyance, he opens the door and try to dismiss whoever is out there.

His annoyance vanishes quickly when he lays eyes on you, young, gorgeous, gazing up at him with a baggy shirts barely cover the sweat-shorts. The simple apron on the outside looks incredible on you, the fabric of it rises and taut around your chest. Greeting him with a grin and hand him a plate of biscuits. A welcome gift for the new neighbor, you explain to him before leaving with a wave, hips swaying tantalizingly as you saunter back to your flat and close the door behind you.

He becomes closer to you each day, helping you without a word when one day he hears noises from the staircase outside, swings open the door of his flat and discovers you struggling with the heavy groceries bags. When you sheepishly knock on his door again, holding a screwdriver and fidgeting it, telling him you have some issues with assembling the new bookshelf you bought, he already starts his steps and walks into your flat, finish the work in minutes while you circling around cutely and trying to help like a desperate puppy.

To express your thankfulness to him, you invite him to have dinner with you, become a habit of yours when he shoots you a glance with a ‘Not bad.” but devours your home cooked meal like a man starved for days.

Sweet, beautiful girl, a year before graduating from college, expressing your insecurity about your future when he hinted that you can share your worries with him—a person who has much more experience than you— a while ago, he provides some insight and rational advice, swallowing back the words he’s been thought about for months now: Slide the silver ring on your ring finger with his name name engraved on it, makes you his missus and away from all shites the society is boiling everyday. A man alone for years and has low material desires, he has the money to take care of and spoil you without any hesitation.

He’s been fisting his cock whenever he hears your moans coming from the other aide of the wall. Hell, you don’t know how shitty and thin the walls are, the soundproof ability of them is imperceptible when it comes to louder sounds. Simon listens closely to the sounds, closing his eyes, head leans back on the armchair, trying to imagine how you must be right now. Hands in sync of the squelchy sounds of you pumping your fingers in and out of that soaked pussy. His cock’s so huge, even his own palms are just big enough wrapped around the girth, and an obscene growl left his lips as your whimpers and moans turn higher and sultrier, definitely look like a goddess when you’re weeping tears, stuffing your cunny full and craving for the release. But when you finally tumble over the edge, he snaps his eyes open and groans the second his name comes out of your mouth with such honeyed tone, crying his name in need and suppressed desire.

Simon jumps up from the armchair, heavy cock forming an obvious tent when he shoves open his door and knocks on yours impatiently. “Wait-Wait me a second…!” your voice hits his ears with trembles that can’t be left unnoticed.

“ 'S what you want, love? getting bent over by a man older than you and fucked stupid? Is that so, princess?” He squeezes himself through the crack of your door, kicking it close and pinning your upper body on the shoe cabinet beside the door, your legs dangling in the air as he drives the fat tip into your entrance ferociously, tight cunt still spasming from your orgasm and makes him grunts out a curse, “Fucking screaming my name when you touch yourself, hmm? you know you can come to me anytime you need something, like I told you before.”

He gets you cry out in pleasure without any concern of receiving complaints from other neighbors, wrapping your legs back and standing between your wide-spread thighs, leaning his weight on your back while his hips rocks unrelentingly. “No more, no more…Simon!” You clenching down on his shaft so nice and hot, milking him loads after loads, the angry tip of his cock abusing every spots inside you, and your legs are shaking uncontrollably when he finally comes one last time, satiated both your needs for now, and you the last thing you feel before succumbing to slumber is a gentle kiss pressing on your twitching, overstimulated clit as his seeds flood out of your swollen pussy.

The relationship between you and him deepens since that night,and he doesn’t stop you or protest when you wear the low-cut top and cute skirt, semi-transparent thigh high stockings keeps attracting his attention to stare at the bare skin of your thighs between them and the skirt, and wave goodbye at him with an apologetic expression before heading off to a party with your college friends. He knows the importance of these social activities between youngsters, so he didn’t get mad or upset, just kiss your temple, reminded you to stay safe and call him whenever you need, then he’d be there in no time.

You sure will turn heads wherever you go tonight, and though there might be some troublesome wankers trying their luck on you, but he knows you won’t even spare them anything beside a polite nod of rejection. You’re all his, you won’t feel the same bliss and love from those young blokes of your age. No one can make you feel as good as he does, they can’t make you squirt all over the floor when he eats you out at the countertop, no one knows how to lower and disperse all your concerns and thoughts like him, with his tongue lapping your perked buds and that long cock massaging your cervix, coaxing countless orgasms out of you before you fall asleep in his embrace contently.

So when you ring him just about 2 hours later, asking if he can come pick you up at the club, he immediately hops in to his truck, pulls up at the location you texted him. He doubts how your breasts haven’t spilled out your low cut tops, but he’s definitely enjoying the view, your cheeks burning from the alcohol, pawing at his shirt and whining about how you missed him, how boring the party was and you just wanted to go home and bounce on his dick through your tipsy state.

Good that Simon parked his truck at a secluded spot, so you don’t need to wait any longer, let him bend you over the hood and kneel down behind you, tongue shoving deep inside, occasionally pulls out and prodding at your pussy to calm you down from keep pleading him to just fuck you already and rubbing his bulge when he just wants to drive you home first. “Will give you the cock you’ve been thinking all night when we’re home, sweetheart.” He speaks against your slick pussy lips before diving back to lick every drop of your sugary juices again.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Pretty thing, isn't she?"

Preview: LnDs boys reacting to other guys hitting on you.

SYLUS

You stood in front of the heavy wooden doors covered in gilt, a gateway exuberating luxury and inviting only the top 1% of the N109's population, which of course, includes Sylus. You had yet to be used to attending such fancy events but Sylus had managed to convince you by being apart of such events, you would be able to establish your name within the N109 zone quicker and that people would learn not to mess with you as much anymore. Perhaps you were not having a clear mind during then but here you stood now, in the middle of a huge banquet hall, in a maroon red dress that makes you feel naked due to how cocooned you feel within the fit.

"Breathe, then maybe you may not feel so nervous." Sylus slipped an arm around you and started to lead you into the highly ornated hall. You could tell that nobody here belonged to the 'average' class as their manners, demeanours and even body languages rotated around the word demure. Escorted to a standing bar table, your partner leaned down just enough for his lips to hover over the side of your ear and you could feel his hot breath tickled against your lobes. "Stay here, I will get us some drinks." And off he went, his tall figure blending into the crowds of dancing participants.

Sylus strutted over towards the bar and casually leaned against it. One good thing about events as such is other than the free flow of alcohol, waiters are built to be more attentive and aware of their surroundings as they do hold a split image of the host of the event. "One whiskey and a glass of lemon soda." The waiter nodded and immediately started to get to work. Sylus then turned around, his eyes scanning the crowds of people and landing on you, the lady in red still standing at the table alone, awaiting for him.

"Eyeing the bird I see?" A voice chimed out of the blue, laced with a thick British accent that any lady would have been charmed over. Sylus's crimson eyes glanced over and caught sight of a man in a tailored suit, brunette hair slicked back and eyes the shade of ocean. "I wonder if she would be pleased to have company for the night." The hint of tease in his voice got the lover of yours quirking an eyebrow, expressing amusement at the man's confidence.

"You can give it a shot." He snarked, one side of his lips tilted upwards to form a smirk. "She does not seem to be the type to let in so easily." The clink of glass onto the table top got Sylus to turn over, grabbing his glass smoothly and tasting the whiskey. "How does a bet sound?"

"Whoever gets her by the end of the night shall be crowned winner then?" The young man downed his vodka shot in one go and he stood straight, adjusting his outfit and shooting his head back to Sylus, who is still smirking in his direction. "It's on, then."

Watching the man walking over to you, each step radiating manly confidence nearly got Sylus laughing, if only the man knew how hard it was for Sylus to get you to just stay with him. "She may be pretty, but she ain't stupid that's for sure." Picking up her glass of lemon soda, he too, started walking towards the table. Seeing you talking to the British man, slightly chuckling got Sylus feeling an ick at the back of his throat and it did not taste good. He made his presence known by loudly clinking the glass of lemon soda onto the table.

You gulped when you saw Sylus had returned, and accepted the glass of lemon soda he had gotten for you. You boyfriend turned over to the British lad and smiled a bit too politely for his usual manners before he spoke. "The moment you had picked her to be your target, is the moment I already knew I won the bet." His eyes gleamed murder under the shine of the crystal chandeliers. "If I were you, I would scamper off immediately before I hunt you down."

XAVIER

It has been a while since you had been on a hotpot date with your lover. Ever since Captain Jenna had assigned him on a mission, it has been hard to match up both of your timings to plan for a date. Hence, once you received the text from your boyfriend stating that his mission had finally met the end of it's trail, you could not hide your excitement and went ahead to book for a hotpot store that had recently opened up just a few streets down. Your sole motivation of booking the store was hearing Tara's praises over the services offered there. She claimed that anyone who goes in would surely come out feeling refreshed and that was what got you sold on making a reservation.

Perhaps, just maybe, the way Tara had phrased that got you picturing a whole different scenario; where an otherworldly hotpot experience was what you were anticipating, with fastidious services and amazing food and offers you a new kind of service. Yet, here you sat, in the middle of a table with tons of half naked men walking around you, serving hotpot dishes. So this was Tara's definition of feeling refreshed. Palming yourself on the forehead, you were figuring why did you bother asking for a hotpot recommendation from one of your girl friends who happens to be single.

"May I help you with something?" A young man, wrapped in biker shorts and an apron approached you and you gulped, eyes immediately avoiding whatever skin he has to show. Seeing your reaction, a chuckled rolled out of his lips and he took a seat beside you, unaware that you already have a boyfriend as Xavier would be slightly late due to an unexpected traffic jam. "Would you like me to give you a massage to ease your tension hmm?"

You gave an awkward chuckle, hands waving back and forth while rejecting his oncoming offer. "I have a boyfriend and I am not interested. I would like to get a menu please." Just by talking to the guy, it left a bitter taste in your mouth, it felt like you were cheating on Xavier although you were barely doing anything. The weight on the couch shifted and you heard a soft thud, seeing the shadow beside you disappearing out of the corner of your eye.

The waiter that had initially served you headed back towards the counter, his other colleagues wriggling their eyebrows at him. "How's it going with that chick, Ken? You manage to ask for her wechat yet?" One of the guys asked, his pearly whites flashing. But Ken shrugged and muttered something about her having a boyfriend. "Well adding her on wechat is not exactly a crime. No harm in storing a cute girl's number in your phone anyways."

A figure walked past them, stopped mid way and approached them. This figure was leaner, taller, and looked more elegant than the other men adorning aprons and biker shorts within the restaurant. "Which girl?" His voice chimed in and Ken responded without much thought, thinking it was one of his colleagues asking for the target. He pointed exactly at you and the stranger's cerulean blue orbs caught yours and his lips pulled into a warm smile. Seeing you being so uneasy within a crowd of half-naked men amuses him. "Easy. If I get her number, does this mean I get to keep her?"

Ken then noticed the source of the voice, a man dressed up in a wool hoodie, with sandy blond hair and dreamy blue eyes and an innocent smile. He holds very effiminate features for a man. Given that the store was not opened for that long, Ken thought he may be one of the newcomers coming for an interview. "Sure buddy, if you get it, I guess you can keep it. But she does have a boyfriend, she said it herself." Xavier chuckled and casually shrugged his shoulders and sauntered over to you. The men stood by the counter and watched intently.

Watching Xavier talking to you and getting you to smile got the men to exchange glances at one another. Maybe they are missing something, or maybe it did hurt their small ego a little. But the moment Xavier got you by the hand and started to lead you out of the restaurant, the men were shocked, eyes widened and jaws slacked at how Xavier could easily get you to comply. Walking past Ken, Xavier stopped to say. "Next time, if you want to lay a bet, don't be such an airhead and at least lay it with someone who does not have a boyfriend already."

RAFAYEL

Getting stuck in a foreign city with little to no guidance is not that rare of an occurrence as Rafayel does enjoy being 'lost' with you. "That is how you can truly get to enjoy a city." Is what he would usually use to comfort you. However, that sentence of his may only work if the both of you are not entirely soaked under the heavy rain. Shivering, hungry and worn out. "Shall we head in there for some shelter?" Rafayel suggested, slender index finger pointed towards the building ahead of the both of you.

With a slight nod, he led you towards the building. It turned out to be a bustling bar within the small town. Locals filled to the brim, chattering in their own mothertongue while enjoying each other's company. "Stay here, I will get us some drinks." Rafayel informed you and headed off after pressing a small kiss onto your left cheek. The both of your arrival certainly did alerted a couple of the locals. Seeing a drenched couple within a bar is a good sign for them to know that you guys are far from home.

Perched against a standing bar table, you studied the crowd that were occupying the dance floor. The crowd are drenched in the bask of neon glow emitted by the LED lights that hung high above the ceilings. Some of them had drinks in their hand as they swayed to the beat while some others were clearly in their own world, striking dance moves that are attracting a spectacle. "Hey!" A voice called out to you and you turned your head, landing your sight on a tall male figure, with hair that are akin to the sunset and with milky pale skin. Upon approaching you, you caught sight of his emerald eyes that sparkled like eccentric jewels under the dim lights. "You dropped this?!"

Looking down at his palm, he held out your phone to you. The music is probably too loud for you to even notice that your phone had fell out of your pocket and landed onto the floor with a thud. "Yeah!" You responded with the volume that hopefully reaches his ears. The ginger haired man smiled and stood next to you and he started striking a conversation with you, asking if you were alone and if you happen to be a local as well. "Oh, I am from Linkon City and I am not here alone!" You smiled awkwardly but also responded out of a polite manner.

A hand that landed at your back made you jumped slightly and you retreated from the guy's vicinity when you realised he was trying to get close to you. "What's wrong?" Feigning shock, he only closed in on you, a smirk creeping its way onto his face. He looked nothing different than a wolf that is ready to pounce whenever he finds the chance to. "Whatever happens in here, stays in here." His statement got your voice stuck in your throat, your chest tightening when you realised that you are about to get jumped by a 'kind' stranger.

"You have to try so hard to get her to pay attention to you?" A mocking voice came from behind you and your heart sighed in relief when Rafayel towered behind you, two glasses in hand and a genuine amused smile stamped onto his features. "I didn't even have to try to get her to come on this trip with me." Rafayel casually handed you your drink and he took up the space in front of you, his height on par with the guy whom had tried to hit on you. Rafayel's eyes gleamed a shade of striking electric blue when he leaned in towards the guy, his demeanour taking a turn towards being protective and establishinig dominance.

This side of Rafayel got your heart lurching for a moment. Seeing such a nonchalant and charming individual taking a turn towards being protective over you got the butterflies in your stomach blindly colliding with the walls of your insides. "Touch her one more time, I dare you." Snapping his finger, the flames of his evol came alive and the guy muttered curses, stepping aback. "I might not be able to guarantee you would be able to leave here in one piece."

ZAYNE

The cardiac surgeon's off day is spent on paying you a surprise visit during your demonstration day. This day in specific is held annually at the Linkon City Hall, where the public are informed about the roles of a deepspace hunter and it is also a day for the organisation to recruit potential new hunters for their task forces. He remembered that day as you stood in front of him, with a brochure shoved into his arms before you sprinted off like a whimpering fox. The piece of paper featured your face on it, posing with your guns, with a huge title pasted above your head that is promoting 'Hunter's Showdown Performance'. Zayne could not help his lips from tugging into a small smile as he stared blankly at your wannabe serious face on the piece of paper.

You stood at the back of the stage, isolating yourself from the rest of the crew as you quietly rehearsed your steps. You were only given a month to prepare for this demonstration and knowing that you are not able to strike to wanderer actors makes it all the more tedious for you to rehearse your steps. Every movement, every swing of the guns and every shot has to be precise and realistic, minus the actual damage to be taken by the other actors. Executing a full 360 turn, you came to a halt when your name was hollered out by someone in the background. "Y/n!" You turned your head and your partner came up to you, his smile wide. "Hey, you rehearsing for your part?"

Upon nodding your head, he proceeded to ask if it would be alright for him to rehearse his part with you. On usual notes, hunters are usually dispatched in pairs and since Tara is not around, hence Captain Jenna decided to pair you up with Christopher. The rehearse took around 15 minutes till he paused, patting you on your shoulder encouragingly. "You got anyone coming over to watch you?" You opened your mouth to speak but a voice chimed in before you could even say anything else.

"Yes." Zayne stood behind you, his features darkened at the sight of the hand of a stranger's on your shoulder. Christopher coughed slightly and retreated his touch, feeling guilty instantly. You were of course, shocked, that Zayne had managed to make time to come and see this silly demonstration of yours. When you gave him the brochure, you were certainly not expecting him to appear in person. You figured he might just watch it via the online link from his office if he happened to not any surgeries scheduled for the day. You were totally wronged.

"You...uhm...never told me you had a boyfriend." Christopher chuckled awkwardly, his hand lightly tapping and rubbing the back of his neck to somewhat soothe himself from the tense stare he was getting from a pair of unfamiliar emerald orbs.

Zayne took this chance to stand beside you and he extended a hand towards the guy, expression still indifferent. "I am Zayne, y/n's boyfriend, it is nice to meet you." Christopher did shook his hand out of respect but did not took long to stay, muttering that he has to get his makeup done and off he went. You could somehow feel dark clouds crowding in above your head, a storm lingering in the back of Zayne's gaze. "Was that the guy that you were supposed to perform with?" His voice was gentle, but he awaits for your answer.

"Yeah...Tara could not make it during this event, hence Captain Jenna got him to pair up with me for the demonstration." Your voice was slightly quivering, thinking that Zayne might be upset with you not openly telling your colleagues that you are already in a relationship. But you came from his standpoint, as Zayne is someone who cares about his privacy, you figured he might not appreciate you going on yapping about you being in a relationship and would much rather keep it low-key and only between the two of you. "I'm sorry I never mentioned about you to any of my colleagues as I thought you would like to keep our relationship private and confidential."

Zayne's eyes caught yours and he smiled warmly, his hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. You froze, knowing that at this point you would be receiving tons of stares from your surrounding colleagues. "Y/n, as much as I would like to keep our relationship private, I would not like it if someone were to try to take advantage on you just because they think they could." His palm smoothed the baby hairs atop of your head, his smile still evident as he continued speaking softly to you. "If you find it hard to tell your colleagues about us because of me, I will just let my actions show them what we are."

[solbaby7]

Hii could I please get a neat Moscow mule with a salt rim ❤️

🧉here you go 💗💗

[ “i don’t like the way he / she looks at you” + smut + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

There had always been whispers about Illyrian males and the possessive streak that scorches its way through their veins. How it awakened with their first cry at birth and remains until their last breath.

You’d never thought you’d witness it firsthand.

Seeing that shift in Azriel’s features is unmistakable. The comfortable lines of his stoicism usually rests heavy along his brow bone, casting shadows along his eyes until the rich amber of his iris is stark in contrast. Even then, you’re used to seeing some semblance of warmth residing in there but the danger lingering within them now is staggering—forces the object of his surveillance to raise a hand to the back of their neck, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit.

Az is too good to be caught though. Too skilled to be seen. A wolf that blends in seamlessly in a crowd full of sheep and he detects it immediately when another predator is present. “Who is that?”

You follow his line of sight, grumbling in distaste almost instantly when you notice that familiar tuft of curly blonde hair. “Tyson,” His brow raises at your tone, stance sturdy and arms crossed over his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him; briefly acknowledging the sentient shadows that nudge you in closer, partially hiding you behind his bulk. Protecting what they deemed as theirs. “—but all the Valkyrie’s call him tick.”

“Tick.”

“Yeah,” Your head nods along in confirmation, fingers hooking in the loops of your leathers to shimmy them up higher on your hips. “‘Cause he latches on like one—damn near impossible to shake.”

There’s a brief pause, a rumble of a noise vibrating through his chest like a lion in wait that rests on its haunches. Azriel’s prey drive is triggered, specially attuned to the way Tyson leans casually against a post, blue eyes trained on you while you warm up, taking time admiring the way your leathers fit like second skin. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He’s skilled with a sword, Az notes, but that wandering eye is sure to get him killed. The shadowsinger can feel the way his fingers form into fists when Tyson’s gaze meanders down the slope of your back and settles around the generous curve of your ass. It wobbles temptingly as you practice, core tight and form stunning as all sorts of daggers are shot through the air at warp speed.

Every blade hits its respective bullseye.

You're one hell of a prize. One that Tyson so foolishly thinks he’s good enough to win.

Shoulders square, feet apart, knees ever so slightly bent. Even breaths as you line up the next blade, eying where you wish for it to land. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to fuck you."

You pray he doesn't notice the way your body freezes in place, grip faltering on the hilt of your dagger. A thick swallow, throat clumsily clearing and lashes fluttering with nerves as you make a point to keep your face forward. "How would you know what that looks like?"

"Because, I want to fuck you." Thighs clench at the flippant way he says it—so casually. Like it's common knowledge. As if he hasn't just rendered you speechless and filled you full of want off one sentence alone. The smell of him engulfs you when he closes the distance, his chest to your back. Shadows teasing at the sides of your thighs like phantom palms that waste no time memorizing the new terrain. "You're holding that wrong."

"Am I?" More intelligent words are robbed right off of your tongue when he presses against you, the weight of his growing erection digging into your spine, teasing around the dimples that rest right above your ass. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to adjust your fingers around the daggers hilt.

Never once had you thought such a simple touch could ignite this kind of spark within you. A fire that damn near burns you alive; it begins in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at organs and muscle, tearing through soft tendons and sinew in its desperation for release. "Like this, baby." His lips graze the curve of your ear, forcing goosebumps to assault your skin.

Azriel doesn't adjust a thing about your form. Instead, he openly gropes at the fat of your hips. Slides his palm possessively over the soft swell of your abdomen. Trails a hand up the crease of your breasts until a five finger grip is curling its way around your throat. "What are you doing?" You whisper, craning your neck to provide more access. Allowing the steady pressure squeezing at your jugular.

He's putting on one hell of a show.

Staring that blonde bastard right in the eye as he drags his nose along your temple, pressing his lips against your skin just because he can. "Pest control." A thick thigh nudges its way between your legs, the bulk of Azriel's body blocking you from all peering eyes but one.

Tyson vibrates with rage as Az guides your hips, dragging your clothed cunt along solid muscle until lids flutter and lips part. It's an agonizing kind of pleasure—one that's everything and nothing at the same time. Stimulating but not fully satisfying when you really crave the turgid length of his cock that strains against his leathers.

It takes a second too long to realize that he's not really doing this with your pleasure in mind.

He barely pays you any real attention as discreet shadows creep under your top to twist at taut nipples, squeezing and pulling until the heartbeat in your chest travels all the way down to your pussy.

No, he merely uses you as a pawn. Plucking and toying, licking and biting at the junction of your neck until all that can be scented on you is arousal and Illyrian. "Az, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet, sweet thing. Want him to look at you when you cum for me."

[maxlarens]

perhaps bsf!reader and ibiza!lando in a sitch where like, lando isn’t getting girls in the clurb bc everyone thinks reader is his girlfriend and he ends up pushing her away????????

-🧃

perfect and beautiful thank you!!! i feel like it’s been five hundred years since i wrote or posted anything, i sooo hope u guys enjoy this! not much lando when i read it back but i guess i had some emotions to hash out here?🤨

There's a certain level of willingness to be observed that you have to subject yourself to in being Lando’s friend. You know that full well. Have been more than aware of it in the past few years, as Lando performs better, becomes more and more known.

You’re used to it for the most part.

The wandering eyes that slide right off you and Fewtrell, to instead favour Lando’s head of dark curls. The skeptical ones that linger, wondering what someone like you is doing around someone like him.

At least you have Max to commiserate with. To share that pulse of shame that beats like a second heartbeat occasionally. To remind yourself that Lando is your friend, not some burning star whose wreckage you’re caught in.

You’d never want him to feel like his success is a burden, or that it’s not always the easiest thing in the world to be his friend. That’s not really the case anyway— you’ve never had a friendship like the one you have with him. Max might be a close second, but it’s not the same. Point is, you’d move heaven and earth just to continue being friends with Lando.

It’s just— the eyes—

There are a lot of them on you here.

Appraising (but never of you independently, always in relation to Lando. You can tell), skeptical, jealous, bitter, even pitying. You think it must have something to do with Lando and the way he’s got his arm slung over your shoulder. The way you’re leaning into him as he bops to the beat of the music. The way you’re holding his drink in your hand, lifting it up for him occasionally so he can gesticulate in his conversation with some friend of his that you’re only vaguely acquainted with.

You feel the eyes on you as you half listen to them chat. Something dislodges, seems to wriggle around under your skin, or settles in the pit in your stomach and gnaws. Anxiety, something like it. Shame again perhaps? You just know Lando’s arm feels heavy. Your clothes don’t fit right, on your body or in this club. You’re suddenly sure that you’re an imposter, a fraud.

You look for Max, eyes darting around but only find unfamiliar faces looking back at you.

It’s not that your chest starts to feel tight or anything like that, it’s just that out of nowhere there seem to be one million ants crawling around inside your body. You take a deep, steadying breath and it burns. The back of your neck seems to give way, your head spinning.

You blink hard, bring yourself back.

You duck out from under Lando’s arm and mutter, “Be back soon. Bathroom.”

Lando nods absently, lets his arm drop back to his side. You’re not sure what to do with your drink or his, he doesn’t seem to care. So you drop them on an empty bar table and flee to the toilets.

They’re semi-private, dark and (best of all) quiet. Apparently soundproofed from the club outside of it, there’s some crackling lo-fi playing on low volume and blissfully no one else seems to be in here with you.

Because it’s apparently a bathroom for the upper-echelon, there’s a plush armchair in the lounge section that you immediately collapse into. You shove your face into the cushions and breathe slow until your heartbeat returns to what feels like an appropriate pace.

You pull out your phone to text Max,

Ever reliable and always understanding, Max talks you down from the proverbial ledge. He convinces you to go back out and to talk to Lando, who’s always been able to kill the nervousness in your gut when he puts his mind to it. If that fails, then Max promises to order you a taxi back to the hotel.

You thank him profusely, apologise for interrupting anything he was doing with Pietra and gather yourself as effectively as you can—

(“Hey. Is she your girlfriend, man?”

Obtuse as ever, Lando frowns, eyebrows furrowing with it, “What? Nah, she’s my best mate.”

Tony, tips his head back and laughs, “Doesn’t look like it to me. Are you sure?”

Lando nods, crease creasing even harder, “Definitely.”

“Dunno mate, you’re all cozy with ‘er,” Tony shrugs, “If you’re looking to get some this weekend you might want to dial it back.”)

—and back into the crowd.

You fight through to the booth where Lando, his friend and a few others, that you’re again, only tangentially acquainted with are. Lando has moved to sit down on a couch, still wrapped up in conversation with the same guy. He’s got another drink.

You’re half-expecting him to hand a vodka soda with lime to you when you sit down next to him. You feel a confusing mix of guilt and upset when he doesn’t, only barely turns his head to acknowledge you. You sit for a moment, adjusting your dress your bag. Not needing him to stop talking altogether, but hoping to be brought into the conversation. Even for Lando to move so you’re not just staring at his back.

Okay, you blink, maybe this is on you? Maybe you shouldn’t expect drinks from him like that, maybe you should be grown up enough to know how to enter a conversation. Maybe you shouldn’t be sitting here feeling sorry for yourself as you watch him lean over and talk to a girl on the other side of the railing.

You’re ignoring the burning thing in your eyes as you survey the back of Lando’s head and the pretty girl that he’s hanging out of his seat to talk to.

She doesn’t look anything like you.

You feel pathetic just watching them. Especially when her eyes flit briefly to you and you offer up a well-meaning smile. It’s a little weak, a little cobbled together but you’re not a bitch. She might be though— she sneers at you. Only for a short moment, when Lando’s not really looking, but you see it nonetheless.

Oh. Alright. That one’s gonna stick with you.

You turn away immediately, blinking quickly, but tears dropping anyway. You pull your phone out, admit defeat and try to at least quell the thing that’s lodged itself in your throat all of a sudden.

You sling your bag back over your body, then reach out to grab at Lando’s shoulder. You squeeze a little, wait for him to turn his attention to you while you press a knuckle not-gently into your eyeball.

He half-turns, looking up at you but holding a hand out to someone who’s talking to him. Still half-listening to them. You frown, feeling confused over anything else. This… isn’t like him. You don’t get it, why isn’t he treating you like he normally is? You’d understand if he wanted to spend time with other people over you, you get that. Why wouldn’t he just say that if that’s what he wanted? Because that’s clearly the case.

You manage to choke out, “I’m gonna head off.”

Eyes glittering and huge in the dancing lights of the club, his mouth parted, he nods up at you in confirmation. Briefly, you make eye contact before he’s being drawn back into conversation by a shout.

“Sure, yeah. See you later,” he says, patting the hand on your shoulder, then dismissing you as he turns away to pay attention to someone else.

You can’t tell if he’s being a total asshole or you’re pathetic. You know what Max would say. And you’re leaning towards the same thing right now— he’d have known. Seen it plain as fucking day in your expression when he’d looked at you. You don’t know what to make of it. You think you just feel sick.

It’s not like you need him to cater to your every whim. You’d just expected a little bit more. At least for him to notice that you’d nearly had a panic attack in the bathroom. At least for him to not go from being totally normal to icing you out all of a sudden—

and you know he’d done it on purpose, intention aside. You know. Because, historically, he’s been no stranger to it. He knows exactly how it feels.

You’re more hurt by that than anything else.

this turned out longer than i expected lol. but yeah, angsty sorry i didn’t prepare u guys😵‍💫 i’ll either write a part two or i’ll write something else for them in ibiza that isn’t so angsty soon!!!!!

[dmitriene]

zombie simon riley who comes back to you, you know he's certainly dead, seen the way his body looked after being shot, unmoving, pale with eyes closed and pale eyelashes feathering against his cheeks, no longer tormented, he looked suspiciously calm, as if under an endless, thick veil of sleep that would not soon dissipate, especially when both his captain and the medics had announced to you the verdict that he was no longer here.

but you see him, coming back to your shared home should the night envelope the sky, you see his heavy, milky eyes, honeyed cornea is almost invisible behind the deathly veil, which does not disappear, plunging everything into cold, apathy from the mere sight, but something in simon seems to be the same familiar and warm, more than just a tormenting nightmare.

this is a deep, scarlet stain of blood on his chest, another scar among many others on his strong, steel like body, but this time deadly, a thin silver chain, holding a barely flickering on the ghostly glow of the moon's rays ring, the one that bound you together more than just comrades, friends, but as husband and wife, and therefore, even after the death, he found his way home.

visions, hallucinations, physical trauma, he can't be here, your dear simon, but for some reason, he moves, controls himself, his heavy, dirty shoes thumping on the floor, and you practically see he's leaving small traces of dirt, before you feel the warmth of his touch seeping through the thick fabric of his rough gloves, thumb pushing beneath your chin, cupping at your jaw, making you meet his gaze.

lidded, softened at the edges eyes that look at you with a longed, recognizing warmth, it's him, your husband, even if not alive, even if smelling of rot and metal tang of blood, cloaking you, muddling and messing with your head so cruelly, when simon rolls the edge of his balaclava up, messy, crumpled, fingers moving with effort, but when he does, your lips meet, teeth sliding, biting and licking, you know that your husband is back home.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[figthoughts]

thinking about dean letting his submissive side show for the first time with his gf! 18+

warnings: smut, sub!dean x softdom!reader (pure sweetness i promise)

+

you’ve been dating for a few months and yeah... the sex is great. mind-blowing even.

but one day something just snaps inside of dean after you come back from a hunt, his adrenaline racing as he pulls you into the motel room after telling sam to “take a walk, man.”

he lays you down on the bed gently, his eyes locked on yours. you notice a softness in them that you’re not used to, not the usual smirk and playful glint that normally dances around in his eyes when he gets you into bed.

you sit up on your elbows and he crawls up to you, resting his head on your chest.

“love you,” he’d murmur out, or something else that’d catch you by surprise. he’d look up at you with his big, soft green eyes and you’d melt cause he’s just so pretty.

so you’d say it, “i love you too, my pretty boy,” playing with his hair.

and that would do it.

he’d smile so sheepishly and something inside of you would snap too; the urge to be gentle, to be soft, to take charge of this beautiful, green eyed man and show him how much you care for him.

“cm’ere, my sweet boy,” you’d murmur.

and he would. he’d listen and let his lips find yours desperately and needily, his hands cupping your cheeks and jaw as he moves above you. you’d probably feel him begin to grind against your thigh at this point, clearly wanting more but not wanting to force anything.

you’d smile against his lips and pull back, “want me to touch you, baby?”

“mhmm...” dean would nod and tilt his head at you, feeling a sense of comfort at your gentleness. he would let out a soft moan at the feeling of your hand moving into his jeans and stroking him softly.

“does that feel good?” you’d ask, toying with his sensitive tip a little, earning a soft whimper from dean as he nods.

dean would push down his jeans and boxers, leaving himself fully bare in front of you on the bed. you’d smile, still stroking his pink cock as his lips part, letting out a whimpery breath.

god, it was kinda hot to see your boyfriend go from a crazy killing machine on the hunt, to a soft whimpering mess in front of you now.

you’d pull your hand away and unbutton your own jeans, pushing them down with dean’s help. as you get settled back on the bed after removing both your shirts, you’d see the green eyed hunter slowly pumping himself.

so you’d shake your head and say, “don’t. let me do it.”

dean would drop his hand, his eyes flickering up to yours as your hand moves back to his throbbing cock. his gaze would fall over you, taking in your soft skin and the way you relax on the bed in front of him.

“s’okay, you can touch me, dean,” you’d chuckle softly.

he’d move his hand down your side, caressing you in a loving way that you only seemed to get after sex with him. his breathing is heavy as you pump him, his hands palming your breasts before moving down in between your thighs.

he’d smile with his glassy eyes and stroke your pussy, letting his fingers get covered in your slick, before settling on your clit. you’d moan through a grin and dean’d breathe out, “you’re so beautiful. can’t believe you’re mine.”

that would earn a genuine smile from you, “all yours. and you’re mine, right? all mine?” you’d ask, trying to hold back the teasing tone in your voice at your boyfriend’s unusual softness.

dean would blush and nod, “yeah, i’m all yours. every part of me, mind, heart, soul.”

“yeah, you are. this pretty pink cock too?” you’d grin and raise your brows, stroking him more intentionally now as his fingers slip through your folds.

he’d nod again, “yeah, ‘specially my cock, baby. all yours.” he flashes a small grin, a hint of his usual smugness appearing momentarily, before his face contorts with pleasure.

“damn right. only mine.”

dean would keep letting out whimpers and soft little groans as you pump him, his tip leaking precum. you collect it on your thumb and bring it to your lips, a whine leaving dean’s mouth as he watches you taste him.

you’d smirk, “lay on the bed, dean.”

he’d lay down, no hesitation, no arguments. his big green eyes’d stare up at you as you’d hover over his cock.

you would see it twitching in anticipation as you move your head down towards it. you grab it and give him a soft kitten lick on his tip. dean would groan, “fuck… more, please.”

feeling him literally throb in your hand, you’d play nice and take his tip into your mouth, your tongue swirling on the underside of his sensitive cock.

this’d cause him to whine and throw his head back. you’d chuckle softly around him, the vibration causing him to groan and buck his hips. you take him deeper into your mouth, still being gentle with him.

you’d trace along a vein on the underside of his length, another loud groan erupting from his lips. with a grin around his cock, you’d start bobbing your head up and down.

dean would look at you in such awe. such adoration. his girl. his beautiful, sweet girl, being gentle with him just like he needs.

he wouldn’t be able to help the pathetic noises that leave his lips, “mmph… fuck, baby… feels so good,” he’d mumble out.

your eyes would be locked on his, watching the way he looks at you. he looks so soft and needy. so desperate… just for you.

you’d feel him start to tense, his cock twitching in your hand and mouth. and you knew he was close. so you’d pull him out, a whine coming from dean in protest, already missing the wet warmth of your mouth.

“hey, no. don’t you wanna be inside me, pretty boy?” you tilt your head with a small grin, your eyes locking onto his pleading ones.

“y-yes… please, i need to be inside you… feel you around me, baby. please?” he’d look at you with his eyes glazed over, his hardened cock bright pink and covered in your saliva.

“atta boy,” you’d coo as you move forward to straddle him.

dean would bite his lip and groan as you pump his length a few more times before settling over it, his tip poking at your entrance, “say please,” you would look down at him, seeing the needy expression on his face.

“p-please!” he’d frown up at you, shifting his hips, looking for some relief.

you’d smile at him, “say it again. let me know how bad you want this, baby.” you’d watch his jaw drop slightly as his eyes flicker between your face and your pussy hovering over his erection.

“please, baby, please! i need you so bad. please!” the desperation clear in his voice.

so you’d sink down onto his cock, letting it stretch you out as you let out a soft groan. dean, on the other hand, letting out a loud whimper, dropping his head back onto the pillows as his hands move to your thighs, trying to ground himself.

“feels so good,” he’d mutter breathily, squeezing your thighs as his member throbs inside you.

“yeah, does,” you’d stay still on him for a few moments, “you fill me so well, dean.”

he’d let out a strangled breath at your words. you could tell he needed you to move, so you would. you start grinding slowly on his cock, moving a hand to his cheek. his eyes flicker to yours as you gently caress his cheekbone.

“you’re being so good, dean. so good.”

he’d look at you, his face contorted in pleasure, but his eyes still soft and full of need. you’d never seen your boyfriend like this before, looking like he’s about to burst from desperation and pleasure.

dean’s hands would move to your hips, trying to guide you over his cock quicker.

“hey, no! hands off. let me do this,” you’d say firmly, holding eye contact with him. he’d pout and reluctantly drop his hands from your hips, finding the bedsheets and gripping them instead.

you’d speed up on his cock a little, feeling him throb against your walls, “good boy.”

dean would let out a whimper as you grind on his cock. you’d see the tension in dean’s face. he’d be trying to hold on, wanting the feeling of your warmth wrapped around his length to last as long as possible, but struggling to keep himself under control.

dean’s cock would brush against your gspot, making you tighten around him with every movement. your hand would find it’s way to your clit, rubbing expertly and driving you closer to your orgasm.

“f-feels so good, baby. you feel like h-heaven,” dean would groan out breathily, feeling you clench around him.

you’d let out a moan and start bouncing on him, desperate for him to hit your gspot harder. dean would moan loudly and squeeze his eyes shut, trying his best to hold off his release.

“fuck, gonna- gonna cum if you keep- mmm, god…. keep doing that,” dean would mumble.

“don’t cum until i do, okay? be a good boy,” you’d breathe out as you bounce on his thick pink member and rub your clit, “i’m close… just a little longer.”

dean would whine and grip the bedsheets until his knuckles turn white. his head would drop back into the pillow and he’d shake his head, trying to not cum into your cunt.

you’d watch him in immense pleasure and feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you neared your orgasm. you loved seeing him like this, desperately trying to hold on for you, his face contorting like crazy as you ride him.

you’d keep bouncing, feeling him hit all the right spots, your moans getting louder as you reach the edge. your pussy would clench and you’d look down at him, “dean, i’m gonna-”

his eyes would snap open and find yours, “please… please cum. let me- ughhh… let me cum!” he’d beg.

you’d feel yourself cumming on his cock, “fuck! oh, god…. i’m cumming, dean….” you’d whine and moan, throwing your head back as you keep bouncing and tightening around his length.

he’d immediately shoot his thick warm ropes of cum into your cunt, loud whines and groans leaving his lips as he twitches inside you.

“fuck! fuck…. feels so good…” he’d mumble breathily.

your jaw would drop as you look down at him, feeling him fill you up.

you’d keep bouncing on him, letting his cock shove his cum further into you and letting it drip everywhere.

dean’s eyes would drop down to where you two connect and he’d let out a breath at the sight.

as your high begins to end, you’d slow your movements to a still. you’d both be panting and looking at each other, dean’s eyes filled with satisfaction and neediness.

you’d smile and lean forward, earning a small hiss from dean at the stimulation on his sensitive cock. you’d cup his cheek again, “there we go, baby. you feel good?”

dean would nod and blink slowly, enjoying your gentle hand on his cheek, “yeah… yeah, so good. so fuckin’ good,” he’d pant out.

you’d smile and settle down onto his chest, letting his softening cock rest in you as you lay your head down. you’d lay in silence for a few moments, both of you catching your breath.

“thank you,” he’d murmur and kiss your forehead, “i needed that.”

“i know,” you’d say breathily, tracing shapes onto his chest.

A/N: hope this was cute! idk i love soft n sweet dean. <3

feedback is appreciated and requests are always open!

[paarksunghoon]

hyung line requestttttt

Getting high with Sunghoon but he has an oral fixation — 🦔

u get me.

***

“Open up.”

Sunghoon’s deep, raw voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your body feels heavy as you sit on the couch, almost as if you were a magnet drawn to a surface. He’s holding a joint between his fingers as you turn your head to look at him and his eyes focus on your mouth. You do as he says.

The joint between your lips feels natural. He lights the end until smoke is visible and watches the way you inhale while keeping eye contact. When your lungs breathe in the euphoric property, you avert your head to look at the ceiling and blow the smoke away from him.

“You get hotter every time.” That makes you laugh.

“Are you turned on watching me smoke, baby?”

Sunghoon nods and takes a small drag for himself and puts his palm on your thigh. “Makes me wanna fuck you.”

“O-Oh yeah?” The smoothness of his hand slides up and down slowly like he’s trying to hold himself back. His fingertips toy with the hem of his shirt on your chest and dips his fingers until they’ve disappeared just a little.

Sunghoon didn’t get high much before meeting you. It was more of a casual thing, maybe once in a blue moon if someone else offered and if he felt good enough to do it. There was partial curiosity in marijuana but Sunghoon panicked at the thought of trying it by himself.

Meeting you happened by chance at a party two months ago. It was mildly chilly as winter turned into spring when he stood next to you in Heeseung’s basement, leaning his back against a wall with your mixed friend groups standing in a circle.

Something about your quick whips tugged at his heartstrings. He laughed at your jokes and didn’t mind it when your shoulder bumped against his when you talked. It almost felt intimate in that way. You were two strangers who met each other an hour prior and there he was, looking at your lips every chance he got.

Sunghoon doesn’t quite know how he did it, but he managed to score your number by the end of the night. You called him cute and made his ears flush. When he confided in you about wanting to get high but being afraid to do so, you told Sunghoon to be with people who make him feel safe.

He grew infatuated with you and the way you encouraged him to be more outspoken if he wanted something. You were so cool in a way he wish he was but he chalks it up to the confidence you’ve built for yourself. So carefree and lighthearted, you took life’s challenges with stride and refused to let yourself get knocked down. It was inspiring to see you be unapologetic about yourself. There wasn’t anyone in the world who could push you down because you wouldn’t let them.

Two weeks into knowing you, the two of you hooked up for the first time in the backseat of his car after a night of banter and sexual tension. He pulled over the side of the road in the dead of night and beckoned you to the backseat. Too horny to think, he gave you one chance to pass on him before pulling his dick out of his pants.

There was little foreplay because of the angle and the sheer urgency since you were in public. But that wasn’t a problem because you became extreme aroused when Sunghoon started to manhandle you with the kind of confidence he’d never shown you before. He pulled your panties off of your body and spread your legs with his strength and watched you ooze out your arousal and pushed his dry tip against you.

He let it glide up and down with rushed hips until he was dipping the tip inside. He felt so good even with just this taste. Sunghoon moans and felt your pussy clench around him when he pulled out to put a condom on. He fucked you so hard the car shook with vigor until the two of you lay together well spent, and you had wondered how you could get him to be so forward with you again.

That moment began your friends-with-benefits arrangement with him. Somehow, as he got closer to you, Sunghoon felt enough with you to get truly high for the first time.

It was cute, the way he coughed the first time smoking a joint. You kissed his cheek and told him to take a small breath and hold it in longer than he thinks he needed to. He followed your instructions and you praised him for being so good at listening.

The two of you don’t go anywhere farther than grinding when you’re both inebriated. The thrill of it all is euphoric to Sunghoon no matter if it seems unconventional. You’ve talked about it—having sex while high is on a bucket list for the two of you—and agreed that if it felt right, why not try it?

So now you sit facing Sunghoon as you watch him expertly inhale a puff of smoke and push his lips against yours. It travels into your mouth and the proximity of his lips makes you shudder. Sunghoon keeps his hand on you and pries your legs open slowly.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers as he pecks your mouth. His plump lips feel like pillows. Sunghoon drags his fingers across the hem of your panties, tracing the fabric before sliding his fingers up and down your slit. “God, you’re so wet, too.”

His soft touch tingles in a way that travels to your toes. Sunghoon comes closer to lick your neck before pressing small kisses over it. The sensation is astounding. Every nerve in your body is alert and you’ve never felt more aroused in your entire life.

“I’m so lucky to get to fuck you,” he says against your neck. “I’ve never had anyone better.”

And, well, that’s true. You knew he had a girlfriend before you but when you both started to open up about sexual history and preferences, you learned that Sunghoon’s ex girlfriend didn’t quite meet him halfway.

His confession makes you clench but your words get stuck in your throat with his sudden confession. It turns you on more than you’d like to admit. Sunghoon pulls your panties off completely and kneels on the floor until his face hovers over you.

“Can I?”

Within a fraction of a second of you nodding, Sunghoon’s sticking his tongue out and licking a fat stripe up your core. It’s astonishing the way he maintains being anywhere between dominant and desperate when he’s high. It’s like his brain can’t choose how he wants to act and so his desires come out without abandon. His typically hesitant self is replaced by someone who isn’t afraid to show you how badly he wants you.

Sunghoon lets his spit drip down his tongue until your pussy’s wet enough to glisten. He licks it all up and pushes his tongue harder against you until he feels your toes pressing against his back as you arch yourself into his mouth.

You can tell he’s into it when he allows you to suffocate him. Sunghoon doesn’t resist much when your legs close around his head. In fact, you think he might enjoy being restricted like this because his tongue pushes into you like he’s trying to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle. In and out does he move his mouth and every pass makes your legs feel like they’re about to fall apart.

He moans into you when he feels your fingers carding through his hair and tugging on the strands whenever he pushes his tongue into you harder. Sunghoon doesnt care that his mouth and chin have become sopping wet with your arousal and his spit. He welcomes the mess, even.

Sunghoon pulls his head back just a little to see the way you look down at him. The eye contact makes you clench and he chuckles straight into your pussy, which makes your toes curl and back arch even higher from the couch beneath you.

He looks like a sex god at this angle and you’re sure some divine power from above must’ve loved you enough to give you someone as handsome and as caring as Sunghoon. His hands are so gentle on your thighs, caressing your soft skin while his tongue licks your slit like you’re his favorite treat he’s trying to savor.

Sunghoon always brings you across the finish line and it’s something you appreciate about him. He moves his tongue with precision, even if patterns he draws feel random at best. In the time he’s gotten to know you intimately, you’ve been wondering if he’s learning about your body every time he sees you naked.

He coaxes you into an orgasm when you push your hands into his. Sunghoon immediately clasps his fingers in yours and eases the pressure on your core once your release hits his tongue. He laps it up like he hasn’t had a sip of water in days and cleans you up to the best of his ability. Sunghoon’s tongue feels so soft and gentle as you come down from your orgasm but the high from the marijuana is still a lingering presence, aiding in your euphoric come down.

The two of you look at each other like you know there’s an unspoken presence between the two of you. For now, Sunghoon smiles at you in the way he does when he’s trying to figure out a way to tell you he likes you without directly saying it.

You silence him with a kiss and hope he knows you like him too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[l4ndonorizz]

sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”