#king dust• your arms to keep me warm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puckinghischier · 5 months ago

Note

so hi.. i keep thinking about how hot (and probably hopefully rough) sex would’ve been after last night’s game. you do with that information what you’d like.. i just thought i’d share my thoughts y’know completely and utterly innocent like.

✶ hope you had the best day alli, baby!! ‹𝟹

oh harls, my beautiful, beautiful quinn lover.

of course quinn would be in the need of some…rage activities once he got home. he’d be seething the entire bus ride back to the hotel, thinking about how cocky those assholes on the kings were all night. i mean, the hit on brock? the multiple intentional penalties? the cheap move from clarke?

it was all he could do to contain himself until his penalty, finally having had enough of the nasty plays. and while he was letting himself seethe and stew in his hatred, all he could think about is the fact you’re going to be waiting in his hotel room for him.

when he walks through the door, you’re laying on the king sized bed, having received his text he sent you from the locker room directly after the game.

naked. on the bed. now. absolutely no touching yourself (trust me, i’ll fucking know). don’t move until i say so.

he made you send him a picture for confirmation, wanting to know you’ll be so worked up in anticipation by the time he walks through that door you’ll be putty in his hands.

and while he’s already worked up and agitated from the game, the sight of your hand snaked between your legs, head thrown back onto his pillow, soft pants falling from your lips, has him seeing red.

he drops his bag loudly, seeing as you were so lost in the feeling of your own fingers you didn’t hear the heavy door open and shut.

the sound finally startles you out of your blissful state, arms flying up to cover yourself in a panic, dropping them to rest on your stomach when you realize it’s just quinn. the look on his face, however, does nothing to calm your racing heart.

“thought i told you specifically not to touch yourself,” he grits out, clenching his jaw so tightly he could barely speak.

you still, having been so ready and needy you completely forgot about the rule. sitting there, bare pussy exposed to the chill of the room, was torturous in the best way. you could feel yourself drip onto the freshly made bed, so the initial contact was simply the swipe of a finger to try and prevent any further mess. but the warm contrast of your finger on the cold slick of your cunt felt too good, spurring you to give your clit just a brief touch. just enough to hold you over.

before you knew it, you heard the thud of quinn’s bag and clearing of his throat, not even remembering how you ended up knuckle deep in your own core.

“i-i’m so sorry. it’s just, it was cold, and i was so wet, so i tried to clean myself up a bit, but my finger was so warm, and then i thought just one touch wouldn’t hurt,” you ramble out one long run-on sentence trying to plead your case.

“oh, i see” he starts walking towards you, quickly stripping himself of his t-shirt. “you were so ready for me, that you couldn’t wait on me, is that it?”

your face heats, realizing how pathetic it all is, really.

“well, when you put it like that…” you can’t even make eye contact with him, looking down at his hands instead.

quinn starts to untie the string on his sweatpants, letting them drop and walking right out of them as he comes to a stop at the end of the large bed.

“yeah…that’s what i thought,” he smacks his teeth at you in disapproval, shaking his head back and forth.

you take in the sight of him before you. toned body, pale skin, and my god, the hair. you’ve always been one to love body hair on a man, but seeing his large, exposed thighs, and the perfect dusting of the thick, dark hairs all over them, has your hand itching to find its way back between your slick folds.

he starts to palm himself over his boxers, earning a whimper from you in return. the noise piques his interest, eyebrow raising as he looks down at you.

“oh…you want this?” he reaches down to free his thick cock, sighing at the relief of the cloth restriction.

you don’t know if you should respond or not, scared of the consequences either way. you decide on an eager nod, mouth nearly watering at the sight.

“yeah, figured you did. always so needy, so ready to be whatever i need you be,” he says dismissively. “and lucky for you, i need this tonight, too. or i’d make you sit here and watch me stroke myself until i couldn’t take anymore, spewing everything i have all over you and this bed before making you go to sleep needy and unsatisfied. your punishment for touching yourself before i could get here.”

he must be able to see the panic in your eyes at the possibility, knowing he’s upset but surely he’s not that upset with you.

“but,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pink tip, “i think what i have planned is punishment enough. plus, i need you tonight, my sweet girl. need you to be my vice, my cure for all these…feelings i have pent up.”

you feel the physical jolt your core does, causing your body to flinch.

quinn discards his underwear entirely, placing one knee on the plush bed to start making his way to your body. you’re still sprawled out, skin buzzing at the thought of his touching yours.

once he’s hovering above you on all fours, he brings his head down to place a feather light kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, you chase him, pouting at the barely there contact.

“nope. only kiss you’ll get tonight, i’m afraid,” he sits up on his knees, in-between your open legs.

you whine out, always loving the hot, open-mouth kisses you two share while he’s inside of you.

“ehh, no more whining, either. should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules,” he scolds you, bringing his hands down to move your legs up, bending both of your knees so your feet rest flat on the bed.

once your knees are bent, he takes your hands that were resting on your stomach and splay them out on their respective sides.

“now, since you didn’t do like i asked you to so nicely, even though i’m so, so mad tonight, no touching me,” he looks down into your eyes as he says it, making sure you understand his rules.

“so, no kissing, no touching, no whining? what, i’m basically your sex doll tonight?” you sass him, rolling your eyes.

now, you expected a reaction out of him. it was your intent, actually. you expected a small smack to the leg, or a wagging finger with a stern look.

what you didn’t expect was to feel his hand come up and grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together so hard you’re forced to bite them just to allow any sort of give from the pressure.

he jerks your face to look at him, bringing his own so close you can feel his hot, angry breath on your face.

“that’s exactly right. you’re my doll tonight. mine to use as i see fit. however i want. you know why?” he pauses, heaving breaths in and out as he waits, as if you’d actually be able to answer him. “because i’m mad. i’m mad that the stupid kings thought they could beat up on my team tonight and get away with it. i’m mad that brock was taken out during the first period because of a purposeful hit. i’m mad, because the one thing i asked you to do, you couldn’t fucking do it.”

he’s seething at this point, an animalistic kind of anger radiating through his body.

your heart races in both fear and excitement. you hardly ever get to see this side of quinn, and you don’t know exactly what all was said or done on that ice tonight, but you’re sure you’re going to be able to feel the effects of it all for the next few days to come.

he releases your cheeks roughly, standing tall on his knees.

“since you claim you were so wet earlier you just couldn’t resist starting without me, too drunk on your own fingers to know what you were doing, you shouldn’t need any help then, should you?” he asks, reaching down to feel the arousal pooling in your exposed heat.

you want to whine. you want to whine and protest and complain, but before you can even think about breaking another rule of his, your breath is knocked from your lungs.

without any warning whatsoever, quinn slams into you completely, leaving no inch of your canal untouched. on instinct, you start to reach your arms up to grasp onto him, needing to ground yourself to him.

“i wouldn’t, if i was you,” he growls out, pulling out completely before slamming into you again, gripping one of your hips for stability.

dropping them back down to the mattress, you grasp the sheets so tightly you worry you’ll rip them.

your body jolts with each slam of his rigid cock into your hole, completely removing himself each time before snapping his hips so forcefully you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“god, have no clue how fucking angry i’ve been tonight”, he huffs out, not faltering his pace. “all night, watched those smug goons think they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted. then the refs wouldn’t even let me return the favor when given the chance. it’s bullshit,” he spits with a particularly harsh thrust.

you’re trying your best to lay there, unmoving, occupying your hands with the soft cotton underneath you. a choked sob of pleasure makes its way out when he hits a spot so deep inside of you, you had no clue it existed until this moment.

“but knew i was gonna get to come home to you,” he continues, distracted momentarily by the bounce of your tits with each thrust. “my sweet, sweet girl who always listens to what i say. who’s always so ready to do what i need her to do for me.”

he reaches up to pinch one of your hard nipples. you flinch, but remember to keep your hands down.

“and imagine my surprise, when i walk in the door to see you already making yourself feel good after i told you to wait on me,” he switches his hand to your other nipple, show it some attention. “made me so fucking angry all over again. was so prepared to come in and take care of you, low and slow all night. a treat for you and for me. but you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

at this point, even if you wanted to speak you couldn’t. you’re quite literally being fucked dumb right now. the effort of keeping your body still isn’t even a challenge anymore, limbs so heavy with pleasure you’re basically his to manipulate and use as he wishes.

you don’t even feel your orgasm approaching. one second you’re listening to his frustrations, the next you’re half deaf and seeing stars.

quinn stutters only slightly, abandoning his touch on your tits to move his hand to your throbbing clit.

“god, this was so fucking easy. this turn you on? me mad at you, not letting you do what you want, just like i didn’t get to do what i wanted?” he talks you through your bliss, watching your body shake and shiver while he continues his deep thrusts.

his fast circles on your clit don’t ease up, even after you’ve come down from your high. you try to wiggle your body away, your sensitivity making you squirm.

quinn’s grip on your hip tightens, halting your movement.

“don’t fucking move,” growls at you, basking at how easy it is for him to glide in and out of you, his dick covered in your release. “you’re gonna give me another one, i don’t care how sensitive you are. know you can do it. my own little slut.”

the name surprises you, quinn never really has been one for using stuff like that in the bedroom. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cause the feelings of another release to start swirling again, though.

his resolve starts to deteriorate, but he’s determined to milk one more from you before he enjoys his own release.

“c’mon. it’s the least you can do f��me, really,” he grunts, somehow rubbing even faster circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. “after no one at the game would let me retaliate, and after i had to sit in the fucking box for two minutes for just returning a little bit of what they dished out all night, giving me all you’ve got isn’t a lot to ask, is it?”

you try to shake your head, but the increased pace of his forceful thrusts causes your head to bob all over the place.

he can feel your walls starting to flutter again already, knowing it won’t take much to send you over the edge.

keeping his hand in between your legs, applying both pressure and friction to your clit now, he bends his body over to attach his mouth to your tit, showing the the area attention once again. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub.

the feeling alone is delectable, causing you to writhe in pleasure. but the second you feel his teeth encase the delicate bud, biting down, you explode yet again.

you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. you cry out, so loud and so pornographic quinn worries someone will complain, but loving every second of the sound.

you’re convulsing underneath him, tears leaking from your closed eyes at the intensity of the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

“fuck, that’s it. swear your pussy’s trying to trap me in there, doesn’t want me to leave,” quinn groans, feeling like his dick is literally being suctioned into your body.

after a few more sloppy thrusts, his balls tighten and he coats your walls with his release. he moans out, mixing with your perfect whimpers and whines as the shocks of his own orgasm cause you to twitch.

after he’s sure your body has sucked him dry, quinn pulls out of you, pushing your knees down so he can roll over to the side of you, throwing his own tired body in the mattress.

you both lay beside one another, panting and letting your bodies catch back up to you. he reaches over to grab your hand, every ounce of anger having left his body through his orgasm.

he’s back to being his usual, soft self, as he rolls over to place a kiss to your temple.

you’ve come to a little bit, turning your head to look over at his smiling face.

“maybe…maybe i should start a pact with these teams you play each week to make you mad and rile you up during games more often,” you softly speak, voice slightly hoarse from your orgasmic screaming. “if this is what i get in return, think it’d be worth the price,” you smirk at quinn.

he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face, finally placing a real kiss to your lips.

when he pulls back you open your eyes to admire him, but are met with a serious, stern expression.

“don’t push it.”

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

Text

your duke

words: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of having children, duke!rafe, 1800S au, royalty au, probably a lot of incorrect era things but idk! bear with me yall, maid!reader, implication of noncon but it is not actually described, r*pe aftermath, poisioning/murder, assassination plot, kinda angsty but happy ending, slowburn ish? i fell in love the way you fell asleep, slowly and then all at once

you are humming to yourself as you wipe down the surfaces off the room, collecting the nonexistent dust on your rag before turning your attention towards the bath, filling it with hot water, anticipating the dukes return.

you move onto the bed next, filled with extravagant silks and embroidered blankets. you make it perfectly, erasing any evidence that it was slept in only for the duke to create a mess when he comes back to his chambers.

you know you should feel lucky, getting to work in the palace with one of the kings closest friend and advisor, but it's tedious maid work, barely worth the couple gold coins you get at the end of every day.

you don't realize that the duke has entered until the door slams shut behind him, making you jump up, eyes wide as you turn and give him a quick bow, keeping your head down.

“good evening, duke cameron.”

“evening.” he addresses you back after a moment, allowing you to rise. you have to hold in a gasp, you always forget how beautiful the duke is.

“i filled the bath for you, sir.” you gesture your arm towards the bathroom. “i will take your garments for cleaning once you ready.”

“thank you, y/n.” the duke says, making your eyebrows rise. you have only been working for a couple weeks, and only recently got reassigned to the dukes room. you introduced yourself only once, and certainly expected him to instantly forget your name.

you watch as he goes behind the thick curtain into the bath, entering only when you hear him sink into the warm water with a satisfied groan.

you keep your eyes on the floor as you step around the corner just long enough to grab the clothing off the floor before fleeing with a bow to clean them.

you head to the lower levels of the palace, smiling at the other help that you see as you head towards the laundry room, quickly cleaning his clothes before hanging them on a line meant specifically for the duke.

“on your way back up to duke camerons?” the voice makes your back snap straight, turning to look at mrs. peregrine, her name living up to her hawkish features, a stern old woman but one to be admired for running the entirety of the background of the palace, coordinating maids and assistants, even running the kitchen with an iron fist.

“yes ma’am.” you nod.

“the king has requested that he receives a personal assistant.” she says, looking you up and down with a disapproving look in her brown eyes, so dark they almost appear black.

you wait patiently before she sighs. “my goodness girl, im offering you a promotion.”

“oh!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting to move through the ranks so quickly. “yes, ma’am… what does being a personal assistant include?”

“you will bring up his meals, take requests and fill whatever he needs and… keep him satisfied.” you immediately understand the implication there, letting out a quick nod. she almost looks sad for a brief second before her features harden again. “get his dinner tray from the kitchen and bring it up immediately.”

you rush to the kitchen, grabbing the tray indicated for the duke. you hurry up the stairs, but are careful not to spill the plates loaded on the silver platter.

“dinner, sir.” you call with a knock, glad when instead of telling you to come inside that duke cameron opens the door for you. you set the tray down at his dining table. you wonder what the palace chambers of the king are like when a dukes looks like this.

“are you my assistant then y/n?” rafe asks, sitting down as you stand at the other side of the table, hands clasped together, waiting, but you're not sure what.

“yes sir.” you nod quickly. “anything you wish i am… here to serve.”

“are you hungry?” he asks, making you scrunch your brows together.

“what?” you know you shouldn't question what the duke says, but you surely must have heard him wrong.

“are you hungry? the kitchen always gives me more than i could ever eat.”

“oh- i- i am fine, sir. thank you.” you say, but your traitorous eyes betray you as you look at the food, bread smothered with butter, steak dripping with juice.

“no more with the sir, please.” he waves his hand. “makes me feel like my father. just call me rafe.”

you let a light laugh slip. duke cameron-rafe is remarkably young to have risen to the ranks so quickly. some even believe he is who the king will appoint if he doesn't produce an heir.

“and come sit down.” rafe kicks out the chair next to you. you step closer, easing yourself down into the wooden chair.

rafe takes one of the plates and loads a few things on it before setting it in front of you with one simple word. “eat.”

you're not going to argue with duke, and the meal is no doubt the most extravagant that you're ever going to get to taste, so you begin to eat, eyes widening when you taste the warm bread, so unlike the old stale loaf you get for cheap from the market.

rafe looks satisfied when your finished, pushing his cup of wine towards you to finish off.

“thank you, s-rafe.” you both smile.

“it's my pleasure.” rafe says, standing up and moving to flop down on his bed, placing his hand on his stomach. “so much good food.”

you bite your tongue, resisting the urge to say that there are people right outside the palace walls starving.

you quickly collect all of the silverware before placing the serving tray outside of the door to take back down to the kitchen later. maybe you'd even be able to sneak some more food now that you have access.

“what else can i do for you, sir?” you ask, looking out the window as the sky darkens. you wonder when you'll be dismissed now that you're an assistant to a duke, not just a lowly maid.

“come here.” he calls, eyes now closed as he lays on the bed.

you move quickly, putting your shame to the side. you know what is being requested of you now as you step to the edge of the bed, looking down rafes body until you are staring at his crotch. your hands reach cautiously until you cant wait any longer, grabbing the hem of his pants.

the dukes eyes pop open, pushing your fingers away. “what are you doing?”

“i-i am so sorry, sir!” you take a step back before sinking to your knees, bending your head down. “i thought you wanted to receive your… your nightly pleasures.”

you keep your eyes trained on the plush rug, but you can hear that rafe has moved to stand directly in front of you.

“you are not a whore.” his words are harsh for a moment, but then he kneels down next to you, his fingers touching under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “i do not expect you to do anything for me that you do not want to.”

“sir, it's included in being your assistant.” you explain.

“i will not ask you to do anything lewd, understood?” he asks, holding your eye until you nod.

“you… you are a good man.” you say, letting him take your hand to help you stand, your dress falling back around your ankles.

“if only.” he looks into the distance for a moment before shaking his head. “you're dismissed.”

“yes sir.” you lower your head, rushing out of the room.

-- two weeks later --

“would you ask the kitchen for chicken today?” the duke asks as you adjust his outfit, quickly learning his tastes as you fold his collar down.

“roasted?” you question, smiling when rafe shakes his head.

“and make sure you tell them i want lunch too.” you know exactly what the duke means. he will no doubt be eating with the king, but he wants you to get food from the kitchen for yourself. you would refuse, but it gives you something to do as you wait around in his chambers, waiting to be called on.

“yes, sir.” you nod before leading him to the door, opening up the door with a bow as he goes to yet another meeting. he seems to always be involved. you don't know his personal politics, but from the way he treats you, you're sure he must be a good man.

you spend some time cleaning as you wait for rafe to return, as well as getting lunch and wandering the hallways, seeing how far you can go without seeing anyone.

you are relieved when time rolls around for you to draw a bath for the duke, excited to see him.

the door opens as you turn with a smile. “good evening, rafe. how was your day?”

“busy.” he admits with a sigh. you can tell he looks tired. “is the bath ready?”

“yes, sir.” you say, not able to always resist the formalities.

rafe nods, walking past you but not before laying a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as a thank you, like he is too tired to even say the words.

you wait to hear the water before stepping in to get his clothes.

“y/n.” rafe says.

“yes sir?” you ask, keeping your eyes cast downward.

“would you… would you massage my shoulders and head? please.”

“of course.” you drag a stool towards the edge of the bath, glad to see the water is still steaming, no doubt relaxing rafe. you keep your eyes firmly away from lower down his body as you rub over his scalp and shoulders, working out the kinks in his neck.

you're almost sure that rafe has fallen asleep as you continue to massage, unable to resist as you lean in and take a small inhale, smelling his unique scent that is near intoxicating. you wish his room smelled more of him and less like you, it seems like he never gets to relax unless it's to sleep.

“why are you always so busy, sir?” you ask seriously. “the other dukes spend half the nights on the town and the other half at their summer houses. you work yourself to death.”

“for good reason.” he simply says. you sigh, you're not going to get anymore than that.

-- three months later --

“would you go to albion with me?” the duke asks, your eyes widening as you almost choke on the perfectly buttered biscuit you have in your mouth.

“of course!” you nod. “ive never left the city before.” you long to see the countryside, and even if you are going as an assistant, you would never turn down the opportunity.

“never?” he raises an eyebrow. “not even as a child?”

“no.” you shake your head. “i had to work ever since i was a young girl.”

“it's a shame.” the duke says. “you aren't like the others…”

“what do you mean?” you question, taking a timid bite of the roast chicken.

“like the people i see sleeping on the streets. you have manners, you work hard… you're beautiful.”

you can feel your cheeks blush bright red. “why thank you.”

“this is when you pay me a compliment back.” he smirks, using the charm he is so well known for.

“you are… very handsome.” you say before taking a quick sip of wine.

“come on, anything specific?”

you know exactly what you are going to say. “your eyes.” you quickly attest. “they're… they're enchanting. i imagine they are what the sea looks like.”

the duke smiles, blue eyes sparkling like the sun reflecting off the waves, and you swear you could melt right there in your seat.

-- one week later --

“is this your first time in a carriage?” the duke asks as the coachman reaches his hand out to help you into the small enclosed area.

“yes.” you nod, taking in the plush seats before sitting down, rafe sitting across from you.

“im glad i get to show you this then.” rafe says with a light smile, opening up the windows to allow you to look out as the horse begins to clop through the city streets.

you watch with excitement as the cobblestone roads turn to dirt and stone paths, brick buildings being replaced by rolling hills, crops, and distant farmhouses.

you chat with the duke throughout your travels, his smile growing whenever you point out something out of the window, loving your excitement when you come across a heard of cows, or cross over a wooden bridge.

“i want to show you everything.” rafe mumbles unders his breath, realizing in that moment how deep he is in.

its only a few more hours before you arrive at albion. your duties are much the same when at the kings palace, retreating quickly to make the dukes room just as he pleases, even adjusting the pillows to how you always find them in the morning.

you explore the help areas of the albion manor, glancing into the various rooms as you learn the layout, since the duke does intend to stay for two nights.

“exploring, are we?” rafes voice makes you jump as you turn suddenly.

“please excuse me.” you bow down when you realize duke cameron is with the duke of albion.

“is this your wife, duke cameron?” he asks, looking over you and your curtsey.

“why, no.” you can tell from rafes voice that he is delighted by the question. “though you would never guess it, she is my maid.”

“such a gorgeous maid.” you can hear them step closer, but you keep your head turned down until the duke of albion clears his throat and you stand.

you can see that rafes face has changed from a smile to cautious displeasure as the duke looks you up and down, a jeer taking over his face.

“she is a wonderful maid. a great conversationalist, too. she rode the entire way in my carriage and i was not once bored.”

“can she dance?” the duke of albion asks.

“ask the lady yourself.” rafe turns to look at you, nodding encouragingly.

“i have not danced since i was a child.” you say, keeping your voice quiet and soft. you know that there are dukes out there sick on power, and you're not sure the duke of albion is one of the good ones like your duke cameron.

“well, we must change that, shouldn't we duke cameron?” he turns to look at rafe, who nods. “invite her to the ball tomorrow night.” it's all he has to say before walking away. you let out a breath of relief once he turns down a hallway.

“you don't have to go to the ball if you don't want to.” rafe says as you begin to walk towards his room. you stay a step behind him like a proper maid. “i will make up an excuse for you if you wish, but…” rafe pushes the door open, allowing you to enter the chambers first. “if you want to don a pretty dress and arrive on my arm, i will not deny you the chance.”

“i would love to. as long as i only have to dance with you.” you can't imagine being passed off to random men.

your duke smiles at you before nodding, setting down at the dining table, where food must have been recently delivered as he portions some out for you.

“where are you to sleep?” he asks as you begin to eat.

“i visited the helps chambers already, i will sleep in a cot there.”

rafe frowns. “a cot? that is unacceptable.”

“it's just as nice as the one i have at home.” you admit with a casual shrug.

“you do not own a bed in your house?” rafe questions. he's never thought too much about your living situation before.

“i rent a room.” you say simply. “i don't even have a house or a whole apartment to myself.”

rafe is quiet until you're both done eating, seemingly deep in thought.

“you are sleeping in the bed tonight and i shall sleep on the settee. and we shall find new living arrangements for you when we return to the palace.”

“sir-”

“there will be no arguments.” he says, with a tone of authority you've never heard before. your mouth zips shut.

“im afraid im going to be sick.” you press your hand to the front of your dress, a soft pink fabric that must be more than your entire yearly salary for just have the material of the gown.

the duke of albion sent a few different options. they're clearly old dresses from maybe his wife or other manor women. you even made an attempt to do your hair rather than just pull it back into a bun or braid like you often do.

“you look beautiful.” rafe squeezes your hand. “and you have nothing to be nervous about. i will not leave your side.”

rafe waits for you to nod before stepping through the doors. he would turn back and take you back to his chambers if you were truly too nervous, social consequences be damned. rafe couldn't care less about his place in society, not when he knows he's been written into the kings will to take over the crown if he doesn't produce an heir with his wife before his death.

you're glad people are paying more attention to rafe than the women on his arm as he leads you around the room, greeting people and introducing you simply as lady y/n, not mentioning that you are his maid and assistant.

you watch a few dances with fascination, the twirling skirts of the women far more appealing then the men.

“want to try the dance floor?” he asks, squeezing your hand gently.

“yes.” you say honestly. you weren't sure, but to look into rafes eyes while the band plays is too tempting.

rafe leads you towards the center of the room, thankful the dance has already been done once, as you mostly remember the moves as he leads you through it, a wide smile on your face.

-- one week later --

“is everything moved?” rafe asks as he enters the room, eyes widening when he realizes it's been completely stripped, even the curtain separating the living area and bathroom has been taken down.

“yes.” you nod. “mrs. peregrine said there is no one else moving into this room, so.” you shrug. you feel a little sad about leaving the chambers that you've grown so close to rafe in, but he himself requested a bigger chamber. he must not ask for much, because the king quickly accepted his request.

two beds. you walk up one more flight of stairs to the newer bedrooms, family chambers for those who live inside the palace with their children, or for those who will have their maid live with them like rafe.

“no more cots for you.” rafe says as you enter the room. you can't help yourself, tearing up when you see your bed. yours.

“good tears?” rafe confirms before pulling you in for a hug. the touching may be frowned on by society, but you find comfort and familiarity in his hold, having grown so close over the past months.

you are humming softly with a smile on your face as you bring down rafes laundry, the last task for the night before also retreating to your bedroom.

“y/n.” mrs peregrine says, her hawk eyes landing on you and the bundle of clothing in your arms.

“yes ma’am?”

“the king has requested a new maid for the night. he wants someone young. go.”

it takes a second for her words to process before you realize what she's asking for.

“i-”

“you can go back to duke cameron in the morning, he wants someone new for the night. go. now.”

you drop the laundry, considering running. either out of the palace or back to rafe, but mrs. peregrine follows behind you like she can read your thoughts until you're standing in front of the door to the kings chambers. you can hear lewd noises from behind the carved wood, the golden handle gleaming.

mrs. peregrine grabs and turns it before pushing you in.

“ah, a new one!” the king grunts, a mess of bare skin taking up the massive bed. “get over here!”

“where were you?” rafe asks, grasping your shoulders the second you enter the chambers, the morning sun not even rising yet, having fled the second the kings head hit the pillow.

you open your mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a loud sob as you lean forward, burying your face into his chest.

“shh, shh.” rafe wraps his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest as his hand strokes gently up and down your back. “i got you. you're okay.”

he leads you over towards the beds, bypassing your own and taking you to sit on his, arms still holding you comfortingly.

“i-i had to go to the kings chambers.” you swallow thickly, glad you don't have to explain any more as rafes face turns to one of anger.

“the king disrespected you. he disrespected me. and he disrespected his wife. something will be done about it.”

you're not sure what your duke has planned, but you trust him.

rafe watches with anticipation. he planned to wait another couple months, to build up the tolerance of the kings food taster to the poison he's been slipping in, but after what you were subjected to, he will wait no longer.

every meal the taster ate outside of testing the kings food has had slowly increasing amounts of poison in it. he hadn't quite reached lethal yet, but rafe hopes he will at least last long enough for the king to eat before showing any signs of sickness.

rafe watches with anticipation, barely touching his own food as the taster tries everything. a bite of mashed potatoes, of chicken, and so on before nodding and passing the plate to the king.

he's too cocky for his own good, not even waiting for a minute to see if the taster has a bad reaction before eating, sure that he was too untouchable.

rafe hides his smile when the kings face turns pale, sputtering before falling face forward into the mashed potatoes, knocked out dead.

the palace is in an uproar. you were waiting for rafe to return to the chambers from his dinner with the king and other dukes when someone bursts in.

“the king is dead. duke cameron is now the king. come now.”

you hesitate before they rush out of the room. your feet move before your mind does, rushing after what you must assume is an advisor.

you hear loud crying, desperately sad, heartbreaking screams as you're lead to the kings chambers. your eyes widen when you see the former queen being dragged out, mourning with loud sobs the loss of her husband and title.

“king cameron is waiting for you inside.”

you walk in, surprised when the door swing shuts behind you. you look around the grand space, not having truly taken it in the time the king had you brought in.

“rafe-” you run to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he's stood near where the bed used to be. it must have been his first order, to have the very bed you were disrespected in taken out of the chambers. you hope it gets burned.

“i did it for you. for us.” rafe holds you close as it sinks in. rafe killed the king.

“i want you to be my queen.” rafe pulls away to look you in the eye. “i want you to be my wife.”

“i-”

“the former queen is pregnant. hopefully with a boy. we will rule until he is 13 then vacate the throne. we can go to the countryside, i can give you the life you deserve-”

you cut rafe off by pressing your lips against his. he hesitates for a split second before kissing back, holding you even tighter to him.

“id be honored to be your wife.” you whisper against his lips. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.” rafes tongue slips into your mouth, distracting you from thinking too hard as he kisses you, your bodies turning warm as he leads you towards the couch, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you, not allowing your lips to seperate.

“we will…” rafe gasps out, pausing his words to kiss you again. “we will rule. we will amass wealth. we will retire with our money to the countryside.” rafe squeezes your waist. “we will have as many children as you want. none, if you want. anything for you, my soon to be queen.”

“i never thought id be able to have kids.” you sniffle. “you've given me so much.”

you reach up to take rafes face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks before pulling him down for a kiss.

“i love you.” you kiss him over and over. “i want you.”

“now?” rafe looks down at you. “are you sure?”

“yes, please.” you kiss him again. “replace my bad memories with a good one.”

rafe moves slowly, carefully undoing your dress until you're in just your underclothes. he continues to kiss you before turning the attention to himself, taking off his layers until he's in just underpants.

you run your hands up and down over his chest, lifting your hips as he tugs your final layer off.

rafe pulls away from the kiss to look down at your body. a smile spreads over his face before slinking down the couch he grasps your chest in his hands, cupping your breasts.

“i should have had them bring in a new bed first.” he chuckles, pressing his hips down into your thigh, allowing you to feel his length through his underpants.

“i need you now. please.” you whimper out. rafe smiles, unable to keep the grin off his face since his plan succeeded and he finally admitted his feelings to you.

“you never have to beg me for anything, my queen.” rafe says, pulling his final layer off. “you're never going to go without ever again.”

you feel tears well in your eyes as rafe lines himself up with your entrance, sinking deep into you as you both moan out.

“i love you.” you whisper again, needing to tell him as many times as you possibly can.

rafe presses his lips over each over your eyelids, kissing away your tears.

-- 14 years later --

“it's everything i imagined and more.” you smile to your husband, having just returned from the tour of the vast gardens.

“nothing but the best for you, my love.” rafe spent years looking for the perfect retirement property as the new king grew up until he was of age to take over the title.

you push the hair back out of rafes face, admiring his features. there's a few increased lines on his face from the age and the stress of the crown, but the twinkle in his eye is all the same.

“i was thinking once we settle down here i will take you on a vacation to see the ocean. then we can get started on making those babies i promised you.”

“why not start now?” you smile, turning towards your bedroom as rafe quickly follows behind, the halls filling with warm laughter, much to the staffs relief, glad to have a happy couple as the new duke and duchess.

rafe closes and locks the bedroom door behind you, the curtains and windows open, letting in the clean country air, so different from the city that you've finally escaped.

“how many babies do you want?” rafe asks, pushing up the bottom of your linen dress up to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath, much to rafes appreciation.

“hmm.” you hum out as rafe tugs his pants down. “two boys, two girls?”

“i like the way you think.” rafe smiles, pressing a kiss your lips. “my queen. you'll always-” another kiss. “be my queen.”

taglist (please let me know if it doesnt work idk why people arent being notified): @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

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mandalhoerian · 15 days ago

Note

Xavier seems like the type of guy who doesn't like his person using toys or vibes because they're not *him*

Gets pouty and jealous if they're even mentioned.

continuation of this ask

You are so big brain, anon. It's so in character of him 😭🙏 is it healthy? no. his partner is allowed private time on their own, they don't owe him their pleasure.

But for the sake of fanfiction, picture this:

You mention, offhandedly, that you bought a toy. Just a passing remark, not even thinking about it. Maybe you were joking. Maybe you wanted to tease him. But Xavier, sitting across from you, rapid-blinks like he always does when you catch him off-guard before his face turns blank. Not cold, not angry. Just… blank.

Then he hums, a little soft sound in the back of his throat, like he's contemplating something so profound it has to be philosophical, or science-related.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you need that when you have me?"

No change in tone, no outward display of irritation — just that completely neutral, sky-blue stare and a perfectly level, soft voice that somehow makes it worse. Like he's genuinely baffled by the concept of you needing anything else. You're utterly unprepared for this talk and don't even think about having it in the first place, so your go-to response is laughing. And when you do, he doesn't let it go. Oh no, Xavier is the king of petty jealousy masked as cold indifference.

The toy starts to go missing.

At first, you think it's a coincidence. A case of forgetfulness. You’re sure you left it in the drawer, right where it always is (since Xavier feels a disturbance in the Force whenever you so much as breathe in its direction and things escalate each time), but when you reach for it — gone.

You tear through your bedside table, lifting books, checking between the sheets, even peeking under the bed, but there’s nothing. Maybe you misplaced it and don't even remember? It was collecting dust, after all. Maybe it fell behind something? But a full sweep of the room turns up nothing, and you’re left standing there, confused, mildly annoyed, and a little suspicious.

It happens again. And again.

Every time you try to find it, it's missing. And yet, mysteriously, whenever you’ve resigned yourself to its absence, it reappears — tucked into your pillowcase, resting perfectly in the middle of the bed as if placed there on purpose, or sitting in the drawer exactly where you swore you had checked before.

It’s eerie. Almost calculated.

And then, one evening, you try again to confirm. You check the drawer. Empty. You inhale sharply, patience hanging by a thread.

“Xavier.”

Silence. But you know he’s home.

You walk into the living room, arms crossed, and there he is, lounging against the couch, book in hand, looking up at you with that barely-there expression of vague curiosity. A little too casual. A little too composed.

You narrow your eyes. “Where is it?”

He blinks once, slow. “Where is what?”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch.

“You know what.” You plant a hand on your hip, glaring. “My toy keeps going missing.”

Xavier hums, like he's actually thinking about it. “That does sound inconvenient.”

The audacity.

You march over, leaning down to snatch the book from his hands, but before you can, he moves — fast —catching your wrist and pulling you down until you’re practically in his lap, his other hand resting warm and steady against your thigh.

“I suppose,” he muses, tilting his head, voice as light as ever, “you should take better care of your things.”

Your eyes flick fast between his, and you recognize that look. That feather-light amusement. That quiet, infuriating smugness.

“You took it,” you accuse.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He’s still holding you, fingers tracing absentminded circles against your wrist. “But if you’re missing something… maybe I can offer a replacement.”

His grip tightens deliberately. Just enough to make his point. Just enough to tell you that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And that he isn’t giving it back.

You glare at him, lips parted in an incredulous little gasp. “You—”

But he’s already tilting his head, studying you like you’re some puzzle he’s been waiting to take apart, layers peeling away with each breath. His fingers trace absent patterns along your thigh, as if he’s just idly thinking, and not actively playing with you instead of talking to you about it.

“You seem upset,” he comments, though it lacks any genuine concern. It’s all amusement, low and smooth.

“I am upset,” you shoot back, shifting in his hold, but he doesn’t let go, and worse — his grip tightens. Just enough to remind you that he’s stronger and is keeping you there for a reason. Does he want to have a conversation or else? Probably the latter. Even when he moves slow, there’s no escaping him. “Give it back, Xavier.”

He hums, running a thumb over the inside of your wrist. “What if I don’t?”

You inhale sharply, frustration bubbling over. “Then I’ll buy another one.”

His grip falters.

It’s subtle, but you feel it. A minute shift, his fingers pressing just a little tighter before his whole demeanor changes. You can see the realization flicker like a lightbulb.

He leans in — close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.

“That,” he whisper-says, reverent, “would be a waste.”

Your stomach does something weird at the way he says it. Low, almost contemplative, like he’s already made a decision and you’re just catching up.

You blink. “A waste?”

Xavier tilts his head, and then — finally — gives the tiniest of innocent grins. It’s the first real expression he’s given you since this whole thing started, slow and sharp-edged, something just a little too pleased with itself.

“Show me.”

You can visualize the silence that follows being captured by an imaginary camera from multiple angles for comedic effect.

For a moment, you’re convinced you’ve misheard him. But no, he’s watching you, waiting, eyes gleaming with something new. Something curious. The amusement is still there, but now it’s layered with something deeper. A slow-building, simmering interest.

“What?” you breathe, blinking up at him.

“Show me,” he repeats, completely unaffected. Ears beginning to gather color. “Let me use it.”

A rush of heat floods through you so fast it nearly knocks you off balance. This is new territory.

Your lips part, and you stammer, “Excuse me?”

Xavier doesn’t blink. Doesn’t budge. Just watches you with that perfectly unreadable expression that only makes things worse.

"You seemed very invested in this thing," he says, brushing his knuckles up your arm like he’s still thinking it over. "So I want to know what makes it so special." A pause. Then, a tilt of his head. "What makes it better than me?"

There it is.

Your heart stutters, and for a long moment, you just stare at him, caught between mortification and something dangerously close to intrigue.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, trying to pull away, but his grip does not let up.

“And you’re stalling,” he counters easily. “Which tells me that you do want to.”

You make a noise — something in the back of your throat that isn’t quite a protest but isn’t quite acceptance either.

Xavier just waits.

And waits.

Until finally, with your face burning, you mutter, “Fine.”

His fingers flex around your wrist, and then, so very airily, he sighs,

“Good girl.”

And just like that — your toy is no longer missing. But now? It’s in his hands. And that might just be worse.

#an ask for shai #love and deepspace #xavier x reader #love and deepspace xavier #lads xavier #xavier lads #divider by cafekitsune

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oddinary4bts · 10 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the power outage is still power outing, curses, Jungkook being Jungkook, mentions of being really drunk and throwing up, explicit content: they talk about what happened in ch 3, teasing, some Mario Kart (yes, it has to be in the explicit content section lmao), hickeys, brat!reader, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, degradation (he calls her a slut/pretty little slut), consent king Jeon Jungkook, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, talks about having raw sex, protected sex, praise

☆word count: 9.5k

☆a/n: new chapterrrrrrr! Enjoy reading everyone <3 there's a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes really hard, but the real angst will hit much later on. Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, February 15th

You wake up slowly, with the rising sun. Your room is dark, cold, yet you’re snuggled close to Jungkook, whose body heat has been keeping you warm all night. He’s still asleep, mouth slightly parted, and you watch him for a few seconds before the events of last night come back to your mind, and you have to shut your eyes to try to forget.

It’s hard. His arm is still draped over you, and it twitches in his sleep. You try to push him away, but he wraps his arm around you tighter, nuzzling his face in your neck. It does something to you that you entirely can’t deal with, and you shut your eyes even harder, trying to ignore the way your heart is acting up in your chest.

You breathe in, the cold air taming the burning inside of you. You exhale slowly, and to your surprise, your heart finally decides to start calming down. You keep breathing deeply for a while, and you reckon it might have worked better than you expected because, next thing you know, you wake up with a start.

Jungkook is sitting next to you, and he offers you a lopsided grin as you meet his gaze, heart once again beating wildly.

“Morning, peach,” he greets you, voice gravelly with sleep.

You force yourself to sit up, and you stretch a yawn away. “Morning.”

“Slept well?”

There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, mischief laced with his words. You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Know Jungkook is probably going to turn you into a blushing mess even more now. Especially as he smirks, head cocking to the side while he awaits your answer.

“Yeah,” you answer, and you look towards the window as his eyes bore into your profile. You take a deep breath, another yawn moving through you before you’re able to look at him again. “Did you?”

“Better than I thought I would,” he admits, and he stretches before lying back down, pulling the covers to his face. It’s adorable, in a way Jeon Jungkook should never be, and you force yourself to not let it get to your mind as he continues, “I usually sleep like shit when I sleep with someone.”

You purse your lips, refusing to give meaning to his words as you say, “Maybe last night helped.”

The lopsided smile is back, and he nods once, sighing in content. “We should lose power more often.”

In the hopes that power would come back during the night, you plugged in your phone before going to sleep. You reach for it on the night table, and even though your room is still freezing, you’re still taken aback that the power is still out.

“Well, we still don’t have any,” you inform him.

He glances at you. “Then we should go back to sleep.”

At that, you snort, shaking your head. Even though your battery is low, you still go to your emails, trying to see if you received anything from your professor.

What you find is a college-wide email informing the students that all college activities are cancelled today and through the weekend, to start again on Monday. Your gaze widens before you glance at Jungkook.

“Power is still out in college, too,” you tell him. “So, no class.”

Jungkook’s smile only grows wider, and he opens his arms for you to come cuddle again. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Your heart is warm. A hearth, in which a small fire has started to burn. It’s soft, cozy, and you worry at your bottom lip as you survey Jungkook. As you try to figure out when you crossed the line, and if it’s too late to pull back.

You figure you can decide later when the power is back on and this bubble outside of time will have burst, and you lie back next to him. His arms, still wide open, look far too inviting, and it takes you about five seconds before you’re scooching into his embrace.

He sighs in content. “You know,” he lets out. “If Tae learns, I’m a dead man.”

Reality crashes harder than a tsunami on a beach, and you try to pull away. Jungkook holds onto you, even when you push on his chest.

“I was just going to say,” he adds so you’d stop pushing him, “that we should keep this between us.”

You nod against him as you finally stop trying to pull away. “Yes, I agree.”

“Good.”

And Tae doesn’t cross your mind for the rest of the morning. Eventually, you and Jungkook decide to move out of the safe comfort of the covers, needing to eat something before you die, as Jungkook jokes. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen before you figure your room is far warmer than the rest of the apartment. You retreat with fruits, while Jungkook grabs a bowl of the food he cooked yesterday.

Watching him eat it cold makes you gag, so you turn away from him to focus on eating your apple and blueberries.

“What?” he says, and he sounds like his mouth is full.

“How can you even be eating that?”

There are a few seconds of silence, while he clearly swallows his bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

You scrunch up your nose in disgust, glancing at him over your shoulder. His gaze is narrowed, eyebrows bunched together over his eyes as he fakes offence, or perhaps suspicion. It makes you snort, and you look away from him before you speak again.

“It’s cold.”

“Wow, is it?” he teases. “Never would have noticed.”

You roll your eyes, forcing your laugh down because Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be making you laugh anyway. Silence replaces the conversation, and you finish eating in peace, watching the world outside the window.

It looks straight out of a fairy tale. The trees are covered in a thick coat of ice, and they glisten in the morning light as if they are made of glass. It’s beautiful, in an unforgiving way, and you find peace in their contemplation.

Peace in this comfortable silence with Jungkook.

By the time you’re done eating, Jungkook has wolfed down the bowl he made for himself, and you both return to the kitchen to put away the dishes you’d used. Jungkook leans against the counter while you rinse them, arms folded on his chest.

“What should we do today?” he asks.

You cock an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Unless you want to be alone.”

Your eyes dart to him quickly, before returning to the safety of the spot where the jet of water hits the bowl you’re holding. “What do you want to do?”

“We could go for a car ride,” he suggests. “To charge up our phones.”

“Don’t you think the roads are a little too dangerous right now?”

He plays with his piercing as he frowns slightly, clearly not having thought about this. “Right.” You watch as the cogs work in his brain, and you can’t help the smile that slowly grows on your lips when his features light up. “We can just stay parked somewhere.”

“We’d still have to get there.”

He furrows his brows. “I’m sure they’ve put salt on the streets, we should be okay.”

What he doesn’t know is that you don’t need convincing. You’ve already decided you’d go, mostly because you do need to charge your phone. Not because you really need it right now, but just because the thought of not having it with you feels strange.

“We’re going?” Jungkook presses as you remain silent.

He must be immune to the teasing glint you know for a fact has taken over your eyes. You sigh, before nodding once. “Sure.”

He beams. “Let’s go!”

His enthusiasm makes you laugh, and you turn the tap off before turning to watch him as he’s leaving the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we brush our teeth and freshen up first?”

He stops in his tracks. “Right.” He turns, flashing you a grin that reveals the same dimples you noticed yesterday. “Good luck with taking a shower, though.”

You snort. “Let’s just brush our teeth.”

Which is what you do, Jungkook pushing you with his hips as you stand next to him. You flip him off, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at you.

It stabs right through your heart, and you look away, searching for salvation on the tiles of the floor. It does nothing – reality is just a heartbeat away, and no matter how easy it is with Jungkook right now, you’re very aware that the moment the world returns to normalcy, your relationship with him will too.

And you still don’t understand where this is coming from. Where this easy complicity between you comes from, and why you’ve never really noticed before. Was it because of Taehyung?

It’s a question you ask yourself for the next hour, as you sit in Jungkook’s car listening to music and belting out tunes even though you’re not half the singer that he is. He doesn’t mention it, only laughs along with you before asking you stupid questions about your past, about Taehyung when you grew up and why you decided to move in with them.

He clearly doesn’t like you saying that it was just because it was convenient. It’s clear as spring water, and he pouts slightly as he says, “Not even for me?”

You punch him in the shoulder. “I didn’t know you when I moved in.”

“But now you do,” he teases, smirk moving on his lips.

There’s more meaning to his words than it seems, and you feel blush creeping on your cheeks. “Do I?”

“I’d say watching me jerk off and come is a good way to get to know me, no?”

“Jungkook!”

He laughs like a child as you flush furiously purple, trying to ignore how, as a matter of fact, his words are actually turning you on. You don’t want to think about last night, just want to focus on the now, on this unexpected friendship.

Jungkook has other plans for you, because he says, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re blushing.”

If possible, your glare intensifies. “Shut the fuck up.”

He dissolves in a fit of giggles that makes your heart skip a beat, and you roll your eyes before glancing at your phone.

“Mine’s full now,” you mutter.

For a reason you don’t quite understand, Jungkook has two phone cords in his car, both of them working to charge. He glances at his phone, shaking his head.

“You’re going to be stuck with me for longer, peach,” he tells you mischievously. “Mine’s only on 75%.”

“Do you really need it full?”

He offers you an innocent smile. “Definitely.”

Your phone buzzes, and you both glance towards it. You’ve received a text from Ria, in the group chat you share with the whole friend group. She’s asking how everyone’s surviving, and if anyone needs to crash at the dorm, which for some reason, is the only place on campus that still has power.

You hesitate for half a heartbeat before turning your phone off.

*****

Today was fun, albeit cold. After charging your phones in Jungkook’s car, you took a long walk through campus, just talking about everything and nothing as if you’d always been close.

As if he didn’t finger you with his cum last night.

Whenever the thought resurfaces, it makes you startle, and Jungkook smirks. Because he knows – obviously he does.

He knows the effect he has on you. You think he sees how you tense whenever his hand touches yours, whenever he stands just a little too close. And maybe that’s why you avoided going home for a long time, because you’re afraid that being stuck between four walls with him again will make you go insane.

Alas, when you both grow hungry sometime in the afternoon, you can’t force him to stay out, so you follow him home, ignoring the weight of your turned-off phone in your pocket.

Fortunately enough, on all the journey walking around campus, you didn’t run into anyone from your friend group. Somehow, you were afraid that you would – what would they think if they saw you hanging out with Jungkook?

More importantly, what would Hoseok think? Maybe it makes you an asshole, but in the moment, you don’t really care. You are entirely focused on Jungkook, mostly because it’s easy to be entirely focused on him. As if he’s the full moon in a summer night sky – he makes all the stars hard to see, as he shines too bright for their glow to be noticeable.

You sigh as you’re settled in the kitchen, door closed as Jungkook reheats something on the stove. It’s not extremely cold in the apartment, but keeping the door shut does help with keeping the kitchen warm enough to be bearable with only a thick sweater on.

You think Jungkook is crazy. He’s only wearing a beige and indigo athletic Nike vest, and he’s left it unzipped because he claimed he was getting too warm. Underneath, a white t-shirt rests loosely around his waist, and you’ve been doing your best to forget just how dainty his waist is, under all the clothes.

“See, we’re going to build up your heat tolerance,” he says over his shoulder, and he flashes you a grin before focusing on what he’s reheating again.

“Good luck with that,” you answer, chuckling. “I’ve tried before, and nothing works.”

“You and Tae really are the worst at that,” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes even if he can’t see.

Indeed, he’s turned his head towards the window, and he watches the sun as it gets lower in the sky, nearing the horizon. You’re afraid of when it’ll be gone under; you’re afraid it’ll elicit sinful activities between you and Jungkook again.

Afraid, yet with a certain kind of apprehension to it. Perhaps because it’s not fear of him, but rather fear of yourself.

It’s hard to remember that he’s Taehyung’s best friend when you’re alone with him like this.

Especially when he sets a steaming bowl of food in front of you, a wicked smile on his lips as he forces you to eat. As you choke on it, the heat too much to handle for you. Jungkook laughs out loud before handing you a glass of ice-cold water.

It barely helps, and the heat remains for a while as you eat, and even more so as you’re done, watching Jungkook eating a second portion as if he hasn’t eaten the first one in record time. You’re playing music on your phone, your usual study playlist – lo-fi beats – and Jungkook seems to like it. He’s been nodding his head to the music as he devoured his bowl.

When he finishes eating, sitting back in his chair as he rests a hand on his stomach, he once again offers you the wide grin. The sun is setting now – the whole kitchen is turning to gold, and you hate that the glow makes him look ethereal, like he’s a piece of heaven fallen to Earth for you to enjoy.

“Do you want to wash yourself?” Jungkook asks out of the blue. You cock an eyebrow in question, but before you’ve had a chance to say anything, he adds, “We could warm some water on the stove and use that to wash ourselves.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s actually a good idea.”

“Come on, peach,” he lets out, and he chuckles as he shakes his head, a little condescendingly. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

Stupid wouldn’t be the word that you’d use. Arrogant, maybe. Too full of himself, for sure. But you don’t think that saying so would be a good idea, so you only shrug.

“Aren’t you?”

He bursts out laughing, that goofy smile that makes your heart skip beats in your chest as if you’re twelve and it’s the first time you’re speaking to a guy. “I’m not, thank you very much. I wouldn’t be in college if I was.”

“Lots of stupid people are in college,” you point out mischievously.

He tuts. “I’d thought by now you’d know I’m not a lot of people, peach.” He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes drop to your lips. “You get fingered by a lot of guys like that?”

You turn to fire. “Excuse me?”

And the goofy smile returns, as if he didn’t just say the crudest sentence in the world. “Just teasing you.”

You narrow your eyes but don’t find any retort to that. It makes Jungkook’s grin widen, and then he gets up to bring your bowl and his to the sink. As he’s rinsing them, he offers you a look.

“Should I reheat some water then?” he asks, the teasing tone gone.

You try a look towards him, but standing there, the sun forms too much of an aura around him, so you can barely see him even if you squint your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“One pot for you and one for me, then!”

His statement makes you laugh, and you get up to actually help him get the pots on the stove. You turn the gas on, using the lighter so that the flames catch, and soon the water is heating up, and the prospect of freshening up brings a smile to your lips.

You notice Jungkook looking at it, features turning somber. And he’s quick to look away. Quick to focus on where the sun dipped under the horizon, watching the clouds turning to gold above.

“Have you spoken to Tae today?” he asks, and the reminder of your brother makes you clench your jaw, ever so slightly.

“No,” you admit. You think he’ll say more, but he remains silent. So you take it upon yourself to make conversation, and you ask, “Have you?”

He shrugs. “Just told him the power is still out.”

“Mmh.”

The silence is deafening then – you can barely hear it over the clamour in your thoughts. And you don’t know where it’s coming from, only that the more the silence stretches, the more you grow unsteady on your feet.

“How did you guys meet?” you ask, voice sounding a little strained.

Jungkook shoots you a look. “He didn’t tell you?”

You purse your lips and shake your head no, which earns you a chuckle from him. It makes you grow suspicious, and you narrow your gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.” He pauses, observes your features for a moment with those big doe eyes of his before he says, “We met Frosh week.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“He was pissed out drunk in a bush,” Jungkook admits, and his eyes fog up with the memories as he looks away from you. “Jimin is the one that found him first. And mind you, I only knew Jimin for a few days then, since we were dorm roommates.”

But you know how easy friendship forms in that Frosh week. You and Nabi are a good example of it after all.

“We couldn’t find anyone who knew him, so we brought him back to the dorm. He threw up in Jimin’s bed, and the next day he suggested grabbing breakfast together, as a thank you for taking care of him.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, and his gaze connects with yours. “And the rest is history.”

It sure is. You’re not really sure where you come into this story – if you should come into it at all. Because Jungkook and Taehyung really are close – what would Taehyung say if he knew what Jungkook and you did?

It’s a scary thought, one that you’ve remedied with Jungkook already. You just have to not tell Taehyung, simple as that.

“I think the water is ready,” Jungkook admits, and he dips his fingers in one of the pots. He nods, before saying, “You can grab yours, and go to the bathroom. I’ll clean up in my room.”

“Don’t you need soap?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know soap can be carried outside of a bathroom? Like, it’s not confined-“

His sentence dies as you punch him in the chest, and he starts laughing as you curse him under your breath, grabbing the pot.

“Open the door for me,” you grumble as you walk towards it.

“Please?”

You look up to the water-stained ceiling. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.”

You debate silently, though you know that you’ll cave in.

You reckon you’ll always cave in where Jungkook is concerned.

“Can you please open the door for me?” you ask, and you scold yourself internally for not being able to stand your ground.

“Of course, peach,” he says, grinning widely. “I can actually carry that to the bathroom for you, I need to grab soap and a towel anyway.”

He walks towards you, gently taking the pot out of your hands, so you end up opening the door for him, begrudgingly following him to the bathroom. You follow him in, watching him as he carefully puts the pot down in the sink.

“Here you go,” he says as he shoots you a look over his shoulder.

You can’t help but look away as your gazes connect, before mumbling, “Thank you.”

“You could at least sound happy about it,” he teases. You roll your eyes, though a smile teases the corners of your lips. Jungkook taps your cheek, and you bristle, stepping away from him.

If he cares he doesn’t show it, instead moving to grab a washcloth and his shower gel.

Are you disappointed to see him go? Maybe. But you don’t let it show, instead shutting the door behind him, making sure to lock it before you strip out of your clothes to wash up.

It’s freezing, and you hate every second of it, so you make it quick, washing the most strategic and important body parts. When you’re done, you move to grab your clean clothes from the…

You never grabbed clean clothes, did you?

You curse under your breath, mostly cursing Jungkook for making you so stupid around him. You hate it - you feel like you lose most of your brain cells when he’s around. But you can’t help it, and you tightly wrap yourself in a towel as you pray to the God above, if there’s one, to not make you run into Jungkook as you walk back to your room.

Of course, Jungkook opens the door to his room the second you are in front of it. You startle, freezing like a deer in headlights, and Jungkook’s gaze dips to your legs.

You hate the smirk growing on his lips the second it appears.

“What’s got you walking around naked in this temperature?”

Though you reckon his gaze warms you up in an instant, you reply, “Fuck off, I just forgot to get clean clothes.”

He leans against his doorframe, slipping his hands in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He looks the perfect picture of male insolence, and fuck, it does things to you that it shouldn’t.

Like, make you remember that he fingered you with his cum yesterday. Thinking about it, it was a really stupid thing to do, but you hadn’t been able to resist…

And from the way he’s eyeing you right now, you highly doubt you’ll be able to resist him again. You realize then that the apartment is darkening, that soon you’ll have to light up the candles…

You’re sinking in quicksands, aren’t you?

“How unfortunate,” Jungkook comments, always so arrogant.

“I said it already, but do really fuck off, JK,” you reply.

He tilts his head to the side - the predator, and you, its next meal. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday.”

You blush, bright scarlet taking over your features, and you roll your eyes, choosing to ignore his comment as you finish walking to your room.

“That’s what I thought,” he says behind you, and you flip him off over your shoulder, which makes him laugh that boyish laugh that does things to you.

You lean against the bedroom door once you get in, heart beating out of your chest, cursing power for going out, and cursing your brother for choosing to do a semester abroad.

It’s useless - the cursing, that is. Because it won’t change anything, and a small, tiny, minuscule part of you doesn’t want it to… so you curse yourself too for good measure.

By the time you finally emerge from your bedroom, the sun has fully set, and you’ve been using your phone as a flashlight. Jungkook is sitting in the living room, playing on his Switch, which apparently still has battery, and he glances at you as you approach.

“Want to play a game?” he asks, offering you a small smile.

His features are lit from the screen, and he looks soft, his big eyes slightly crinkling at the corners. You hold in your own smile, instead cocking an eyebrow.

“So that I can beat your ass?” you say.

You watch as fire catches in his gaze, and you think he’s about to burn you to the spot. “Oh, you wanna play this game?” he says, his voice suddenly an octave lower.

A thrilled shiver runs down your spine, and you finish crossing the distance between you and him, sitting next to him. The leather couch is freezing, but you hold your wince in as you motion to the Switch.

“You think you can beat my ass?” he asks.

“I know I can.”

He smirks, leaning back on the couch. He rests his head against the backrest, turning his head towards you. “Oh, peach,” he breathes out. “You’re cute when you try to be sassy.”

You widen your gaze. “Try to be sassy! I’m serious, I’ll beat your ass.”

“In any game?” he asks, and his eyes dip to your lips.

“Mario Kart,” you say, folding your arms on your chest.

You’re wearing a thick sweater, yet it doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down, and you know exactly what he’s seeing - you, with your legs spread wide open for him like they were yesterday.

“Winner gets head,” he says, and you really think you’re about to catch fire.

“What about Tae?”

You can’t help the question. Because you don’t want to do that to your brother, but you’ve been unable to resist. You know shame and guilt will catch up to you one day - hell, Ria will never let you live it down if she learns what’s already happened.

Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t think it’d make any difference after yesterday.”

“So you want me to choke on your dick?”

Night and you and Jeon Jungkook really don’t mix well, do they? Because you want him. You want him so bad right now you think you’re about to go insane, yet you know you shouldn’t.

“Fuck, peach.” He chuckles. “I want to know if you taste as good as you look.”

You wet your lips, and his eyes fall to your mouth, staying there as you say, “Well then, winner gets head,” you murmur, and you think he’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and jump on you.

You really do think he won’t be able to resist, and frankly, you don’t want him to. You feel yourself leaning forward, a moth to the flame, but Jungkook clears his throat, and his eyes shoot to yours.

“Deal.”

Jungkook sets up the game, and since you can’t play multiplayer thanks to the power being out and the TV not functioning, you settle on whoever gets first place first. Which you reckon is stupid - getting first place when you’re playing against the AI isn’t really an impressive feat.

You shiver before Jungkook starts his race, and he pauses the game to glance at you. “Do you want to go to your room?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Too excited to play here?”

He rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “No, you’re freezing, and I figured, since your room is the smallest, if we do like yesterday, we can probably keep it warm. Or at least warmer than here.” His last words are accompanied by a vague motion of his hand encompassing the living room, and you reckon he does have a point.

“Sure then,” you say, nodding once.

You get up from the couch, and Jungkook quickly follows you. He’s so close, looming behind you like he’s the predator about to pounce on its prey, and you shudder with delight, warmth pooling in your lower stomach.

You think he knows. You’re convinced he does, because a few minutes later, when you’re in your room with the candles on, sitting on your bed, he leans against the wall, abandoning his Switch to the side.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s so easy to get into your bed, peach,” he teases, and you startle when one of his large hands lightly grazes your thigh.

You swat it away without an ounce of regret, even though the spot he touched feels like it’s been hit by lightning. “Are you saying I’m easy?”

His mouth falls open and he looks surprised, even maybe a little apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

The wicked smile you offer him makes him chuckle as he realizes you were teasing him, and he grabs his Switch, his brow creasing a little with the frown that adorns his features from concentrating. It’s cute. You reckon it’s adorable, and you reckon you shouldn’t feel that way about your brother’s best friend, so you push the thought as far away as you can.

It’s not like Jungkook is the kind of guy you should feel endearment for. Because you know he’d only break your heart - he’s not the most popular guy on campus for nothing, after all.

“Ready?” he tells you.

You nod. “Good luck.”

He doesn’t need it. He gets first place, and he puts his Switch down on the bed as you realize what it means.

But you’re not going to give in so easily to him, will you?

“If I get first place, too, then this doesn’t count.”

He fake-glares at you, but he shrugs. “Alright. Let’s see if you can get first place.”

The way he says it is ominous, and you gulp, cheeks flushing with pink as you grab the Switch. As per always, you choose Peach as your character, which obviously earns you a snicker from Jungkook, but you don’t mind.

Maybe because you’re starting to like when he calls you peach.

You easily start the race in the first position, Peach racing and drifting ahead of the AI-controlled characters. Jungkook shifts next to you, attracting your attention, and you almost run into a wall, thankfully recovering quickly.

It doesn’t last long. Because next time he shifts, Jungkook brushes your thigh, and you just know he has a wicked smirk on his lips without having to look at him.

“Stop,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” he purrs, and you nudge him with an elbow. He just laughs, his hand now resting flatly on your thigh. “Got trouble focusing?”

“You’re cheating,” you whine, and you’re hit by a blue shell which puts you back a few positions.

“Am I?” he breathes out.

You sigh as he leans closer to you, and his nose brushes your cheek. Instinctively, you tilt your head to the side, and he chuckles as he pushes your hair off your shoulder, before leaning even closer.

His lips ghost on your neck, and your eyes flutter close, the Switch entirely forgotten in your hands.

“Jungkook…”

His tongue darts out, tasting you, and then he sucks a hickey on your skin. “What?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice barely over a whisper.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my fingers inside of you,” he says, huskily. “All fucking day.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and you let out a breathy sound that makes him chuckle again. “Just been thinking about how you’d feel on my dick too.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.” He kisses your jaw, and then pulls away, sitting back against the wall. “I think you lost.”

You open your eyes, realizing that you’re still holding the Switch. He’s right – the AIs have finished while Jungkook was teasing you, and you stare at the screen for a few seconds before meeting his gaze.

He looks victorious, happy with himself. You want to wipe the smirk off his lips, so you put down the Switch on the bed, kneeling next to him.

“So you want me to suck your dick now?” you say, voice low, and you drag a hand on his thigh.

His tongue toys with his piercings. “Well, wasn’t that the deal?”

Emboldened, you straddle his lap, and you wrap a hand around his throat for support. You feel him swallow, and you lean closer, watching as the smirk slowly disappears from his lips.

“Was it?”

He gulps. He fucking gulps, and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. Even though the room is cold, you feel warm, a tingly sensation slowly taking over your entire body. His eyes fall to your mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “Yes.”

You have him right where you want him to be. “Damn, who knew Jeon Jungkook wanted me so bad?”

You lean in, brushing your lips on his, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything, though you can tell that he wants to touch you.

Maybe because you’re perched on his erection.

“Maybe Tae should have left before, mmh?” you continue. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate…”

Jungkook grabs your waist, spinning you around dizzyingly until you’re on the bed and he’s hovering over you. “Enough,” he says, voice rough.

You don’t lose the smirk. “Or what?”

He wets his lips and then leans in. “I’m going to have so much fun wiping that smirk from your lips, peach.”

“Oh, will you now?” you fire back. “Better get into action then.”

One of his hands grabs the side of your head, tightening around your hair, and he forces you to turn your head to the side. He leaves wet kisses down your neck and then moves back up to your jaw.

“If only Tae knew how much of a slut you are,” Jungkook says. “A pretty little slut.” Your smirk wavers as he pushes your legs apart with a knee. “I wonder, are you already soaked for me, mmh?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

He chuckles darkly. “Fucking hell, you really are driving me crazy.”

And even though you shouldn’t, even though Jungkook is your older brother’s best friend, even though you know guilt will eventually catch up to you, you say, “Then act on it, JK. Show me just how crazy I’m making you feel.”

His mouth collides with yours with force, and you immediately reach up, running your hands through his hair. He sucks on your tongue, earning a moan from you, and he grunts as you pull on his hair, the soft strands feeling like silk on your fingers.

He grinds into you, and you feel the powerful length of him rub against you. You know he’ll stretch you wide open, and you want him so bad it almost hurts.

You think you’ve wanted him for months already. Yesterday, you could blame it on the alcohol, on your inhibition being altered, but today… Today you know it’s always been about the tattoos, the piercings, and the shameless flirting.

You’ve been in Jungkook’s orbit ever since September – you were bound to crash into him someday.

Jungkook pulls away to meet your gaze. The weight of his body on yours feels right – better than Hoseok’s ever felt. The thought douses you, and you think Jungkook notices.

You know he does, because he says, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes flit around his features for a time – his nose, his mouth, the mole underneath his lips, his left eye, the scar on his cheek. They eventually settle on his lip piercings.

“Are you getting insecure?” you tease. Because it’s all that you know how to do, the only way you can think of pushing the vulnerability away.

His tongue pokes at his cheek, and he presses another searing kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan softly as he grinds again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, your arms circling his neck as well.

When he pulls away next, it’s to rest his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a few seconds, until he says, “Consent is hot, peach. Tell me you want it, or I’m stopping now.”

“I want it, JK,” you answer. “I want you to fuck me dumb until my room isn’t cold anymore.”

Jungkook straightens, kneeling between your legs. The candles cast flickering lights on his honey skin, and you watch unblinkingly as he takes off his shirt.

He’s beautiful. You realized that yesterday, though you didn’t see him without the shirt. But he’s truly beautiful, all muscle and delicate waist, and his skin glows golden under the light of the candles. His brown nipples are perked prettily on his chest, and you want to touch him, want to drag your hands over every powerful line of his body.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold,” he says, and he quickly bends down again.

You grab the blankets, pulling them on top of him. Without any trace of hesitation, you rest your hands on his back, and you lightly scratch him with your nails.

“Then we better get you warmed up,” you purr.

You don’t need to say it twice. Jungkook finds your mouth again, and he grunts as you dig your nails in his skin, before releasing the pressure. He then goes down to your jaw, down your neck, and he disappears under the covers, spreading your legs wide open with his large hands.

“Can I take these off?” his muffled voice says from beneath the blankets.

You pull enough on the covers to see his face, big doe eyes awaiting your consent. “Yes.”

He smirks wickedly. “Good.”

He’s quick to rid you of your pants. He leaves your panties on, his large hands caressing your thighs as he settles between your legs. You know he’s going to eat you out, and you think you’ll go insane. But nothing could have prepared you for how much of a tease he is.

Indeed, Jungkook presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, mouth ghosting over where you need him the most, never once giving in to your desires. You’re soaking wet, painfully so by the time you groan, hand flying to his hair as you try to push his head where you want him.

He resists, chuckling darkly. “Growing a little impatient?”

“Eat me out,” you answer breathlessly. “Fuck.”

“Why should I?” He bites the inside of your thigh. “I love watching you squirm under me.”

You whine, yet this time, he licks the wet spot on your panties. Your thighs instinctively close, and he forces them wide open again.

“Don’t move,” he orders.

You try to obey. You really do, but when he pushes your panties to the side and sucks on your clit, your back arches off the bed.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out.

He doesn’t answer, too busy pushing his tongue inside you, parting your folds easily. You moan, and your grip on his hair tightens, though you keep him close. And he doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away. He starts making out with your pussy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs with every swipe of his tongue.

Soon, he gets bored of pushing his tongue in and out of you, and he moves back to your clit, circling it unforgivingly. He’s good, that much you’ll admit, and when he circles your entrance with one long finger, you moan again.

“You want it?” he asks, pulling away just long enough to voice the words.

He’s right back on your clit a fraction of a second later, and he sucks on it, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue.

You feel the orgasm. It’s still far, but it’s on the horizon of your conscience, and you know it’ll hit good once it does. So you say, “Please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t disappoint. He pushes his finger in, arches it to rub that sweet spot inside of you in time with the motions of his tongue on your clit. You grind in his face by reflex, and he grunts against you as you do so, resting his tongue flat on your clit so that you can pleasure yourself on his face.

He must know it’s not enough. Because after a few seconds of it, he starts moving his face from side to side, and the orgasm looms closer, aiming for you at the speed of light.

It hits when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, stretching you, and your walls clench hard against his digits, though he keeps on pushing them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He sucks on your clit as you come, and you think you’ve moaned his name at least twice by the time he finally pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shit, peach,” he says, and you watch him through the ecstasy blurring your gaze. “You taste so fucking good.”

As if he wants to show you, he captures your mouth in a kiss. You taste yourself, but you’re too fucked out to be able to agree or disagree with him. All you can do is moan in his mouth, and he swallows it with a swipe of his tongue.

And as he keeps kissing you, keeps branding himself in your mouth, you run your hand on his body, blood boiling from the sheer strength that you know he has. You reach for the band of his sweatpants, going lower to wrap your hand around his clothed length.

He’s big and heavy in your hand.

Mostly, he’s not wearing any underwear. Or if he is, they are extremely loose, because you’re able to wrap your fingers around him even through the sweatpants. He bucks his hips, and you tighten your hold.

“Why don’t you put that pretty hand under the clothes, mmh?” he teases against your jaw, before he goes to nibbling on your ear. “I’ve been wanting to feel it wrapped around my cock.”

You don’t hesitate. You move back up to the band of his sweatpants, and you quickly push your hand in. You sigh in delight as you find he’s not wearing any underwear, fingers grazing over the velvety softness of his length. He hisses but doesn’t say anything as you test the waters, slowly grabbing his dick.

You lightly stroke him, and he bucks his hips, trying to fuck your hand.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” you tease him, and he bites at your jaw.

“I’ve been wanting you for a really long time, peach.”

His words make your heart pause in your chest. Because you feel like there’s a deeper meaning, like it isn’t just shameless flirting in the heat of the action. It reminds you of the kiss yesterday, of the way he’d pulled you on his lap with no other intention than to kiss you.

And it makes you tighten your grip on his dick, and he grunts as you start jerking him off faster. But it’s awkward and clumsy with the sweatpants on, so you pull your hand out after a few seconds.

“Take these off,” you say, and he immediately kneels to obey, taking off his sweatpants quickly before resuming his position between your legs.

You’re not sure you were prepared for the sight of Jeon Jungkook fully naked in your bed. Though goosebumps prick at his skin from the cold, he still looks devilish, like he’s about to drag you to hell. His dick stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin.

He’s big. And not just his dick. Jungkook works out a lot, spends hours every week at the gym, and it truly shows in every angle of him. He looks sculpted in marble, a perfect body that accentuates the beauty of his features, that contradicts the innocence of his big eyes.

Or maybe what truly contradicts it is the way he fists his cock, jerking off quickly as he eyes you. As he stares you down, and you feel ready to go all over again just from the sight of it.

“You have condoms?” he asks, and he grunts as he keeps jerking himself off.

You have half a thought to tell him to keep going, to come all over you, but you want it too much to resist. So you motion to your night table, saying, “Bottom drawer.”

He nods appreciatively, letting go of his cock so that he can bend and rummage through the drawer until he finds the condoms. He winces as he straightens, a tinfoil package in hand.

“Pretty sure that’s going to be too tight for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Condoms stretch, you know that?”

“Not enough,” he says, flicking your nose teasingly. “But I don’t think we should go raw, so that’ll do.”

Yet, the thought of going raw with him… You grab a hold of his wrist before he’s able to start unrolling the condom on his dick, and he cocks an eyebrow as he meets your gaze.

“Are you clean?”

You see him gulp. Indeed, his throat bobs, and he tilts his head to the side. “Got tested last week,” he admits. “But I really don’t think we should go raw.”

“I’m clean.”

“You’ve been fucking that other guy,” Jungkook says.

“We always wear protection.”

Jungkook purses his lips, taking a deep breath. “Honestly peach, I think I wouldn’t last a minute if I fucked you raw right now. Let me put the condom on.”

He says it in a stern way that makes you let go of his wrist. You feel bad, wondering if you were pushing a boundary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem like he notices. Indeed, he busies himself with putting the condom on, rolling it down his dick, and he winces in pain once it’s all the way down.

“That shit’s fucking tight,” he comments, and then he positions himself between your legs again. His large hands find your thighs, and he caresses up and down once before meeting your gaze. “Are you okay?” he asks, with no lust or desire or anything other than concern for you.

Because of course, he’d notice that you’re feeling bad.

“Sorry if I was insisting…” you say, vaguely motioning to his dick.

He looks down at himself. “About the condom?” He waits for you to nod your head before he says anything else. “Peach, don’t worry about it. I’m seriously close right now, which is really fucking weird, and I just want to be able to make you feel good, m’kay?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You melt, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. He chuckles, mumbling against your lips, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but you really turn me on.”

You think you know what it is. You don’t think it’s about you, or about him. It’s rather about the feeling of doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Of doing something forbidden, because he’s Taehyung’s friend, and you’re Taehyung’s younger sister.

But you don’t say it. Instead, you whisper, “Then fuck me good, Jungkook.”

He lets out a breathy sound as he leans his forehead against yours. There’s something so intimate about the gesture that you feel your heart soaring in your chest, and then he pushes your ruined panties to the side again so that he can nudge your entrance with his dick.

“I will,” he promises, and then he pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck. “Let me know if it hurts.”

Unforgivingly, Jungkook slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, and he quickly captures your lips in a kiss as he stays right there, deep inside of you, unmoving so that you can adjust around him. And you know you have a lot of adjusting to do – he’s so large it burns, yet the pain feels good. Far too good, and you easily understand how Jungkook got the reputation that he has.

When Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, he slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your walls suck him in, and he grunts, leaning his forehead against yours once more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good.”

Before you can reply, Jungkook establishes a steady rhythm. Nothing too crazy, but the drag of his dick on your walls is making you see stars, and you softly moan as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

“Moan for me, peach,” he breathlessly says. “I want to hear you fucking screaming my name.”

And then everything changes. Jungkook kneels between your thighs, pulls your legs against his chest, and starts pounding into you, bending down just enough to hit the sweetest spot inside of you. The change of rhythm and position makes you cry out, and your walls clench around him.

He echoes your cry with a moan of his own, something breathless that makes you want to look at him, to stay with him like this forever. So you open your eyes, and the sight of him is nearly enough to make you climax right then and there.

Yet you don’t. You don’t come as you just watch him, watch the way he’s frowning, teeth digging in his lower lip once in a while. Beads of sweat quickly appear on his temples, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t falter, not even once, as he fucks you, and you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower stomach.

You still don’t come. You keep it in – you don’t know why. You just enjoy the moment, refusing to rush towards its ending. Instead, when Jungkook pushes your legs open so that he can bend down and kiss you again, you welcome him in. You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close, and you scratch at his back with one hand, the other getting lost in his hair.

He grunts in your mouth, and he finally switches the rhythm, aiming for harder yet slower. It makes him reach new depths, and you can’t help but moan loudly as he keeps going, keeps ramming into you.

For the first time ever since you moved here, your bed slams into the wall from the force of Jungkook’s thrusts. It’s hot, especially as he moves to your neck, sucking hard.

“Best fucking pussy,” he says in your ear. “Fuck.”

And then he straightens again, forcing you to let go of him, before pulling out. You whine at the sudden loss of sensation, but he just looks down at your pussy, licking his lips at the sight.

“You’re so fucking creamy and wet,” he tells you. “Look at my cock.”

You obey, looking down to where your bodies almost meet. His dick is indeed covered with your juices, and Jungkook gently pushes it between your folds, collecting even more juice. It’s sinful, inherently so, and you moan lightly as he rubs his dick on your clit.

“Think you’ll be able to come for me again?” he asks.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes in and out quickly, and he smirks wickedly as you nod, once.

“Make me come,” you say, finding some defiance in you again. “You think you’ll be able to do that for me?”

His gaze widens, and then he chuckles. “Fuck peach.” He chuckles again, slightly shaking his head. “I’m going to get addicted to this fucking pussy of yours.”

You whine as he moves from between your legs, lying down on his back. You shoot him a look, and he motions at his body as if in invitation. It makes you laugh, yet you still climb on top of him, grinding on his dick.

His eyes go to your chest, and he gently grabs the hem of your shirt. Even though it’s still cold in your room – though warmer than before – you quickly take off your shirt, wincing as the cold air hits you head on.

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises, and his hands reach up to push your breasts together. “So fucking pretty.”

You blush slightly under the praise, and you’re about to sink on his dick when he stops you. Your eyes go wide, and he motions to your panties.

“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.”

He says it with so much reverence for you that you can’t say no. You can only obey, sitting next to him just long enough so that you can remove the panties. They are soaked, and you throw them towards the dirty clothes hamper before climbing back on top of Jungkook.

Your gazes meet, and there’s a moment of you watching each other. You wish you could read his gaze, wish you could know what it means when he grabs your wrists to pull you down. Your eyes never disconnect from his, not even as one of his hands goes between your bodies so that he can align his dick with your entrance.

And then he pushes up, pushes in. As if you forgot just how big he is, you moan, eyes fluttering shut on instinct. Jungkook grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist, before saying, “Look at me.”

You do. You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he starts jackhammering into you, the new angle so good you feel like you’re slowly slipping out of your body, soaring towards the sky outside. It’s so good all you can think about is him, his body, the way that he holds you so gently yet fucks you so rough. You rest one hand on the side of his face as he keeps fucking you, and when you can’t resist anymore, you hide your face in his neck.

“You’re such a good girl,” Jungkook says. “You take me so fucking well.” He grunts loudly, slamming to the hilt. You think he’s coming, but then he pulls almost all the way out, before slamming in again. “I never want to stop fucking you.”

You moan, and then your lips ghost on the shell of his ear. Though you’ve been struggling to speak, you say, “You’re so fucking big.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “Let me know if I hurt you.”

You whine. “Never. You’d never hurt me.”

His grip on you tightens, like he’s trying to say he wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t be able to, and then he’s fucking you again. The knot in your stomach comes back in full force, especially as he starts whispering filthy praises in your ear, growing more breathless with every swipe of his hips.

Just when you think you’ll come, Jungkook grunts, “I’m going to c-“

He never finishes his sentence, but the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you as he stills deep inside makes you fly over the edge, and your walls start spasming around his cock, milking his orgasm. It feels far too good, like you’ve reached nirvana, and it takes you so long to come down from your high that you believe you never will.

But you do. You do, and the first thing you notice is the cold. Though it’s a lot warmer than it was when you started this whole ordeal, you still shiver.

Jungkook gently pulls a blanket over you, before circling your waist again. He doesn’t let go, not even as his dick, now soft, slips out of you. He lets you lay on top of him, ear against his chest so that you listen to his heartbeat, refusing to move.

You don’t want anything to pop this bubble of peace. Never. You just want to stay here with him, content breathing in the same air as him, until eternity flashes in front of you. Until you grow old and grey, to go to sleep forever. It’s a powerful feeling, though you like to tell yourself that it’s mutual. That his heart, beating softly in his chest, beats for you, in time with the beats of your own heart. You hope that he, too, doesn’t want to let go, though you reckon that this probably was just a hook-up to him, something he’ll be proud of, yet keep to himself. Because wouldn’t Jungkook be the kind of guy to be proud he bagged the little sister? You think he would.

And the thought scares you more than you would ever dare to admit.

Prev | Chapter 4.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Is it me or is it hot in here? oof- Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope that smidge of angst at the end doesn't scare you too much...... bc trust me it scares me OOP

#chasing cars ch 4 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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cherryblossompink303 · 3 months ago

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Patience:~The Sun, the Sea, and the Host Club!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: what was meant to be a relaxing trip to the beach turns into the strangest interaction with Kyoya ➼ what to expect: "You want to know what we are y/n? The truth is I don't even know the answer but what I do know is that you cannot do stuff like that" ➼ warnings: small amounts of angst ➼Part seven | Part Nine

You are hoping that after everything that went down at the jungle resort that you may finally get a truly relaxing break today. Although given who you are with you are unsure whether or not that will actually happen.

Yet still you try to finally get a tan, eyes closed as you sink further into the beach towel as the rest of the club talk around you.

“So… why’d we come to Okinawa?”

“Because Kyoya’s family has a private beach here.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“But why couldn’t we have gone-”

“- to the Caribbean?”

“Or even Fiji?”

“Do you think a commoner like Haruhi has a passport?”

You shoot up, opening your eyes “Kyoya!”

“Ah.”

“You do realize that I can hear what you’re saying, right?” Haruhi interjects.

Out on a protruding rock from the ocean, Tamaki is intimately situated with his arm around a patron’s shoulder.

“It’s so beautiful. Tamaki, being alone here with you and looking out at the sea, it’s like a dream.” She sighs dreamily.

“It’s no dream, it’s real, but if I could have my way, my princess. I’d be in your dreams every night.” Tamaki brings their faces to close proximity.

“Oh, Tamaki.” His guest swoons.

Utilizing the volleyball net, the twins and two guests play a game of two on two. Hikaru bumps the ball violently, and it goes flying over Kaoru and his guest’s head and rolling off behind them.

“Hey, take it easy, Hikaru!” Kaoru begs as he goes running off after the beach ball.

“I’m sorry! I’ll get it!” Hikaru calls, but it’s too late; Kaoru is already on his way.

It’s like a cheesy romance movie, where the two protagonists go prancing off along the shoreline in a beach montage, almost in slow-motion.

“Wait for me, Kaoru!” Hikaru calls after Kaoru as he continues along the sand.

“It’s not my fault! The ball is rolling away!” All you can hear from you position on a towel under an umbrella next to Haruhi are the giggles of two brothers who are fantastic actors. The pullover covers your nearly bare body nicely from the sun and keeps you warm in the shade.

Ah, yes, hosts working on location.

Beside you, Haruhi sits with her knees pulled up to her chest as a hermit crab scuttles by along the sand near the towel.

“Oh, Haruhi, look!” You carefully lift the crab by the shell and place it in your hand, shoving it near Haruhi.

You follow her line of sight to see Kyoya monitoring a line of girls in swimsuits, all waiting for a turn with the King in the VIP spot.

Haruhi groans, “Why?”

“Her alone time with Tamaki is up. Next lady, please proceed.” Kyoya ruins the facade of a moment with his announcement.

“This sucks. I thought going to the beach meant a day off.” Haruhi’s attention is drawn to Mori and Honey’s group stretching their limbs.

“Um, Haruhi?” A shadow casts over Haruhi’s back, and she turns to greet her caller. Well, rather three, this time.

“Aren’t you going to go swimming with us?” They urge, all three dressed in very flattering swimsuits.

“No, uh, I like looking at the sea from a safe distance.” Haruhi settles for.

“Well, if you’re not going to swim, would you mind if we sat here and talked with you?” the second patron inquires cautiously.

Now a natural facade, Haruhi charms the three guests effortlessly, “But why? You girls should go swim. You’ve got cute swimsuits on; why not show them off?”

Instead of rushing off to the ocean, the guests sigh in appreciation.

As your eyes dart back and forth between Haruhi and her infatuated guests, you take an obvious hint and haul yourself up from the ground, dusting off and waving a short goodbye to the ladies before joining the twins in their antics.

“I can’t believe he fooled us.” Hikaru opens with, picking up their lost beach ball and handing it to his brother.

“Who’d have thought he’d bring the ladies with us?” Kaoru shrugs, although not upset in the least. This is one of the rare schemes that Tamaki’s managed to fool them with.

“We certainly didn’t expect it.”

“You were invited on this all-expenses-paid vacation for a reason. And that is to keep our clients entertained.” Kyoya is seated under an outdoor table with an umbrella and two tropical drinks before him.

You hum in agreement, finally rejoining the land of the living as you reach for the second drink. "You guys want the photobooks to sell this is how we do it" You add.

The twins stand before the two of you in disbelief "Well don't you make quite the money hungry pair" hikaru muttered, you raise an eyebrow "Have you seen Tamaki's plans? someone has to find the budget for it"

The twins exchanged a glance as the two of them pondered it over, ultimately agreeing with the logic before running back to play volleyball.

"Are you not going to go off with them?" Kyoya asked, looking up over his glasses while still scribbling in his notebook. "Not yet, just taking it all in" you reply lightly, pulling your knees up to lean your book against.

"Taking what in?" He asks, he knows that you weren't exactly unfamiliar with beach trips, while it may be less common where you were from you still had gone on plenty of trips. "It is rare that we can get a moment where everything isn't...filtered"

The statement intrigues Kyoya, head tilting to the side "How so?" you sigh, closing the book as you stare out into the ocean, watching as the boys have a water fight and Haruhi goes rockpooling with the girls.

"While we do have clients here, most of us have still dropped our typical club persona's that we put up at school, there's no pressure to pretend to be something we're not"

Kyoya hums, following your gaze to watch the boys also. "Do you really think so?" he asks, placing his notebook down. "I know so. None of us are in the host club for the sake of being in the host club, we all put on persona's to ignore the persona's we have to put on for our families. When we can drop both of those...it's rare...but it is quite nice to see"

Kyoya pauses, staring back at you "You're quite insightful sometimes do you know that?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink" you shrug "It's my job to be"

"So what pretenses are you putting up then? you sounded as if you include yourself?" the question siezes in your chest as you question whether or not you should actually go there.

"I think it may be the same pretenses that you put up as well" you reply, not taking your eyes off of him as you analyse his reaction. Kyoya doesn't answer at first, having a mental war with himself as to how much information he should release to you.

You unintentionally hold your breath waiting for his answer, praying that he wouldn't shrug it off again, that he wouldn't shut off just this once. "And what is that?"

"That while we were in club hours, distracted by numbers and analytics, we can both ignore why we are always sat together and the future that is coming for us soon"

"Y/n-"

"It is fine Kyoya, I have always been aware of my place with you, you don't have to rush to protect my feelings" you place the book you were reading on the table between the two of you.

Silence falls between the two of you as you sigh. "Kyoya I am tired of this dance we do every time this comes up. We have known each other two years and we never talk about it. Not really"

"Could I get a word in please?" your slightly ajar mouth pulled itself shut at the question. "I thought when we spoke at the party that was us talking about it"

"I...we said at the party we would try...to make this work...and I am being patient but..." while you are too caught up trying to piece together the right words you didn't notice how Kyoya was hanging onto every one of those words.

"I never know...where I stand with you Kyoya...and the truth is I don't think you know either" Kyoya remains silent, debating whether it would be best to say something in defence or let you elaborate.

"I don't...I don't expect anything from you but just as i think i've figured out what we are something will happen and I'm back to square one." you look away, staring back out into the ocean not wanting to bear to see his reaction.

"We are engaged but we are not together, we hang out and as far as I'm aware I am the person you talk to the most but we aren't friends..." it is in this moment that Kyoya wishes that he was better at bringing himself to express any form of emotion.

"I didn't...know you felt that way" was what ends up coming out instead. "Please don't say it like that" you plead, regretting bringing this up in the first place, taking a sip of your drink.

Kyoya is stunned "Like what?"

"With pity, I am aware of my position, and you are aware of yours, we fulfill the agreement our fathers made only enough but it is strange because of that exact arrangement we have decided that it would be for the best that things are only one way or another"

"We have responsibilities"

"Yes we do, but you seem to forget that you can do more than just your responsibilities. Why do you think you are here?" you gesture out to the rest of the host club.

"Y/n if you are saying what I think you are you do not want to go there" You raise an eyebrow "Do I not? Because the truth is I don't know anything about you. I'd like to but I don't, not truly."

Kyoya's face falls, seemingly a flurry of realisations hitting him at once. "All I am saying is that we are going to be stuck together for a very long time, I just want to know what terms that time will be on"

"Help!" Haruhi's voice seemed to echo through the rocky outskirts of the bay. You shoot up, completely forgetting the conversation that was just occurring, running in what you hope to be the direction of the cry.

as you turn around the rocks, quickly realising that the other club members are following behind you, but that isn't what you are worried about, no you are worried by the group of guys who currently are cornering haruhi. "Get the hell away from her!" you yell out.

"Ah good another one" the guy whose hand was wrapped around Haruhi's wrist says at your presence, not seeming intimidated in the slightest. "Yeah, now get away from her" You yank his hand off of her, wrist, however in the process he grabs onto yours instead, in an instinctual response you knee him in the crotch, throwing him off you.

"Get away from them!" Honey's voice rings out, tackling them, Mori as well. they just about manage to get out enough to run away, you manage to dodge out of the way in time to miss the onslaught, accidentally stepping backwards into Kyoya.

"Are you okay?" he asks, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilise you. "Fine."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It's dark out, the host club have retired to Kyoya's family's beach house for the night. Kyoya is pacing the room as he is on the phone to his police force while you are sat on his bed watching him ramble on. He eventually sighs as he hangs up the phone.

"The girls are all safely at the hotel, they are tracking down what is left of those guys" You nod "Good"

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks for probably the third time since the incident. "Yes I am fine, I know the whole 'duty of care' bullshit and that you probably got asked about me over the phone but I am fine"

"Forgive me for checking on someone who is known to avoid doctors" He mutters, placing the phone on the desk. "What you did was risky"

"Haruhi was in trouble" You sat firm in your position, having no regrets on your decision despite the backlash you had received from the host club after the incident. "Yes however there were much safer ways to handle it than just throwing yourself into the situation, you're not martial arts trained like Honey or Mori"

"Haruhi was in trouble then, what did you expect me to do, wait? Kyoya she could have been seriously hurt if i did that"

"You could have been seriously hurt!"

The outburst came as a shock to you, jaw hanging open for a moment before slowly picking itself up. "I am fine"

"Yes but you could have very easily may not have been"

Kyoya has a certain intensity to him that you do not see often at all from him, your mouth hinges close in shock. "You want to know what we are y/n? The truth is I don't even know the answer but what I do know is that you cannot do stuff like that"

You could practically hear the heart palpitations in your chest, you and Kyoya stare at each other from across the room, part of you was frustrated with him. Not getting anywhere with him apparently.

On the other hand there was a familiar feeling that you recognise from a moment of closeness the two of you had in the classroom when investigating shiro.

In the wake of your silence Kyoya sighs. "I...You are right, I do have a 'persona' or whatever you want to call it, but I can't just...drop it, it has become second nature to me now...please just...be patient with me"

There's a level of vunerability in his words that is unlike anything you had ever heard from him before. You stand up, approaching him slowly while not taking your eyes off of him, sighing as you stand less than a foot away from him "I can be patient...I just need to know that I'm not the only one trying to make this work"

Thunder cracked in the background but the two of you didn't seem to take any mind. "I..." Kyoya was hesitant with his words "You aren't...the only one..." You nod, happy to finally get confirmation but now unsure of what to do or say next.

However you do not need to make that decision, as an almost electric, feather light touch brushes your hand, a finger wraps around yours, interlocking.

"Patience?"

"Patience."

Next time on patience 'A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28

#kyoya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #ohshc #kyoya x reader #ohshc kyoya #ohshc x reader #ouran high school host club #ouran highschool host club #ouran host club #ouran hshc #kaoru hitachiin #ouran #ouran kyoya #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh

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thebunnednun · 2 months ago

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"EAT YER SOUP!" part.2

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Husband!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro hero!Wife!Reader

Warning: MDNI!!! Extreme Flirting , Wc: Long like his truama+, No ageless blogs!

Synopsis: A snowball fight escalates into a dramatic battle for the icy throne between the, "Snow Empress," and the, "Demon King," of class 1a and ending with you becoming sick and Katsuki taking care of his sweet little Wife.

Tons of romantic flirting, promises of fun and sexy times awaits. Reader has a quirk.

Ya like Jane Austen? You'll love this.

Part 2 of 2.

“Gotcha, Empress!”

Katsuki purrs as he yanks you out of the tube.

You barely have time to register what’s happening before instinct takes over.

Twisting in his grasp, you shoot a blast of snow from your palms directly into his face. He stumbles backward with a loud, disgruntled, “FUCK!,” releasing you just enough for you to lose your balance.

You feel the icy structure under your feet slip away, gravity pulling you toward the ground below. But then, just as suddenly, his hand shoots out again—hot, calloused fingers curling around your wrist, yanking you firmly back into his grasp.

“Damn it, lady!” Katsuki grunts, stumbling from the momentum. You both crash down together in a heap of tangled limbs inside the tube, the tight space forcing you into an awkward but oddly secure position.

Your head is tucked against his chest, and you realize with a startled flush that he’s holding you like you’re made of glass. His right hand cradles the back of your head, shielding it from the cold, unyielding surface of the plastic. His legs are splayed out, braced against the sides of the tube to cushion your fall, while his left arm is wrapped snugly around your waist, keeping you steady and close.

For a moment, neither of you says a word, the only sounds are the faint laughter and concerned murmurs of your friends outside, muffled by the igloo walls. It’s quiet in here—warm, even, despite the cold air trapped in the tube.

Then Katsuki shifts slightly, muttering a gruff, “Here.”

You tilt your head, trying to look up at him in the darkness. It’s hard to see much, but you catch a glimpse of something familiar—a flash of cherry red.

Your robe.

He’s got it wrapped around one of his hands, and with surprising gentleness, he drapes it over your shoulders, pulling it snugly around you. You blink, momentarily stunned.

“Is… Is this part of your plan to catch me?”

“Shut up,” he snaps, though there’s no heat in his voice. “You’re gonna get sick running around in your damn underwear like that.” You scoff lightly, though there’s a warmth blooming in your chest that has nothing to do with the robe. “I’m not going to get sick,” you argue. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Katsuki’s grip on you tightens just a fraction. “Yeah, well, ’m not the psycho who stripped down to their socks in the middle of a fight,” he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You grin, unable to resist teasing him.

“Did that bother you?”

His hand slides down to your hip, squeezing the soft spot there that you know he loves. “’s there to bother me?” he counters smoothly, though there’s a dangerous edge of possessiveness in his tone.

“At the end of the day, yer all mine.”

Your smile softens as you hum quietly, the tension in your body melting away. You dust some stray snow off his shoulder and settle your head more comfortably against his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring thrum of his heartbeat.

“Hmm,” you murmur, snuggling into his warmth despite the awkward position. “So… what do we do now?”

Katsuki’s chest rumbles beneath your cheek as he exhales deeply. His fingers trace idle patterns on your lower back, the gesture so tender.

“We wait,” he says finally, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant. “Wait for you to stop acting like a crazy-ass queen, or wait for me to figure out how to kick your ass in here without breakin’ this damn tube.”

You laugh softly, the sound muffled against his chest. “Or,” you suggest, your tone playful, “We could just call it a truce.”

He snorts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “A truce? After all that shit talk? Not a chance.”

Despite his words, he doesn’t make a move to push you away, and you don’t make any effort to pull back. Instead, you both lie there, tangled together in the confined space, the world outside forgotten.

It’s so nice.

The cold bites at your exposed skin, but it feels distant now—an afterthought, dulled by the warmth radiating from Katsuki. His touch is slow and deliberate, his hands heating slightly as they glide across your back, over the curve of your back, and along your arms. The sensation is heavenly, like stepping out of a steaming bath and being wrapped in a freshly-warmed towel, soft and comforting.

He’s done that for you before, countless times, but now it feels different. More intimate. The rough pads of his fingers, usually calloused from years of training, are surprisingly gentle as they trail over your skin, thawing the cold little by little.

You shiver, though not from the chill.

“Stay still, Empress,” Katsuki murmurs, his voice low and smooth, laced with a teasing edge. His warm breath ghosts over the top of your head, carrying the faint but familiar scent of mint and caramel. “Can’t have ya turnin’ into an ice cube on me.”

Before you can respond, you feel his lips press against the crown of your head, soft and lingering. It’s so tender, so unlike the fiery, brash public persona you’ve come to love, that your heart skips a beat.

Then, he tilts your head back, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. His gaze flickers over your face, taking in every detail—your frozen cheeks, your trembling lips, the soft rise and fall of your breath. He leans in and brushes his lips against the tip of your frozen nose, the warmth of his mouth shocking against the cold.

“Such a pain in my ass,” he murmurs in that old tongue, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and affection.

“Running around half-naked, challenging me like you’ve got a chance.”

His words make you bristle, but before you can retort, he kisses your cheek, soft and warm, before trailing his lips down to your jawline. The gentle nips he delivers there make your breath hitch, and you feel the curve of his smirk against your skin.

“But damn, if you’re not the prettiest little thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he continues, his voice dropping into a husky whisper as he presses his lips to the sensitive spot beneath your jaw.

“Even when you’re being a stubborn, reckless brat.”

You scoff, but it comes out weaker than you’d like, especially when his lips skim over the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. His hands slide over your shoulders, his thumbs brushing along the bare skin exposed by your earlier stunt.

“You are mine,” he murmurs, his voice soft yet firm, a quiet declaration that sends a shiver down your spine. His breath fans against your collarbone as he plants another kiss there, and you can feel his smirk deepening.

“Every. Damn. Inch.”

Despite his teasing, there’s a reverence in his touch, a quiet adoration in the way his fingers trace the curve of your shoulder, the line of your neck. He’s worshiping you, in his own Katsuki way—praising you even as he mocks you.

“You really thought you could beat me with this little stunt?” he whispers, his warm lips brushing against the shell of your ear now, his tone equal parts amused and affectionate.

“Cute.”

You let out a soft huff, trying to maintain your composure despite the way he’s unraveling you with every kiss, every word. “I’m still standing, aren’t I?” you manage, your voice just as curt as his earlier tone.

His chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin. “Barely,” he shoots back, his lips finding the curve of your shoulder again. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

Katsuki pauses for a moment, his hands stilling on your back as he tilts your head up to meet his gaze. His crimson eyes soften, and for just a moment, the teasing fades, replaced by something deeper, something raw.

“But you’re also a damn idiot,” he mutters, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “I’m supposed to protect you, you know? Even from yourself.”

You blink up at him, stunned by the sudden tenderness in his voice. Before you can respond, he leans down and kisses you again, this time on your lips. It’s not fiery or rushed—it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment.

Like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t put into words into that one kiss.

When he finally pulls back, his smirk returns, though it’s softer now, less cocky. “There,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a near whisper. “All warmed up, Princess?”

You hum, leaning into him, your head resting against his chest once more. “For now,” you murmur, feeling his arms tighten around you.

The snow outside may be cold, but here, in his arms, you’ve never felt warmer.

You shift slightly in Katsuki's hold, your cheek pressed against his as his arms remain firmly wrapped around you. He’s warm, almost blazing against the cold, and it’s easy to let yourself sink into the security of his touch. But you’re not done with him yet. He wanted to play games earlier, and so can you.

Tilting your head up, you look at him, your expression softening as you press a cold kiss to the underside of his jaw. He stiffens slightly, the contrast of your chilled lips on his hot skin sending a shiver through him. You smirk at his reaction, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck as you plant another kiss along his jawline, slower this time.

“Why so grumpy, Suki?” you murmur against his skin, your voice low and teasing, just enough to tickle. “You’ve been rough with everyone all day. What’s gotten into you?”

His ruby eyes narrow as he glances down at you, suspicion flickering in his gaze. “Don’t start, Peach,” he warns, though his voice lacks its usual bite. You feign innocence, batting your lashes up at him as you press yourself closer, your fingers trailing along the edge of his collar.

“Start what?” you ask sweetly, your lips curving into a sly smile.

“I’m just worried about you, my scary Demon King. You’ve been acting so... mean.”

He snorts, his grip tightening slightly on your waist. “Yer playing dirty,” he mutters, his eyes flickering to your lips before snapping back to your gaze.

“Dirty?” you echo, gasping theatrically as you tilt your head to the side, your cold nose brushing against his cheek. “I’d never. I’m just trying to understand why my handsome grumpy husband has been acting like he’s got a stick up his—”

“Careful,” he growls, cutting you off, but there’s a hint of amusement in his tone now.

You grin, leaning up to whisper against his ear, your lips brushing against the shell.

“Oh, am I pressing your buttons? How unlike me.”

His breath hitches slightly, but he masks it with a scoff.

“You think yer so funny, don’t you?”

“I think you’re adorable,” you counter, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, your own sparkling with mischief.

“All this aggressive ‘playtime,’ and for what? Because you don’t know how to talk to your friends?”

That gets a reaction.

His eyes narrow, and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“Let me guess,” you continue, your tone softening as your hand comes up to cup his cheek. “You want their company, but instead of asking like a normal person, you blow up and act like a big scary Demon King. But you’re not, Katsuki. Not really.”

His gaze hardens, but you press on, your thumb brushing against his lips. “Right now, I don’t see some fearsome tyrant ruling over his snowy kingdom. No,” you say, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a near whisper,

“I see a man who’s too afraid to ask for what he wants.”

His grip on you falters for a moment, and you can feel the tension in his body as your words sink in. He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay, you know,” you murmur, your lips brushing against his as you speak. “You don’t have to keep shutting everyone out. They’re your friends, Katsuki. They love you. We love you.”

For a moment, he says nothing, his crimson eyes searching yours as if trying to find a way to argue. But instead of snapping back, he lets out a soft, frustrated sigh, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

“Such a pain,” he mutters, his voice rough but quieter now.

You smile, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“And you love me for it,~” you tease, your voice light.

His lips twitch into a faint smirk, and he leans in, his nose brushing against yours. “Fuck yeah, I do,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one that melts away the cold and reminds you of the fire that’s always burning in him—passionate, intense, and fiercely loyal.

It’s a kiss that speaks of more than words ever could, and for now, it’s enough to distract you.

“Have either of you won yet?! This is supposed to be a timed competition!”

You both hear Iida’s voice echoing through the training grounds, a mixture of authority and exasperation as he shouts. Katsuki scoffs, his crimson eyes narrowing as he glares at the tube he’s stuck in. “Like hell I’m letting you ruin this,” he growls, his voice dripping with determination. Then his gaze flicks to you.

“What do you wanna do, huh?”

You smirk, a spark of mischief flashing across your face.

“I wanna see if you really think you can beat me.”

He barks a short laugh. “Tch, bring it on.”

Nodding, you crawl over him, careful not to get stuck yourself. Once you’re free, you reach down, grabbing onto his arms and tugging as hard as you can. He grits his teeth, curses flying out of his mouth, and with one final heave, there’s a loud pop! as he’s yanked free.

“’Bout damn time!” he snaps, but you’re already sprinting into the darkness, your laughter echoing in the icy air.

“Catch me if ya can, Dynamight!” you call over your shoulder, waving as you vanish into the snow.

Katsuki mutters a string of expletives, his boots crunching as he gives chase. You dive into the snow, letting it swallow you whole as you melt seamlessly into its icy embrace. Watching from your hidden vantage point, you see him searching for you, his eyes scanning the terrain.

Suddenly, you reappear, popping up a few feet in front of him.

“Hey, want to go for a swim?” you ask with a grin, your hands already glowing faintly.

“What the hell are you—” he starts, but then you flash your hands and a wave of icy energy radiates outward.

The snow around you begins to melt, transforming into water as ice walls rise up, trapping the two of you and a handful of benches. The area quickly fills like a giant tub, the cold breeze coming off the water enough to make everyone shiver.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” Katsuki yells, his palms already sparking as he blasts at the ice walls, trying to escape. You dart through the water, grabbing onto his boots before he can blast his way out. “Oh no, you don’t!” you laugh, yanking him under.

The two of you wrestle in the frigid water, your punches landing on his chest with satisfying thuds. Of course, his solid frame doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, which only makes you more determined.

As you’re grappling, the sky above suddenly darkens, heavy clouds rolling in. Snowflakes begin to fall, thick and fast. But this snow… it’s not yours.

“What the…?” you mutter, glancing up.

Katsuki notices too, his expression shifting from irritation to confusion. “What’re you laughin’ about, dumbass?” he growls as you giggle.

“Looks like even nature’s on my side,” you taunt, sticking your tongue out at him. Katsuki’s lips twitch, and then he’s laughing too, a wild, competitive sound that echoes in the icy dome. He raises one gloved hand to cover the left side of his face as he mouths to you,

“I’ma play your ass like the drums when ‘m done!”

He charges at you, but you summon an army of snow creatures, their icy forms springing up around you like loyal soldiers.

“That’s cheating!” he roars, blasting through the nearest snowman with ease.

“Kiss my ass, Kats!~” you shout back, diving under the snow before he can grab you.

The chaos is exhilarating—snow flying everywhere, the water splashing wildly, your classmates shouting from the sidelines as they cheer you on. You’re so caught up in the fun that you don’t notice it at first—the loud, ominous crack that echoes through the arena.

It’s only when Katsuki freezes, his eyes darting to the ice dam behind you, that your stomach drops.

The structure is splintering, fractures snaking across its surface as water begins to seep through. Katsuki’s heat combined with the pressure of the water—it’s all too much.

“Shit,” you breathe, your heart pounding. Katsuki’s eyes lock onto yours, and he yells,

“MOVE!”

But you’re already spinning around, the sound of the ice giving way roaring in your ears as the dam begins to collapse. The massive wave of water surges forward, unstoppable and icy cold, pushing everything out and rushing a wall of ice straight toward you.

Suddenly, a burst of heat slams into your back. Before you can process what’s happening, a strong arm wraps around your waist and pulls you down, just as the dam bursts, water cascading like a tidal wave.

You brace for impact, but instead of icy water swallowing you whole, you feel warmth—familiar and searing—surrounding you. Katsuki is on top of you, shielding your body from the chaos with his own. His heat crackles in the air, steam rising as his explosions counter the freezing onslaught.

“Damn it,” he growls, his voice low and rough, his breath hot against your ear.

“Are you tryin' to get yourself killed, you cracked nut?!”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, there’s another surge of heat—this time coming from behind you both. Katsuki rolls the two of you to the side just as a thick, fiery wall erupts, blocking the remaining water. Shoto stands there, his dual quirks in full display, steam curling off his hands as he pushes the wave back with calculated precision.

When the chaos subsides, you find yourself kinda laying on the cold, damp ground, still held Katsuki’s arms. He’s breathing hard, his hair plastered to his forehead, his crimson eyes blazing with frustration and something else.

“You’re insane,” he mutters, his hands still on your waist, as if he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re over reacting,” you shoot back, your voice laced with teasing, even though your heart is racing.

“OVER REACTING?!” His voice rises, and you can see his hands twitch, barely holding back an explosion.

“Ya almost got us both killed, and you think this is funny?!”

Shoto steps closer, crossing his arms as he surveys the scene. “You two seem to have a habit of turning simple fun into near-death experiences,” he comments dryly, a hint of amusement in his otherwise stoic tone. You glance at him with a grin.

“It’s called marriage, Sho. Look it up.” You see your brother smile but he tilts his head in that curious way leading you to follow his line of sight to the man pinned underneath you.

Katsuki is livid.

Not the kind of angry that makes him shout—no, this was the simmering, teeth-gritting kind of fury, the one that burned hotter than his explosions ever could. His chest rose and fell beneath you as his ruby-red eyes locked onto yours. His whole face was flushed—whether from the cold, the embarrassment of you straddling him in front of your classmates, or the adrenaline of saving you, you weren’t entirely sure. But one thing was crystal clear:

Ya mans is pisssssed!

“You—” His voice was low and guttural, barely above a growl. His hands gripped your waist instinctively, either to steady you or to hold you in place—probably both.

“You reckless little—”

“You’re welcome,” you cut in smoothly, leaning forward with a grin that you knew would only rile him up further. Your hands braced themselves on his broad shoulders as you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What? No thank-you for saving your ass from being bored?”

He scoffed, the sound laced with frustration as his fingers dug lightly into your sides. “My ass? You nearly drowned us both, you lunatic!”

“Drowned?” you echoed, laughing softly. “Please. You know water doesn’t bother me, and you wouldn’t drown if you tried. You’re too stubborn to die.”

“Not the point!” he barked, sitting up straighter so that your faces were mere inches apart. “You don’t think—”

“And you are simply thinking too much, Katsuki,” you shot back, pressing a ice cold finger against his cheek, just over the scrape from earlier.

“See? Perfect balance.”

His jaw clenched as you rubbed the spot absentmindedly, and for a moment, he just stared at you. His hands, still on your waist, twitched as though he was debating whether to shove you off or pull you closer. You could almost see the internal struggle playing out in his head, but before he could make a decision, Iida’s stern voice broke through the charged air.

“Midoriya! Shoji! Someone help me separate these two before they start another battle!”

The cacophony of voices surrounded you as Iida and Shoji rushed over, their hurried steps crunching against the frost-covered ground. Shoto, still exuding heat from his fire quirk, stood a few feet away with an unreadable expression. You and Katsuki sit tangled on the wet ground near the bleachers, your legs straddling over his hips as he tries to simultaneously catch his breath and glare daggers at everything and everyone around him. His crimson eyes darted to you, his cheeks flushed—not just from exertion or the cold but from the mortifyingly public position you’d landed in.

His voice was a low growl, barely audible over the commotion.

“Get off me, princess.”

But there wasn’t as much heat in his words as there usually was. You smirked, leaning forward just enough to invade his personal space. “But you look so comfy,” you teased, your hands braced against his chest. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, quick and strong.

“What’s wrong?~ Too flustered to admit I won?”

Before he could spit out one of his scathing remarks, Iida cleared his throat, his voice booming as he declared, “Both participants are officially out of bounds! However—” his hand gestured with the precision of a referee,

“Katsuki’s head crossed the line first, meaning the winner is our Empress!”

The collective cheers from your classmates rose into the frosty air. Izuku clapped his hands, his smile practically glowing. “You did it!” he exclaimed, his excitement infectious as he bounded closer.

Your classmates swarm the scene, a mix of laughter and concern. Mina is practically doubled over, wheezing from laughing too hard. Kirishima pats Shoto on the back, though he looks like he’s trying not to laugh himself.

“Yo, Bakugo,” Kaminari says with a grin, “You good there, man? Looks like she’s got you pinned.”

“Shut your damn mouth, Pikachu!” Katsuki roars, finally shoving you off his lap as he gets to his feet, his entire face red—not from the cold, but pure, unadulterated embarrassment.

The sound of your friends’ laughter and teasing chants pulls you out of your little bubble. Mina was cackling, Sero was nudging Kaminari and whispering something that made both of them grin, and Shoto stood nearby, arms crossed as Shinsou rested an elbow on him. His expression was as cool as ever, but his raised brow said: ‘Why is this fool touching me?’

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” you said lightly, smirking as you slid off Katsuki’s lap (pity) and onto the ground beside him. He immediately stood, brushing snow and water from his clothes with a grumble, and shot a glare at anyone brave enough to look his way.

“And what the hell are you all looking at?!” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to send Kaminari and Sero scurrying off to pretend they hadn’t been watching. You stood as well, brushing yourself off and turning to address the group. With a playful grin, you held your hands up.

“Alright, alright, listen up! I’m calling it. Katsuki’s been properly defeated by yours truly!”

“Not a chance,” Katsuki growled, stepping closer so his shoulder brushed against yours.

“I wasn’t done with you yet.”

“Oh, I think you were,” you tease, glancing up at him with a cheeky smile. “And besides, Iida said your head crossed the line first. Therefore….” You pause for dramatic effect as you push your wet hair from your forehead.

“I win!”

You dust yourself off, standing and giving a dramatic bow to your friends. “And that, my dear friends, is how you win a fight against the mighty Katsuki Bakugou!”

“Win?! Like hell you did!” Katsuki snaps, but his protests are drowned out by the screams and laughter of your friends. The group cheered, and you saw Katsuki’s eye twitch, though he didn’t argue further. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, his scowl deepening as Izuku approached, beaming.

“Congratulations! That was incredible fighting, though! You two really—”

“Shut it, nerd,” Katsuki muttered, turning away, though his ears were still red. You reached up to give his cheek a teasing pat, earning a glare in return.

“Aww, don’t be so grumpy, Katsuki. Everyone’s just happy to see their favorite Demon King and Snow Empress putting on such a good show.”

“Keep calling me that, and you’re gonna wish you drowned,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upward. As the group dispersed, laughing and chatting about the chaos you’d caused, Katsuki leaned closer to you, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Next time, I’m not letting you get away with pulling that shit. Got it?”

You grinned, leaning up on your toes to press a quick, cold kiss to his lips before darting away.

“We’ll see, Suki. Better luck next time!”

Katsuki grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Crazy girl,” but when his eyes met yours, he didn’t deny it. Instead, he gave the smallest nod, as if to concede the point—begrudgingly, of course. You stood, brushing the snow from your clothes before holding your hands up to silence the crowd. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but the warmth of victory—and Katsuki’s heated gaze��kept you steady.

“Alright, alright, listen up!” you called, your voice carrying over the noise.

“While I know Katsuki’s... ‘methods’ today might have been a little much—”

“A little?” Shinsou interrupted, arching a brow from where he stood near the sidelines. You shot him a warning glare, an ice ball already forming in your hand.

“Don’t interrupt me, or else I shall make sure you end up in the ice next time,” you said, your tone deceptively sweet.

He wisely shut up, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips. Turning back to the group, you continued,

“As I was saying, Katsuki just wanted to play with everyone. He’s not the best at showing it—” you glanced at him, and he scoffed, crossing his arms as if to deflect the attention—“But he privately expressed his regrets, and I think if he says he’s sorry, we should all forgive him. After all,” you added with a grin,

“He did save your Empress from the flood, didn’t he?”

There was a pause before Shoto, standing just behind you, said dryly,

“I think that’s letting him off easy, dear sister.”

You smiled, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Forgiveness is one of my virtues as your Empress, kind prince. Maybe you should try it.” Before Shoto could respond, Shinsou piped up again.

“Yeah? Where were those virtues when Katsuki nearly blew Shoto up earlier?”

Without missing a beat, you hurled the ice ball straight at his face, nailing him squarely in the forehead.

“I warned you not to try me, Hitoshi,” you clipped, your tone light but with enough edge to make him hold his hands up in surrender, albeit with a chuckle. The laughter subsided as your gaze softened. You turned toward Katsuki, instinctively reaching out to brush your fingers over the scrape on his cheek. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing again, his jaw tightening as he muttered, “I’m fine. Quit fussing.”

But he didn’t pull away.

The moment lingered, the group falling silent as they watched the two of you. Katsuki’s hand hovered near yours for a moment before he dropped it to his lap, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

“Well?” you prompted, raising a brow at him. “Don’t you have something to say?”

His glare swept over the group, daring anyone to speak before he finally muttered,

“Tch… Sorry.”

The reaction was immediate—cheers and laughter erupted, your classmates all grinning as they accepted his rare apology. Kirishima clapped him on the back, earning a string of curses in return, while Mina leaned into Sero, whispering loudly about how “cute” the whole thing was.

You grinned, raising your arms in victory. “See? All forgiven!”

Katsuki groaned, burying his face in his scarf. “Yer all idiots, ‘m fucking surrounded,” he muttered, though the faintest of smirks tugged at his lips. And just like that, the chaos returned, laughter and playful banter filling the air once more. Your husband might be grumpy, but you knew Kats wouldn’t have it any other way—

And neither would you.

Sato, Aoyama, and Tokoyami raise their voices dramatically, calling for cheers to echo across the snowy battlefield for, “The Snow Empress.” Your classmates burst into applause, whoops, and laughter as the victorious mood spreads. You wave to your ‘subjects’ with an exaggerated regal flair, their joyous energy lifting the weight of the icy battle you’d just survived.

A soft crown of snow builds itself upon your hair, the delicate flakes kissing your cheeks and remaining in perfect crystalline patterns on the bone. Ice glitters like tiny diamonds along your exposed neck as you fidget, pulling your cherry red robe tighter around your shoulders. The contrast of its vibrant hue against the snowy backdrop makes you appear otherworldly, even as you shift in place, your furry Juicy Couture baby pink boots sinking slightly into the frost beneath you.

You glance over at the bleachers where Shoto had folded your clothes neatly, retrieving them with careful hands. The snow glistens along the hem of your robe as you slip your white leggings back on, followed by the matching white sweater dress of your hero uniform. The soft fabric hugs you, a stark yet elegant complement to the winter wonderland surrounding you.

Katsuki watches, transfixed. His sharp vermillion eyes linger as your fingers tug at the chain tucked beneath your neckline, gently pulling it free. The glint of metal catches the light—your wedding ring. He sees the reverence in the way you slip it on, the tender care with which you give it a few deliberate turns to ensure it won’t accidentally fall off. It’s such a small act, but it anchors him, rooting him to the moment in a way that nothing else could.

You stretch, exhaling softly, and grab your scarf, gingerly wrapping it around your shoulders. The motion feels regal, every bit as graceful as you appear, your figure framed by the gentle cascade of snow. You look every inch a snow empress—fair, kind, just, and breathtakingly beautiful. Katsuki’s chest tightens as he watches you, his queen.

He doesn’t mind the biting cold, the flurry of snowflakes that dust his own hair, or even the distant sound of Class 1-A laughing and shouting as they play nearby. He doesn’t care about whatever apology he’s been made to give—it doesn’t matter, not when you’re here. As long as he has you, he thinks, everything else fades away.

You are his peace.

As everyone returns to playing in the snow, you feel Katsuki’s rough, calloused fingers slip into yours. He wordlessly pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders, the warmth and faint scent of burnt caramel enveloping you. Before you can thank him, he’s already tugging one of his gloves on your hand and adjusts it properly.

“Ya know somethin’,” you say softly, catching his attention. His crimson eyes dart to yours, confused but curious.

“‘Bout what?”

“About you speaking like you do in those romance novels you secretly read,” you tease, leaning closer. “I liked it. You should do it more often.” His ears turn red instantly, and his mouth opens to protest—but then he pauses, narrowing his eyes.

“…Really?”

“Mhm.”

You smile warmly, your voice dropping to a playful whisper.

“Truely, very sexy. I was so happy you indulged my games.”

Katsuki adjusts his scarf, clearly trying to cover his flustered expression. Without warning, he grabs your ungloved hand, shoves it deep into his warm pants pocket, and pulls you close enough that your noses nearly touch.

“‘Course I did,” he mutters, his voice gruff yet soft.

“Yer my wife. ‘m supposed to.”

You melt into his warmth, a contented smile spreading across your face as you snuggle against him. The moment feels peaceful—until you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve.

“Would you help me build a snowman?”

Shoto’s calm, steady voice cuts in. Katsuki scowls at him immediately, but before he can bark out a sarcastic retort, you nod, linking your other hand with Shoto’s.

“Of course! Let’s make the best snowman ever!” you declare, already feeling excitement bubbling up.

Shoto and Katsuki exchange a brief glance, and to your surprise, they share a small, almost imperceptible smile. Katsuki shakes his head and mutters something about how ridiculous this all is before letting you go. The three of you join the others, but as you kneel in the snow to start building, a strange sensation ripples through your body. You feel a tickle in your nose, but before you can react—

“Ack!-Achoo!”

A sudden burst of flame shoots out as you sneeze, singeing a patch of snow. At the same moment, Shoto lets out an equally loud sneeze, accidentally summoning a quick hailstorm that pelts everyone nearby. The two of you fall over, blinking rapidly at the chaos you’ve just caused. Kirishima jogs over, concern in his eyes as he asks,

“Are you guys okay?!”

You’re about to laugh it off when a heavy ominous aura rises behind you. Before you can turn around, you’re suddenly hoisted off the ground and tossed over Katsuki’s shoulder like a sack of flour.

“What the hell—?!” you yelp, flailing slightly.

With his other hand, Katsuki grabs the back of Shoto’s collar like he’s reprimanding a naughty puppy.

“THIS IS THE FUCKING SHIT I TALK ABOUT!” he yells, his voice echoing across the field.

Everyone bursts into laughter, even Shoto, who looks mildly dazed but surprisingly amused. Katsuki stomps away from the group with both of you in tow, ranting the whole way about,

“Fire quirks, Snow quirks, and dumbass pettiness that’ll kill someone one day.”

Through your laughter, you manage to gasp out,

“Katsuki! Put me down!”

“FUCK NO!”

—————

The soft hum of Divorce Court plays in the background as you sit curled up on the couch, surrounded by layers of blankets that feel like a protective cocoon. Beside you, a small trash bin is stuffed with tissues, the evidence of your persistent sneezes and sniffles. Two cups rest within arm’s reach on the side table—one filled with soda, the other with ice water—and the coffee table in front of you is covered with three bowls of chicken noodle soup, one spicy, one mild, and one piping hot. Despite the thoughtful variety, only two of them are fully eaten, the steam long since dissipated.

You yawn softly, snuggling deeper into your blankets, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment—until a warm, familiar weight wraps around your shoulders. A pair of strong arms encircle you, and a kiss is pressed to the crown of your head, soft but deliberate.

You know that touch anywhere.

Before you can even lift your head, Katsuki hops clean over the couch, landing next to you with a thud that makes the floor groan.

“I hate when you do that,” you grumble, your voice hoarse from your cold. “Kills the sectional cushions.”

“Yeah? Couch’ll live,” Katsuki mutters, leaning back and pulling you closer to him despite your complaints. His rough hand rubs gentle circles on your legs back through the blankets, his warmth seeping into you as he glances down at the coffee table. His vermillion eyes narrow when he notices your mostly untouched bowl of soup.

The living room glowed with a warm, golden hue, the soft crackle of the fireplace filling the quiet. The walls were adorned with framed photos—snapshots of your wedding day, candid moments from family dinners, and Katsuki’s rare, begrudging smiles caught on camera.

Plants in mismatched pots thrived on the windowsills and shelves, trailing vines and vibrant leaves spilling into the cozy space. The large sectional couch, well-worn but plush, was draped in layers of soft throws and knitted blankets, a sign of countless movie nights and lazy Sundays. The shelves were cluttered with life—books with broken spines, small trinkets from vacations, and a few All Might figurines Katsuki swore were for ‘inspiration’. It was a home that had been built and filled with love, laughter, (and the occasional shouting match.)

Katsuki sat on his usual cushion, his nose and cheeks still pink from the biting cold he’d endured earlier, the evidence of your storm clinging faintly to his skin. His ash-blond hair was messy from raking his fingers through it too many times, and he was dressed in his usual "at-home" lounge wear, a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms, (fucking tasty as shit), loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and mismatched socks—one gray, one with orange stripes.

So why the fuck he was focused on the bowl was beyond you.

His expression was torn somewhere between irritation and concern as he stared down at you, buried under what looked like every blanket in the house.

“Ya didn’t eat it?” he asked, his voice gruff but quieter than usual. His crimson eyes flicked to the bowl of soup sitting on the coffee table, steam no longer rising from it. His frown deepened as he picked it up, inspecting it like it had personally betrayed him.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, retreating further under the fortress of blankets. “I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Katsuki clicked his tongue, glaring at the soup as if it held the answers to all your problems. His hands glowed faintly as he warmed the bowl with practiced ease, steam curling up once more as he gave the soup a stir.

“You need to eat somethin’,” he said firmly, scooping up a spoonful and bringing it toward your face.

“Nooo,” you whined, burrowing deeper into the covers.

“I don’t wanna.”

“Stop bein’ a brat,” he growled, leaning closer and shoving the spoon just inches from your face.

“ ‘m not hungry!” Your voice was muffled, almost petulant, from beneath the layers.

Katsuki let out a long, exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yer impossible.” He muttered under his breath, but his tone lacked any real bite. Still, he didn’t give up. He set the bowl in his lap and tugged at the edge of your blankets, peeling them back just enough to reveal your face. Your cheeks were pale, your lips slightly chapped, and your eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. His gaze softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you.

“Just one bite,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing.

“C’mon, I made it just how you like it. For me, yeah?”

You peeked out from the blankets, meeting his crimson eyes. The warmth in his gaze was hard to ignore, but you still shook your head, stubborn to the end. Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his patience hanging by a thread.

“Alright, fine,” he huffed, shifting closer. “I didn’t wanna do this, but yer askin’ for it.”

He leaned down, brushing his nose lightly against yours, his breath warm on your face. You can see all his pretty freckles up close and you wanna kiss his eyelashes because damn it, the man looks so pretty. But, as if sensing your distraction, Katsuki raises one firm, very warm hand, up your leg, past your inner thighs and tummy, all the way to rest over your heart, the other hand still holding the bowl.

“Eat yer soup,” he murmured, his tone low, with a hint of something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please.”

You blinked up at him, the sudden shift in his tone making your resolve waver. His lips ghosted over your forehead, a lingering kiss pressing heat into your skin, and then he smirked against your temple.

“C’mon, sweet princess,” he whispered, voice dripping with a mix of affection and mischief.

“Be good for your king. Just a bite.”

With a dramatic sigh, you finally gave in, parting your lips slightly. Katsuki grinned triumphantly, scooping up a spoonful of soup and gently feeding it to you. The warmth spread through your body instantly, soothing your throat and melting away a sliver of your stubbornness.

“There,” he whispers, his smirk widening. “See? Told ya ’s good,” he mutters, scooping another bite.

You hummed softly, too tired to argue as you leaned into him, and Katsuki couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him. His queen—stubborn, infuriating, but his. And as long as you were safe and warm in his arms, he didn’t mind one bit.

“You’re so smug,” you tease, but this time, you don’t hide as he brings the spoon to your lips again.

“Damn right I am,” he replies, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before continuing his self-imposed mission of making sure you eat. You look up at Katsuki after swallowing another spoonful of soup, a playful glint in your tired eyes. “So,” you murmur, voice soft but teasing, “Did you have fun today?”

“Tch,” he grunts, leaning back slightly but keeping his legs planted firmly on the floor.

“I guess.”

You smile at his nonchalant tone, knowing full well he had a good time. “What was your favorite part, then?”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow slightly as he stares at you, but he doesn’t answer right away.

“Oh, I have to guess, huh?” you say with a mock sigh, tapping a finger against your chin dramatically. “Alright, was it the snowball fight? When Kaminari accidentally got a mouthful of slush because of you?”

He shakes his head.

“Okay, then it was when I got crowned the Snow Empress and made my beautiful kingdom?”

Another shake.

“Hmm, what about when we saw Kirishima try to eat one of the icicles and Shoto had to unfreeze his tongue?”

Katsuki snorts but still shakes his head no.

You list off a few more events; Shoto's sneeze hailstorm, your snowmen army, and even your little moment of chaos in the playground tube, but he remains silent, his smirk growing wider with each wrong guess.

“Alright, I give up!” you huff, throwing your hands up in exaggerated defeat.

“What was it?”

Instead of answering, Katsuki reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small bottle of medicine.

Your eyes go wide, and before he can say a word, you duck back into the blanket fortress.

“Nope! Not happening!”

“Oi!” Katsuki growls, his patience snapping. “Don’t start with this shit again!”

You hear the sound of the bottle hitting the coffee table and feel the cushions shift as he climbs onto the couch. A moment later, he’s straddling you, careful not to crush you under his weight as he traps you in place.

“Come out, or I swear—”

“No!” you yell, voice muffled by the blankets.

His rough hands reach down and start poking at your sides, tickling just enough to make you squirm. “You think you can hide from me, huh? You think I won’t win?” You squeal and try to wriggle away, but his hands follow you no matter where you twist or turn.

“And what’s this?” he says, his voice suddenly shifting into a dramatic, Shakespearean tone that makes you freeze. “Dost thou defy thy loyal knight? Thy loving husband who vows to protect thee from thine own stubbornness?”

You huff, peeking out just enough to glare at him. “You have some fucking nerve. Out here taking this too personally.” Katsuki glares back, though his tone stays playful.

“Damn right I am! Over my dead body am I not taking care of you, ya brat.” You pout, your lip jutting out slightly as you squint at him. Katsuki falters, his tough expression slipping just a bit as he fights the urge to grin.

“Don’t think yer off the hook,” he says, his voice gruff again. But his hand brushes lightly against your cheek, his thumb warm as it grazes your skin. “Now take the damn medicine, and I’ll let you sleep.”

“Promise?” you ask, your voice small but teasing.

He smirks, leaning down so his forehead almost touches yours. “Promise. But you pull this shit again, and I’m ticklin’ ya until you cry.”

With a reluctant sigh, you finally emerge from the blankets, and he holds up the medicine like a prize. You glare at him one last time before taking it, and he watches you with smug satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, planting a quick kiss on your forehead.

"Can you both not do that while I’m here?"

The monotone voice cuts through the cozy quiet of the room like a snowball hitting glass. You barely have time to blink before a heavy weight drops onto both you and Katsuki.

“Ugh!” Katsuki grunts, momentarily thrown off balance. He shifts to regain his footing on the couch, one hand bracing against the armrest while the other clamps around your waist to keep you steady.

You, however, are already reaching for the familiar intruder. “Shoto!” you gasp softly, pulling him closer and feeling the coolness of his skin beneath the blanket he dragged with him. “I thought you were sleeping on the chaise?”

Shoto huffs, his expression as stoic as ever, but there’s a slight pout in the way his brows knit together. It’s the look he always gets when he feels left out, though he’d never admit it outright.

“I was,” he replies flatly. “Until the two of you started… whatever this is.” His mismatched eyes glance pointedly at how close you and Katsuki are before settling back on you with a raised brow.

You sigh, brushing your hand across his forehead to check his temperature. His skin feels a little warmer than it should, and you frown. “Sho, you should be resting,” you say softly, your tone shifting to that familiar, soothing one you always use with him.

Katsuki, however, is not so gentle. “The hell is your problem?” he snaps, glaring at Shoto while trying to shove him off. “This is my damn house, and she’s my wife! Go cling to someone else, Half-and-Half!”

Shoto doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he tilts his head slightly and deadpans, “She’s also my twin sister. I have just as much a right to her attention as you do. More, actually. I’ve known her longer.”

Katsuki sputters, his eyes widening in outrage.

“You—! That’s not how this works, you icy little—”

“Enough,” you interrupt, shooting Katsuki a warning look before turning your attention back to Shoto. “Sho, you need to take your medicine.” Shoto grimaces, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“I don’t desire to.”

“Shoto,” you say firmly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re not going to get better if you don’t take it.”

He doesn’t budge, crossing his arms over his chest like a stubborn child.

You sigh, your patience wearing thin. “Fine,” you say, glancing over at Katsuki with a small, mischievous smirk.

“I’ll just let Katsuki give you the medicine.”

Both men freeze.

Shoto turns his head slowly, his expression shifting from stubborn to wary as he locks eyes with Katsuki. The blond’s crimson gaze gleams with dangerous amusement, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You wouldn’t,” Shoto says, his voice low but edged with uncertainty.

“Oh, I absolutely would,” you reply sweetly, sitting back to watch the scene unfold.

For a moment, it’s a silent standoff. Shoto narrows his eyes, and Katsuki cracks his knuckles. Then, before either of you can react, Shoto grabs the bottle of medicine, pops the lid off, and tips it back in one smooth motion.

“Shotooo!” you yell, lunging forward as the bottle tips higher, a waterfall of liquid medicine pouring straight into his mouth. He pulls it away with a slight wince, the bitter taste evident in the way his nose scrunches.

“There,” he says flatly, handing you the now half-empty bottle. “Happy?”

Katsuki stares at him, his jaw hanging open in disbelief. “What the actual hell is wrong with you?”

You groan, placing the bottle on the table before grabbing Shoto’s face in both hands. “You’re supposed to take a measured dose, not half the bottle! Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“I didn’t want him to give it to me,” Shoto replies simply, casting a side-eye at Katsuki, who looks like he’s about to explode.

“You icy bastard—”

“Katsuki!” you snap, cutting him off before he can launch into another tirade. You shake your head, exasperated, and turn back to Shoto. “Next time, just let me handle it, okay?”

Shoto gives a small nod, looking mildly chastised but not entirely regretful. You sigh and wrap the blanket tighter around him, muttering something about stubborn men under your breath. Katsuki grumbles, crossing his arms as he watches you fuss over Shoto. “Unbelievable,” he mutters.

“Yea, but you love us,~” you tease, leaning back against him with a tired smile.

He huffs but doesn’t argue, pulling you closer while keeping one eye on Shoto.

You guide Katsuki to lay back against the center of the couch, his frame sinking into the plush cushions as his warmth radiates outward. He settles in with a low grumble, but the corner of his mouth twitches in a hint of a smile when you move to your usual spot, draping yourself across his chest. Your head comes to rest just over his heart, the steady, strong beat beneath you both grounding and soothing.

Shoto, ever observant and quietly calculating, watches the scene unfold from his perch at the edge of the couch. His mismatched eyes flick to the other side of Katsuki's chest, and after a moment of contemplation, he decides it’s the most practical place for him to claim. Without a word, he shifts closer and wraps an arm securely around your waist, resting his head against the opposite side of Katsuki's broad frame.

Katsuki tenses for a second, glancing down at the both of you with a furrowed brow. “What the hell is this?” he mutters, his voice gruff but lacking any real bite.

“Shh,” you whisper, your voice soft and teasing as you pat his chest. “Just let it happen.”

He grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘wonder twins’ but ultimately relents, his hand instinctively finding its way to rest on your back as he lets out a resigned sigh.

The room settles into a comfortable quiet, the only sounds are the faint hum of the television and the occasional rustle of snow outside. You begin to trace absentminded patterns along Katsuki’s arm, your fingers trailing over the defined muscles and the faded scars scattered across his skin. He doesn’t pull away, allowing you this small indulgence as his breathing evens out.

You lift his hand to your lips, brushing a series of soft kisses along each fingertip. His calloused skin feels rough against your mouth, a stark contrast to the gentleness of your actions. Katsuki watches you through hooded eyes, his expression unreadable but his heart thudding a little harder beneath your cheek.

When you glance up at him, he snorts softly. “Yer weird,” he mutters, but there’s no heat to the words.

“And yet, you married me,” you shoot back with a grin, placing one final kiss on his thumb before he captures your hand in his. He intertwines your fingers with his own, his grip firm but tender, and brings your joined hands to his lips. His mouth brushes over your knuckles, lingering there for just a moment before he lowers them back down to rest on his chest.

“Don’t go fallin’ asleep without me,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough in your ear. The timbre of it sends a shiver down your spine, and you glance up to find him staring at you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply softly, your smile warm as you press closer against him.

Shoto shifts beside you, his arm tightening slightly around your waist as he adjusts his position. He lets out a small, contented sigh, and you feel the tension in your body melt away as you relax fully into Katsuki’s frame. You toy with his hand a little longer, tracing the lines of his palm and pressing playful kisses along his knuckles while his free hand idly strokes your back. Eventually, his voice cuts through the quiet once more, softer this time.

“Yer somethin’ else, ya know that?”

“Mm,” you hum, already drifting on the edge of sleep. “And you love me for it.”

“Yes,” he admits quietly, his lips brushing against your hair as he adds, “Damn right I do.”

Shoto doesn’t say anything, but the slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth says enough. With you snugly sandwiched between them, the three of you find a peace that feels as natural as breathing. Katsuki's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm beneath your cheek, the weight of his hand resting comfortably against your back. He’s close to drifting off, but the small tug at his shirt is enough to make him stir.

He opens one eye, crimson and groggy, to glance down at you.

“What now?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough from sleep. You tilt your head up, resting your chin on his chest as you look at him with a curious smile.

“You never told me what your favorite part of the day was.”

His brow furrows slightly, and he gives you a long, unreadable look. “Hah?”

“You know,” you continue, your voice soft as you idly trace circles on his chest. “We did a lot today. What was your favorite part?”

He closes his eye again and exhales deeply through his nose, as if debating whether or not to entertain your question. His hand tightens slightly on your back, a subtle gesture of affection even as he pretends to be annoyed.

“I’m serious,” you insist, nudging him lightly. “Come on, tell me!”

Katsuki cuts you off with a low, tired groan.

“You don’t shut up, do ya?”

“No, she doesn’t—Ow!”

You retracted your foot from a certain brother's shin and pout, tugging at his tank top again.

“Kat-su-ki.”

His eye cracks open once more, and he stares at you for a long moment, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he’s fighting a smile. Finally, he huffs out a breath and mutters, “Ya really wanna know?”

You nod eagerly, your eyes bright with anticipation as Katsuki looks you over.

You are his best friend, his partner, his whole damn world.

The one person who could understand him in ways no one else ever could. The one who had seen him at his worst—furious, frustrated, broken—and stood by him anyway, never flinching, never turning away. There wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for you, no mountain he wouldn’t climb, no fight he wouldn’t take on if it meant keeping you safe and happy.

Katsuki had never thought of himself as the type to spoil anyone, but with you?

He couldn’t hold back. Whether it was remembering the exact brand of tea you liked, surprising you with that book you’d mentioned in passing, or drawing you a bath after a long day because he knew you loved the way it melted your stress away, he was always thinking of you.

And though he didn’t always say it with words, every little gesture, every thought, was his way of showing just how much he cherished you.

He loved the way your face lit up when he cooked your favorite meals, the way you leaned into his touch when he pulled you into his arms after a long day. He’d bite back his gruff words when you were upset, softening for you in ways he never would for anyone else. If you needed him, he was there—no questions, no hesitation.

He’d drop everything, no matter the time or place, just to see you smile again.

You are irreplaceable. No one could ever take your place in his heart. You are the one who makes him laugh until his sides hurt, who teases him just enough to keep him grounded, who has become the home he never knew he wanted. You aren’t just his wife; you were his best friend, his partner in crime, the only one who could tame his fiery temper with a look and melt his defenses with a smile.

Katsuki isn’t perfect, and he wouldn’t be the first to admit it, but for you, he tried. He tried to be softer, to show you just how much he adored you in every way he could. Because at the end of the day, you weren’t just the love of his life—

You are his everything.

“Suki?”

He shifts slightly beneath you, adjusting the arm draped over your back before he finally answers.

“Favorite part was you bein’ a pain in my ass.”

You blink, taken aback. “What?!”

He smirks now, the corner of his mouth pulling up as he looks at you with a lazy, smug expression. Hand trailing dangerously over that one spot on your back that he knew you loved.

“You heard me. You runnin’ around, causin’ chaos, laughin’ like an idiot… All of it. You’re a pain, but you’re my pain.”

Your cheeks flush, and you bury your face against his chest to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face. “You’re so dumb sometimes,” you mumble, your voice muffled against him. Kat snorts, clearly satisfied with himself as his hand slides up to rest against the back of your head.

“Yeah, but yer stuck with me.”

“And I love it,” you shoot back, your voice playful despite your embarrassment.

“Damn right you do,” he replies, his voice softening as he presses a kiss to the center of your lips.

In the quiet that follows, you glance over to see Shoto watching the two of you with an unimpressed expression.

“Could you save the mushy stuff for when I’m not here?”

Katsuki doesn’t even bother looking at him, choosing instead to pull you closer against his chest. “Shut it, Icy Hot. You’re lucky I didn’t kick your ass off this couch.”

Shoto sighs dramatically, but he doesn’t move from his spot curled against your side. You chuckle softly, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest as you let yourself relax fully into their embrace.

This, right here, was your favorite part of the day.

“I forgot my tea mug at the park.”

“FOR FUCKS SAKE!"

@willnetries, I HEARD SOMEONE CALL FOR DESSERT!!

This was my first time trying to write the whole of class 1a into a fic and I need to lay down.

I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES!!!!

My requests are free and open.

Taglist from both of my master lists because I need to feed the cats: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum. @aespie, @dancingqueen276, @erensbbg, @lillizxzz,

Master lists in question: Katsuki's Sugar baby, Katsuki's Ex who secretly had his baby

My master list is a work in progress but there's plenty more Katsuki, Aizawa, and other characters if you request them. Ao3 is sexy too.

You can also tip me a coffee if you want. (Just made it, so excited! \(≧▽≦)/ <33)

Remember: Comments and likes, they really help. Don't be afraid to leave me a sexy little reblog too.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

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a-hound-will-die-for-you · 10 days ago

Text

Nightmares

Masterlist | img source

Summary: The Hound takes you with him as he flees King's Landing. Exhausted, he decides to stop at an inn along the road to rest. The man seems to hate you with every fiber of his being. Or at least, that’s what you think until you see him trapped in a terrible nightmare. Is he dreaming about his brother? Word count: 1350 Warning: lady f!reader x grumpy sandor clegane; nightmares; angst; fluff English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes I might make. Constructive feedback is welcomed, I am here to share and learn <3

The flame flickers and trembles as you bring your lips close and blow it out.

You've always liked the smell of hot wax. The hints of honey and resin remind you of the warm, homely nights in the Red Keep. The comfort of your chambers, the soft safety of your bedroom… A sad smile touches your lips as you think of how distant those luxuries feel now.

You blink a few times in the blackness before peering at the huge form sprawled across the bed. The man sleeps like a log, flat on his back with an arm draped over his forehead and his feet hanging off the edge of the mattress. Being so damn tall definitely has its drawbacks.

Barefoot, you tiptoe toward the bed and flinch when the wooden floor creaks beneath you. The woolen blanket smells of dust, and its texture feels rough against your delicate fingers. As you lift it, your eyes land on a white, rounded shape resting right next to the man's body. He has had the decency to place a pillow between you. A barrier, should you decide to lie beside him. "How thoughtful," you think wryly.

Everything seems like a cruel joke of fate.

You never thought the first time you’d ever spend a night alone with a man would be in some rundown inn, lost in the middle of nowhere. You never thought it would be with a man who curses your presence at every opportunity he gets. And above all, of all the men in Westeros, you never thought it would be… the Hound.

****

"Don’t even think about waking me unless it’s life or death," he had growled the moment you stepped into the room. "The road ahead is full of bastards worse than me. Murderers, thieves, rapists. If I don’t rest, I won’t be able to kill them. And if I don’t kill them, you’ll have to deal with them yourself. Trust me, girl, you don’t want that. So don’t piss me off,” he had said while undoing the buckles of his armor. You just nodded and watched him, squirming every time a plate fell to the floor.

The weeks before this had been a nightmare. Robberies, attempted kidnappings, ambushes, endless chases. The Hound hadn’t had a moment’s rest in days. You, however, survived on brief naps, stealing what little sleep you could by resting your head against his chestplate as you rode. He never complained about that. What he did complain about was your constant whining. Your grumbling about the lack of comfort and the pitiful lamenting of your voice over your sorry state as a fugitive.

"Quit your sniveling," he said.

"Should’ve left you behind. Would’ve spared me a whole fucking lot of headaches."

"Damn the moment I ever decided to bring you along..."

Alright, you got it. The man hated you. And you despised him just as much, probably more. All you both wanted was to put this whole damn journey behind you, reach your destination -whatever it was- and never see each other again. But to make it there alive, he had to sleep, and that meant no interruptions…

****

You slide into bed, barely daring to breathe. The blanket beneath you is warm and softer than it looks, though the mattress seems like it’s been there since Aegon the Conqueror. You cling to the edge of the bed with your back turned to him, fighting the pull of gravity that threatens to roll you toward him. The rhythmic breathing of the Hound turns into a soft snore behind you. Without thinking, you press your back against the pillow that lies between you. Your tired eyes flutter shut, gradually drifting into a light stupor.

The broad, smooth back of a giant black stallion rocks beneath you, metal gauntlets holding you steady, preventing you from tumbling off…

A gruff, annoyed grunt rouses you from sleep. Did you wake him? You don’t dare to look. You shrink into yourself, trying to take up as little space as possible, careful not to bother him. There’s a moment of silence and you curl into the sheets, trying to drift off. But then you hear him again. A pained sound this time. Behind you, his massive frame shifts and writhes.

“N-no…” he mutters, breathing heavily.

Confused, you turn your head to look at him.

Cold sweat slicks his furrowed brow, and his face is contorted in a surly grimace, but his eyes remain closed. You let out a quiet breath of relief, happy to avoid his furious temper for waking him. But just as you start to settle back into your position, you notice his head jerking side to side, struggling on his pillow.

He’s having a nightmare. And judging by how desperately his body moves, a bad one.

“No,” he mumbles again, and you can’t help but feel sorry for him as you watch his Adam’s apple tremble with nervousness.

The Hound is a man haunted by his past. You’ve heard the stories about how his brother had shoved his head into a fire when they were kids, tales you can't quite tell if they are truth or mere legend. Gods know what horrible memories he’s fighting off…

For a moment, you consider waking him, wondering if it might be worth the sacrifice of your own peace for his well-being. But before you can do anything, his voice shatters in his throat.

“Get away from her!” he shouts in terror, fingers clawing at the sheets.

Your eyes go wide, and you sit up fully to face him. The Hound is awkwardly reaching for his left side, hand fumbling as if seeking the hilt of his sword.

And then, he desperately calls out your name.

Your breath catches in your lungs.

He is dreaming of you.

Dreaming of you in danger.

“You won’t have her, she’s with me!" he growls again, pleading for you to stay behind him.

You stand rigid, unsure of what to do, and then his body twitches violently with a broken, pained groan.

“No… let her go,” he mumbles pathetically, legs kicking as though trying to run. “Please… ”

He is begging. And you are witnessing it. You have to do something, and quickly.

Carefully, you push the pillow aside and slip your hand under his, settling it on his hip where his missing sword should be. His fingers entwine with yours in a grip so tight it hurts.

The gesture seems to calm him, but not enough. He keeps mumbling a string of words you can’t understand. You lean in a little closer, and your free hand hovers over his agitated chest for a moment before gently resting there. The rapid pounding of his heart thunders in the palm of your hand, and you press down, trying to ground him. The warmth of his linen tunic feels so different from the cold steel of his breastplate...

“Sandor, I’m safe, I’m here with you,” you whisper. It’s the first time you call him by his name.

His scowl instantly relaxes, and his breathing begins to even out into steady, slow breaths. You stay there for several minutes, holding his chest and whispering softly until you feel his pulse thump more regularly beneath your hand. Then you slowly pull it from his chest and lie back in the bed, turning away from him and leaving the pillow barrier gone.

In his sleep, his hand searches for yours on his chest. When he doesn't find it, he rolls onto his side until his body is pressed against your back. His arms, strong as oak branches, wrap around your waist and fit your body against his, tucking the top of your head beneath his chin. Then his hands move to your belly and curl around invisible reins, caging you between his forearms and holding you tight, making sure you don’t slip from the saddle.

...............

Thanks for reading! <3

What do you think? A comment would give me life and encourage me to write more :)

#jintaka stuff #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane fanfic #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor x reader #the hound fanfic #the hound x reader #x reader

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themosthatedbeingmoving · 1 year ago

Note

--- angel was losing blood. and fast. he practically toppled through the hotel doors, bleeding from his back, a busted nose, and a black eye. he was also wearing very little, having just come back from val's.

. . . which explains the marks origin.

Lucifer adding more circus details to the hotel secretly of course smirking as he thought about Alastor being annoyed when he heard the door open and quickly slipped the hellephant decor back into portal he got it from .

“I wasn’t doing anything— Angel?! “

He rushed to the others side quickly eyes scanning the wounds , “Angel what happened— fuck never mind that .. come with me , “ a portal to his room opened up right in front of them , he’d worried about what happened later right now he needed to take care of his Angel .

#oh he angyy #king dust• your arms to keep me warm

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themosthatedbeingmoving · 1 year ago

Note

Lucifer smirked glad he was able to make his boyfriend gawk like that .

“A little hellbat~” he chuckled and stalked towards Angel “ shall we take this to the bedroom~”

“So Angel I heard you had a thing for my demonic form?”

His tail is lashing from side to side as he stands in his full glory horns rising far above his head as the flame roars quietly .

--- he gawks.

he's allowed. he's allowed to gawk at his hot ass boyfriend.

" . . . uh, who . . . wow . . . told you that?"

#lmao #king dust• your arms to keep me warm

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tayraedoll · 4 months ago

Text

The Devil at Play

You are a new sinner at the hotel; you are shy but you finally open up after a couple drinks at the bar. Angel Dust steers the conversation to his favorite spicy topic, little do you know there is someone else who is intently listening in.

My first attempt at a Lucifer fic! Let me know what you think <3

Word count: 3,824

18+ MDNI

TW: Alcohol, swearing, drunken shenanigans, sharing a bed, use of s3x toys, rose suction stimulator, fingering, fluff

"Say, is that a mirror in y'er pocket? Cuz I can see myself getting in y'er pants", Angel seductively wagged his eyebrows at Husk, making the feline roll his eyes and take another swig from his bottle.

You smiled into your second cosmopolitan, trying to suppress the giggle that wanted to bubble up. It had been two weeks since you joined the Hazbin Hotel crew and you finally felt comfortable enough to join the others for a drink at the bar. You were never the most social person in life, and that trait followed you into the afterlife. You had spent most of your nights by yourself either in your room or in a quiet part of the hotel like the library. You didn't have anything against the other residents, you were just super self-conscious in social situations. But you were determined to befriend the others and took the leap to finally put yourself out there a bit.

Charlie was definitely the easiest to be around, her bubbly personality made you feel at ease. You also did not have to talk much in her presence, the girl spoke a million words a minute which allowed you to largely just sit there and listen to her rambling. Vaggie was also alright, she wasn't nearly as talkative as her girlfriend but she had a calmness about her. Niffty and Husk mostly just ignored you, they'd briefly acknowledge your presence before getting caught up in their own worlds again. It took a few days for you to warm up to Angel Dust, his crude humor initially made you uncomfortable. But he saw how truly uneasy you were so he never directed those remarks at you which helped tremendously. Now, you were just as content in his presence as you were Charlie's. You honestly stayed clear of Alastor when you could, alarm bells would blare in your head when he was around and your stomach would flip nauseatingly. He was definitely outwardly sweet, but your gut told you not to trust him so you vowed to keep the deer demon at arms distance.

The only resident that you just could not get a read on at all was the King of Hell himself. Lucifer was always so distant, you couldn't recall a single actual conversation shared between the two of you in your entire time at the hotel. Although he didn't necessarily make you feel unwelcome, you did not think he was particularly fond of you either. Part of you wanted to confront him, ask him what his problem with you was; but the other part of you figured the only thing worse than the Devil's cold shoulder would be his wrath. Unwilling to risk angering the fallen angel, you resigned yourself to the act of pretending the other person didn't exist.

'God he was pathetic, two weeks have gone by and he still hadn't mustered the courage to talk to you!', Lucifer thought to himself. Every time he took the initial step to finally strike up a conversation he would inevitably psych himself out of it; he was afraid of coming off weird or worse- desperate. The Devil used to be a smooth talker, but Lilith walking out on him wreaked havoc on his self-esteem. Now, it seemed all he could do is watch you from afar, perpetually tongue-tied and timorous.

He swirled his whiskey around in the glass, watching the amber liquid intently as he tried to come up with yet another reason to talk to you. He sighed heavily, maybe he should just go to bed instead and save himself any more embarrassment.

"So Whispers," Lucifer perked up at hearing Angel's nickname for you, he thought it was positively adorable, "what does it take to make you scream?" Lucifer nearly choked on his whiskey, struggling to stifle his cough in his jacket.

You felt your face heat up, you swished your cosmo before downing the whole thing in one gulp. The alcohol in your system was making you more brazen, with a determined hum to yourself you set the glass back down with a little more force than necessary before turning to face the pornstar.

"You know what? I don't think I ever have. I think that is just some ploy pornos use to make sex seem better than it actually is", you smirk at the stunned look in the spider's eyes, his jaw practically unhinged with how low it dropped.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa timeout here Whispers! Are you tellin me you ain't ever orgasmed before?!", Angel narrowed his eyes at you, trying to detect any hint of deception.

"No- I mean I have! It's just...it's never been like what porn makes it look like! You know- like the 'can't walk straight, seeing stars, and brain won't function anymore' kind. In reality, it's a lot more subtle than that. That's all I'm saying", you shrug and look around the bar to escape Angel's look of complete horror. Your eyes find Lucifer's across the bar- he is staring right at you with such intensity you felt his eyes bore right into your very soul. You swallow dryly and turn back to Angel, his aghast expression was much preferable to Lucifer's fierce staring contest.

"Sweet Satan Babycakes, I don't think you've EVER had GOOD sex before! Don't worry, we will fix this! I will get you set up with an online dating profile and we will get you laid by the end of the week", Angel reached for your phone- which you were thankfully able to grab first you shuddered to think about what the pornstar would write for a dating profile.

"Thanks Angel but I am not really wanting to meet anyone right now. Besides, I promise you I am more than capable of taking care of myself", you shoot him a wink. "I'm off to bed, goodnight everyone!" After the resounding chorus of 'goodnights' from the other guests you make your way to the stairs, completely unaware of the yellow eyes that followed your every step until you were out of sight.

An hour later you were freshly showered and changed into your comfiest PJ's; you were about to get into bed when there was a knock at your door. You sighed heavily, you swear if Angel was at your door with a picture of a dude on a dating app you were going to to shave all of fluff right off. Half-stomping to the door you open it roughly, "Angel really, I'm ser-". Your eyes became wide as saucers, it was not Angel at your door as you expected but Lucifer himself. "Uhhh...what can I do for you Luc- I mean your majesty?!" Heat spread throughout your face and neck, no doubt you were tomato red right now.

"Luc-ifers f-fine sweet-art", he slurred back. You raise a brow and appraise the Devil before you; he was utterly disheveled- his shirt untucked, vest and tie pulled open, hair a wild mess like his hands kept running through it, and his eyes were completely glazed over. The angel was completely shit-faced and standing at your door in the middle of the night- great. But WHY was he here? And did he really need to get absolutely hammered in order to talk to you? Your smile faltered, that thought stung more than you cared to admit.

"Sooo uhh Lucifer, is there something I can help you with?" you cock your head to the side questioningly.

The blonde beamed at you with the brightest smile, your heart becoming a puddle in your chest at the sight, "Yes! Y/N, would you do me the date of going on an honor with me? Wait-what?"

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped you, he was too stinkin cute, "Maaayyybe we should revisit this conversation tomorrow when you have sobered up."

"NO!", he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your shoulders, you let out a gasp of surprise as you stared into his wild eyes. "I-I'm so sorry. You're right, I just...don't know if I'll have the courage to." Your heart broke, he looked close to tears and was having a hard time looking you in the eyes. "I've been trying to talk to your for weeks...I'm such a coward", he sniffed and moved to pull away from you, however, you were quick to grab hold of him and wrap him in a tight hug.

"It's okay, I have a hard time talking to others as well. That doesn't make you a coward", you feel him wrap his arms around you in return, you vow to hold him for as long as he needed.

After several minutes he shifted more of his weight onto you, making you stumble and readjust so neither of you fell. "Hey Lucifer?", you were met with silence. "Lucifer!", this time you got a small snore. Fantastic, now he was asleep practically on top of you. Now what were you supposed to do about this? You looked around, no one was in the hallway, likely everyone had gone to bed already. You sighed, you were not strong enough to carry him up three flights of stairs to his room, nor could you just leave him on the hallway floor. Your only liable option was to bring him into your room and share the bed, it was at least big enough that you could share it without needing to touch each other.

You half-dragged/half-carried the King of Hell to your bed and set him on the edge. You took the time to remove his shoes before tucking his legs under the covers and bringing the comforter up to his chin. He had a soft smile on his face, it was the first time you had ever seen him look peaceful. You smiled at him for a moment, "Goodnight Lucifer", you whispered. Your feet padded softly on the floor as you tiptoed to the other side of the bed, carefully slinking in so you wouldn't disturb his majesty. With a final glance at the angel beside you, you let your consciousness drift into dreams of yellow eyes and warm hugs.

Lucifer grumbled unhappily, pushing his face further into his pillow in an attempt to block out some of the light seeping in through the window. He just became aware of the pounding headache behind his eyes, Satan why did he drink so much?! Okay yea, perhaps the 4 whiskey sours he chugged before running to your room were a bit much...WAIT. He froze, memories suddenly crashing back into his mind. HE. HAD. COME. TO. YOUR. ROOM. Yellow eyes flew wide open- the baby blue comforter, the Verosika poster on the wall, and the side table full of make-up, perfume, and lotion were DEFINITELY not his. He slowly picked his head up and his breath caught in his throat- he was on top of you, hugging you koala-bear style, and what he thought was the comfiest pillow in existence was actually your left breast. HE WAS NUZZLING HIS FACE INTO YOUR BOSOM NOT EVEN 60 SECONDS AGO!

Thankfully, what was left of his lucky stars came together and you were not yet awake to find him in such a compromising position. However, with how he was wrapped around you there was a high chance that he would wake you by moving. Slowly, he extracted his arms from underneath you one at a time; he breathed a sigh of relief when he was safely moved over to "his" side of the bed. Now what? Did he just continue to lay here until you woke up? Would it be weirder if he watched you sleep or if he just left and made you wake up alone? Luckily (the the second time already this morning), his thoughts did not have to spiral for long before you stirred beside him. You groggily blinked the sleep from your beautiful eyes before gifting him with your radiant smile, "Good morning! Sleep well?"

The angel chuckled nervously, golden blush painting his cheeks as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, "Yea, better than I have for a while honestly. Thank you." You both fall into an uncomfortable silence, neither of you knowing where to go from here.

"So uhh.."

"About last night-"

You both stop, giving the other room to speak first which only led to more unpleasant silence.

"Ladies first."

"No, I insist, you first"

Lucifer coughed nervously, "I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have come to your room, especially in such an inebriated state. But thank you for not kicking me out or otherwise shunning me."

You gave him a small smile "Well, I couldn't just leave our king alone in the hallway. What kind of hostess would that have made me?" The king chuckled before you continued in a barely audible whisper, "Do you remember what you said last night?"

Lucifer's eyebrows scrunched together as he carded through his memories, trying to figure out what you could be referring to. His eyes went wide before he turned back to you,"Yes!"

You each just stared at each other for a bit, both equally flushed. Finally, you broke the silence, "Yes...you remember?"

"Oh! Golly, I am so sorry! Yes, I remember and YES I would still like to take you out on a date! I-if you would like to go that is...on a date...with me."

Your happy giggle sounded like music to his ears, you gently reached for is hand and intertwined your fingers together, "I'd love to. I mean, technically, we have already slept together", you shot him a wink.

Lucifer gave you a sultry smile, "Ah yes, I will make sure that I am sober next time so I can fully enjoy the experience." You laughed, getting up to collect your things to get ready for the day. Lucifer followed suit, patting around the bed for his phone; when he couldn't find it he reached for the bedside table. Upon opening a drawer he found a peculiar device- it was in the shape of rose with an opening in the middle. Intrigued, the demon king pushed the "on" button and suction took place at the opening.

Lucifer's face turned a brilliant gold when he realized what he was holding. And it was just his luck that you happened to walk back over at that moment.

"So, what's on the ag-", you cut off when you saw your sex toy in the angel's hand; all you two could do was stare at each other- seemed you were doing that a lot lately. To break the tension, Lucifer said the first thing that came to mind.

"Does this make you scream?"

Your mind was blank, all trains of thought came to an abrupt halt when you found THE KING OF HELL with your rose clitoral stimulator in hand. You couldn't comprehend the question he asked, "Er...what?"

"Well I-uh...I remember Angel asking what made you scream at the bar last night and you said nothing. I must admit that I agree with Angel on thinking you have never, ever had good sex if you've never lost composure."

"Oh really? And do you think that YOU could make me lose my composure?", you crossed your arms in front of you and smirked.

The king stared back at you with wide eyes, the beautiful caramel color taking over his face again. You slowly approached him until you were standing just an inch apart, "Show me."

It was like a switch was flipped at your words, Lucifer's hands were on your hips and he began walking you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit the bed, he raised one hand to gently cup your cheek as he leaned in to leave a tender kiss on your lips. His lips were as smooth as satin and tasted like candied apples; you moaned sensually, which he took advantage of by delving his tongue into your mouth.

Suddenly, his hand still on your hip turned you around so your back was to him. He sat back on the bed, pulling you with him until you were sat between his legs with your back pressed to his chest; you could feel his heart beating erratically, his body hard- hinting at the chiseled musculature that lay underneath his clothing. The king's panting breaths gently rocked you forward; he nuzzled his face into your neck, planting soft kisses on your sensitive skin.

Your hands gripped onto his knees as his hands slowly moved up your sides and fondled your breasts through your clothes, another wanton moan escaping you.

"Oh my sweet Angel, losing control already? I haven't even begun to touch you yet", Lucifer's voice had dropped an octave, deep and rich like barrel-aged bourbon. You pushed your breasts into his hands as her expertly kneaded them. He lightly gripped your shoulders and pushed you forward just enough for him to get your shirt over your head, he took your bra off as well before pulling you back to rest against him once more.

"Now, let's see what other pretty sounds you can make", he turned the suction on at the lowest setting again, the sound of the buzzing toy filling the room. The devil began by moving the toy down your neck and across your collarbone, the slight suction making your skin tingle. As he made his way down your décolleté, your grip on his knees tightened and whimper passed through your lips. The moment the suction caught onto your hardened nipple your back arched almost painfully and your mouth popped open into a perfect "O".

"That's it gorgeous, just relax, let me take care of you."

He increased the suction on your nipple by one setting, his other hand masterfully pinching and tweaking your other nipple. Your thighs clamped together, hips gyrating desperately to get friction between your legs as the heat in your lower belly blossomed. Lucifer returned his lips to your neck, nipping your skin and leaving dark bruises in his wake. You cried out in a half-moan/half-sob, the coil tightening alarmingly fast. You bit down on your lip as you struggled to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

"Oh no, no, no Sweetheart. No holding back your tempting cries, I want to hear them all", he removed his fingers from your breast to dip a claw into your mouth to free your lip from your teeth. Returning his fingers to your aching nipple, he swirled the same claw that was just in your mouth around the sensitive bud. All the sensations were too much, with a scream, you came undone under his fingers. Your head hit the demon's shoulder as you caught your breath. Did he really just make you cum by only touching your nipples?!

Before you knew what was happening, the rose was moving down your navel towards your waist. You were not sure how or when it happened but you now found yourself completely bare. Instinctively, you attempted to close your knees to hide yourself only to be stopped by two strong legs wrapping around your thighs and forcing them apart.

"That was a fabulous first act Angel, but it's time for the grand finale", Lucifer had not dropped that sultry tone. Your core clenched upon hearing the promise of pleasure in his voice, slick leaking from your needy hole and ruining the bedsheets underneath you. His fingers trailed down your side, tickling your belly, before slipping between your folds. A loud gasp erupted from you as the king lazily circled your sensitive nub, "So wet for me, such a good girl. Are you ready for more?"

His fingers parted your folds, holding your outer labia apart to expose your clit while his other hand held the rose to hover just above your most sensitive spot. You knew it was coming, but a jolt of electricity still rocked your every nerve ending the moment the suction hit your pearl. Your thighs immediately tensed almost painfully, Lucifer's own legs keeping you spread-eagled; a high-pitched trill resounded throughout the room.

"Just like that Doll, keep those gorgeous sounds coming", Lucifer's fingers slid down your lower lips and two digits pushed into you, rubbing along your gummy walls until he found that perfect spot that had your head falling back on his chest again. His fingers set a long, smooth rhythm, brushing that sweet spot over and over again. The squelching sound of his fingers disappearing into your pussy accompanying your cries.

You had lost control of your voice, your lewd moans escaping you completely unbidden as your whole body coiled impossibly tight. Knowing how close you were, The Devil pressed the button to increase the suction just a bit more and the damn finally broke. You came with such a deafening scream there was no way it was not heard throughout the entire hotel. Your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen to your brain, sweat covering you in a thin sheen as you panted. You could officially say you were fucked until you couldn't think straight.

Lucifer set the rose to the side and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles up and down your arms as you came down from your high. He planted adoring kisses on the hickies left on your neck and licking up the trails of sweat.

"So, do you still believe that screaming is just some ploy used in porn to fake pleasure?", the angel asked when your breathing finally returned to normal.

You giggled, "I'll admit, that was the best sex I have ever had."

"Oh Darling, you know I am the sin of pride right? There is no reason to inflate my ego like that", you could feel his smile against your skin. You twisted around to face him, pressing your lips to his.

"If I had known you were capable of that, I would have spoken to you a long time ago", you winked.

"Well, now I'm worried that no conversation will live up to your expectations", he chuckled.

"Hmm, somehow I highly doubt that."

At that moment, your stomach embarrassingly decided to join the conversation. Lucifer smiled wider "Do you like pancakes?"

"I could definitely go for some pancakes right now", you nodded.

Lucifer kissed your temple, "I'll meet you downstairs then!" With that, The Devil disappeared into a portal and left you to get dressed. You couldn't help but smile as you replayed the unexpected turn of events. You were really happy you decided to go to the bar last night.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader #fem reader #rose toy

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writethrough · 1 year ago

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Can I request a morpheus x reader where his s/o has curly/wavy hair? Or just reader being obsessed with touching his hair and he absolutely love it and he likes to do the same

Mid-Afternoon Dream

(Morpheus x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: Morpheus enjoys his moment of peace with you.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 430

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me! I went with the second half of your idea since I like to try and keep Reader as up-to-interpretation as possible. I hope you enjoy!

You were lying on your couch, music playing softly from your record player. Spring was slowly shifting into summer, enough that you had opened your windows to feel the breeze drift through your home.

The early afternoon rays filtered in, and everything seemed brighter and newer in that way only the warm weather brought. For this moment, everything was peaceful.

Even Morpheus couldn’t find fault in it. Not when his head rested on your chest, and you were carding through his hair to the base of his neck. Your nails gently dragging down his scalp to the ends of his strands would’ve made him shiver if he were human.

You’ve been like this for some time now, relaxing in each other's arms. It was a rare moment for the Dream King. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. Though, it’d been happening more frequently since he’d met you.

When he’s working, his mind often wondered to you, what you were doing, when he would see you, it’d become ever the distraction—be it a welcomed one.

He hummed as your nails traced his neck, and you giggled lightly. He squeezed your side in return.

Never had he thought he’d let anyone see him like this, not after all those years in that cage. But there was something in you that called him. He could let his guard down around you. And it was easier than he thought.

You opened your arms to him and all he had to do was step closer.

You placed a kiss on the top of his head, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Have I put the Sandman to sleep?” you teased.

He answered with his eyes closed. “You are the only creature capable of such a feat.”

“You deserve some rest.” He could hear your smile, but there was seriousness, too. It made him lift to his elbow to look at you.

You stared at one another a few moments until you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Your thumb grazed his skin reverently, seemingly amazed that he was before you now.

The corner of your lips ticked up as you took him in. This otherworldly being that wasn’t really a being at all. He was too perfect. It only made sense that he was a concept, one that provided all with the ability to escape, to wrap themselves in imagination, to set themselves free.

“My Dream,” you whispered, almost like you hadn’t meant to.

His eyes softened. His own hand reached up to caress your hair.

“My heart.”

Tags: @sayumiht, @hatterripper31, @snowsatsu, @1950schick, @navs-bhat, @bookshelf-dust, @sapphireonline, @fictional-hooman, @steph-speaks, @ladyredstar1991, @secretdreamlandmentality, @ababycake, @morpheuss1mp, @boofy1998, @alice-the-nerd, @herfantasyworldd, @poemfreak306, @tronnily, @commanderfreethatdust

Let me know if you want to be added to the list!

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kaisers-house-of-desires · 2 years ago

Note

I'd like to request some spicy time with a rough, yandere Malleus. Pretty please? 🥺👉👈

Oh, dear guest. This was so much fun to write~ I do hope you enjoy!

Title: The King’s New Toy

Characters: Yandere!Malleus x m!Reader, Lilia Vanrouge

Contains: Dark Themes (Yandere), rough sex, bondage/restraints, toy usage(vibrating dildo), sinful magic usage, orgasm denial, orgasm control, Diasomnia has a dungeon, Malleus has two dicks

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI

Reblogs > likes

Rain gently pelted the tall windows of the castle dorm, keeping Malleus’s attention from the book in his hands. The fireplace he sat by was crackling with flame, warming him and the area with its faint glow. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting like that or how he ended up so distracted. It was Lilia bringing him a nightly cup of tea that shook him out of his thoughts when it was placed onto the table beside his chair.

“How long as it been?” Lilia asked, gazing over at the clock as he wrapped his arms over his chest. “I hadn’t seen you return.”

Malleus checked the same clock, noting the current time while reaching for the tea cup. “Almost two hours. An hour and a half it seems.”

“Kheehee~ My, he must be an absolute mess by now.” A playful smirk resided on Lilia’s face from the mere thought.

“I’ll pay him a visit shortly,” Malleus explained, sipping the warm liquid. “It’s a punishment after all. He will learn that his actions have consequences…”

———

Another thirty minutes had gone by before Malleus descended the dark stone steps of Diasomnia’s dungeon. Reaching the floor, a row of cells were before him, empty and gathering dust and cobwebs. A faint sound echoed toward him, and a sinister, teeth bearing smirk grew on his lips. It sounded like whining, whimpering. Anyone else may not have understood what it was, but Malleus was well aware. Walking down the hall, the sounds only grew until he reached the last cell, and inside was a lovely sight.

Near the back wall sat you, on your knees and riding an enchanted toy that Malleus had conjured himself. Your arms were behind you, wrists shackled with a chain leading to the wall. Your head hung down as the toy vibrated deep inside, your mouth slacked open as your weak moans bounced off the cell’s walls. Malleus gazed over at your twitching erection, how it stood full mast and ached for release. He chuckled darkly, catching your attention.

Your head shut up, and a look of desperation filled your eyes as you leaned your body forward. “M-Malleus! Malleus, please, I can’t take it anymore! This toy, i-it kept stopping when I was about to…p-please just let me finish! I need to cum!”

The toy was something Malleus concocted himself, having taken a standard vibrating toy and projecting a magic onto it that would sense when a person’s body is about to release. It would increase in strength ever so often, only to shut off when it felt the body about to cum. Such a toy drove you wild, as it not only denied you, but has also given you ruined orgasms as well.

Malleus pulled out a ring of keys, deliberately checking each one slow and precisely just to watch you squirm more on that toy. When he found the key he wanted, he opened the lock of the cell, letting the door open with a creak. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?”

Ah, that’s right. The whole reason you were in here was because he suspected you of seeing the other students behind his back. Though as false as that was, he was adamant on you not choosing him, so he resorted to other methods, methods he were sure would persuade you.

You nodded quickly. “Y-Yes! Yes I’ve learned my lesson! I won’t see the others anymore! I promise! I-It’ll just be us s-so please! L-Let me cum, and I’ll be all yours!”

Malleus raised his palm up and slowly lifted his hand. The toy followed the hand placement, increasing in speed and strength. Your moans followed, increasing in pitch and volume as your hips rocked back into the device.

“Y-Yes, yes yesyesyesyesyes!!”

You were so close. So very close—

—until it stopped.

Realizing once again you were robbed of your orgasm, you let out a frustrated cry, leaning forward and tugging at your restraints.

“Malleus! Malleus, please!”

“You poor thing. So desperate for release.” His voice was dark, sounding like it was laced with poison. “What makes you think you deserve it?”

“B-Because I’ll behave! I swear I-I’ll listen!” Your voice was full of panic and desperation. Your body needed to release or you swore you’d go mad.

As Malleus approached you, the sounds of his shoes clicking felt like heavy lead in your stomach, but your heart fluttered when he knelt down and grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Do you speak the truth?” he asked coldly. “Do you swear to abide by my wishes?”

You swallowed dryly, nodding. “Y-Yes, Malleus. I swear. I-I swear.”

He paused for a moment before looking at the chains restraining you as he stood. With a single flick of a finger, one of the links broke, sending you forward and resting your torso on the ground. Your ass hung in the air, the toy sticking out as if it was begging to be grabbed.

Malleus would do just that, grabbing the base of the toy before slowly moving it in and out. “Two hours of such torment. I’m surprised your body has lasted this long.”

You couldn’t answer. The only you could do was moan into the ground, the friction so much more delightful than the intense vibrating. You gently rocked your hips back, attempting to get more, but Malleus scowled, gripping your hip with one hand to still you before pulling the toy out.

“N-No! P-Please…” You whined into the stone floor. You were about to beg him to put it back when you felt something hot prod at your ass.

“One more time, dear…whose wishes do you abide by?”

You gulped once more, having to wrack through your recently clouded brain. “Y-Yours. Your wishes.” Then, as a, hopefully, bonus, you added, “I-I abide by my king’s wishes. I-I serve King Malleus Draconia.”

That seemed to do it, much to your surprise, as you felt your hole stretch to an unbelievable size. Such an action caused you to let out a shriek as your eyes rolled back, your body visibly trembling from the sensitivity of being played with for hours.

Malleus leaned down over you, his chest flush with your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“O-Oh yes,” he breathed. “Th-This was definitely ready for me~ S-So tight~ Great Seven, I should have grabbed you s-sooner~”

Having waited until you were a bit more adjusted until he began to thrust, his dual cocks grazing all the right spots deep inside of you and riling you up more than you already were. His thrusts, at first, were slow, using the movement to stretch you more before or lost himself to his own desires. Your stomach bulged from his dicks stretching you internally, the stretch of your skin moving in tandem with his movements. Everything was enough to make you scream, which you did when he hit a special spot deep inside.

“There!! Right there!! Please!!”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as when he finally hit that spot, it was all he hit, making your mind turn to mush as you became nothing but a mere toy for the king.

“W-Wanna cum…please…! I-I wanna come, Malleus!”

Having you in that held position, he hoisted you up, one arm around your waist and the other on your neck, supporting your weight as he never once stopped fucking you. His cocks swelled with anticipation, throbbing with his own climax approaching.

“Who do you belong to, child of man?”

“M-Malleus Draconia! I-I belong to the G-Great King, M-Malleus Draconia!”

Satisfied with the answer, Malleus growled in your ear. “Cum, child of man. Cum for your king…~”

You didn’t need to be told twice as almost immediately, ropes of your seed shot out in streams as your mouth hung open in a silent yet strangled scream, body twitching and spasming as it finally saw the release it had been yearning for for so long. White clouded the edges of your vision, until your eyes shut, your body falling limp in his arms as your chest slowly rose and fell.

The guilt that Malleus should have felt was instead pride as he gave your cheek a gentle kiss, feeling more than proud with himself for having ruined you into exhaustion like this.

“You’ll be the best little toy for me, (y/n)~” he said as he gently brushed your hair from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead before magically breaking the rest of the restraints and carrying you toward the steps.

#kaisers house of desires #x male reader #x reader #twisted wonderland #x male smut #x male y/n #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus x y/n #yandere malleus #malleus #male reader #top malleus #bottom male reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

Text

Winter's King 18

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

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Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp.

“You well, mouse?” He growls.

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king.

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.”

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do.

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.”

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them.

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles.

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse.

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.”

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck.

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.”

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?”

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...”

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.”

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.”

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?”

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man.

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.”

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?”

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.”

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.”

“And what about you?” You murmur.

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.”

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that.

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before.

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.”

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn.

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.”

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.”

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?”

“It is... my duty.”

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have.

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.”

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known.

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...”

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak.

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other.

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.”

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle.

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders.

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.”

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you.

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?”

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass.

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue.

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head.

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.”

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.”

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party.

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it.

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top.

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.”

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise.

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains.

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses.

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.”

You gulp and gape at the large beast.

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.”

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined.

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth.

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on.

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through.

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns.

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.”

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back.

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door.

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him.

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly.

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand.

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you.

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.”

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort.

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?”

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice.

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?”

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you.

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

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thestoryden · 9 months ago

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Changing Winds Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader Jacaerys Velaryon x Strong!Reader Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Violence, Cannon Divergence Words: 2.1k HOTD MASTERLIST

Summary: In a world much different from our own King Viserys has yet to leave this world, but tensions still rise at the capital between Rhaenyra and Alicent. In a battle for truth and legacy you find yourself caught in between two princes. The only question now is: Who will you choose?

As you arrive back to the Red Keep from weeks on the road your mind lingers on the last time you saw Jacaerys. The thought of his soft smile twists your insides with excitement; his lips soft as fresh snow. His body pressed against your, his warmth biting back the cool summer breeze. You cannot wait a minute more to see him. You think to yourself his hair must have grown out in the few months you were apart. You wonder how it will frame his face now. Your carriage comes to a jerking halt, making your dreamy thoughts of him fizzle as you nearly fall out of your seat.

“Hey! I am supposed to make it back to the castle alive.” You shout to the coachmen.

You are helped out of the carriage and there in one person of nobility there to greet you. Aemond Targaryen. You roll your eyes. This blonde fool had been following your around nonstop the last time you were at the castle. Any moment that he was not in court, you could find him trailing behind you. He stands there with a slight smile; he is always up to some scheme. You huff out some kind of greeting as he extends out his hand in invitation. You reluctantly take it.

“A pleasure to see you again, Lady Strong” Aemond muses.

His kisses your hand gently and you retract it as quick as lightning. You look up at him. If he were not a prince you would even bother to greet him. Unfortunately, your fantasy does not match the reality of the present situation. His one eye focuses in on you. Whatever was left of his other eye, he keeps tucked behind a simple leather patch. You purse your lips. He is as unnerving as ever.

“Why is my father not here to greet me?” You ask bitterly.

You already know the answer, the Lord Confessor is always too busy to see you unless he needs something from you. He dealt mostly in information and would scrape out any kind of knowledge you had on the family’s inner workings whenever he saw you. Aemond lips curl in to a devilish smile.

“The Lord Strong is preoccupied at the moment.” Aemond replies, “The queen sent me to greet you in his stead. She said you should have a warm welcome home.”

Of course she did. She had taken a liking to you before she even officially met her. She had summoned you to court once she had come by news of your mother’s passing. As a child you could not refuse her request, so you were uprooted from your family’s home and sent to Kingslanding. From that day forward you were raised with the royal children. You were meant as a companion for Helena, but when you took more to Jace and Luke she did not complain.

Aemond leans down closer to your face, “Did you hear me?”

You snap back to reality and take a step back nearly stumbling into the carriage. Aemond swiftly laces an arm underneath you, and pulls you to his side. Your face burns with embarrassment. You can feel his muscles cradling your waist.

“What is it?” You scoff, as if you could make the tumble seem intentional.

Aemond’s face softens, “The queen would like you to join her for tea after you have settled in.”

You find your footing and push him away. He only releases you once you have steadied. He relaxes and lightly brush his hair back over his shoulder.

“Yes, of course I will.” You reply as you dust off your gown.

Aemond quiets his voice, “I am delighted my dear.”

Your face contorts in disgust at what must surely be a poorly timed jest. Aemond smirks in response, and makes his way in to the keep. You wait till his behind shut doors to stamp your feet in irritation.

“By the Seven, that stupid boy won’t leave me alone.” You seethe.

You head to your room and try to mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming tea. The thought crosses your mind that Jace may have left a note or gift to welcome your home coming. You urge your feet to move faster. When you finally see the familiar room, you check everywhere only to come up empty handed.

“Has anything been left for me?” You question a maid.

She shakes her head no in response.

After all the dirt and grime of the road is scrubbed off you finally look like a proper lady. A blue dress with green finery makes the cut for your tea gown. With your hair styled you head towards the castle gardens. At the far end, a table is set, Queen Alicent and the two of the greatest annoyances in your life are arranged around it.

“Greetings, Your Grace, the seven’s blessings be upon you.” You say softly.

“And to you Lady Strong,” Alicent replies with a cheerful smile.

You shift to an almost dreary tone, “Aegon, Aemond, glad to see your dragons didn’t shred you to pieces while I was gone.”

You bow to the Alicent and take the seat closest to her. Your eyes drag over the dishes and goblets. You are starved for decent food after the dried meats and oats of the journey to Kingslanding. There is a suspicious lack of tea at the table.

“Pardon me, Your Grace, but I thought I would be joining you for tea.” You question lightly.

Aemond voice sounds in a sullen tone, “As did I, but there were circumstances”

His words are cut short by Aegon’s slurring, “What my boorish brother means to say is, I wouldn’t come unless there was wine.”

You straighten your face as to not upset the queen and take a deep breath in. You had only left them for a few months and these two had some how gotten worse in your absence. You decide to move on to something more tasteful.

“Will Helena be joining us?” You ask trying to smooth over Aegon’s words.

The queen smiles, “Helena was her already. She grew tiresome of the boys’ antics and is now wondering the garden as we speak.”

“Bugs. She is searching for hideous insects rather than enjoying my company.” Aegon says in disgust.

Aemond quips back, “Well it is certainly more stimulating than speaking with you, Aegon.”

“Boys!” Alicent’s tone shifts, “She has not taken news of Jacaerys’ engagement well.”

Your mouth drops open, “His what?”

Aegon bursts into laughter, “They didn’t tell you?”

The next few moments are a blur. Aegon says something but in blends in with the horror engulfing your body. You find yourself leaving the table without any pleasantries and running off to in to the palace doors. The dark doorway like a gaping maw, you plunge yourself into the darkness of the keep’s halls.

Your dark brown curls cling to your sweaty face as you rush through the halls of the Red Keep. Step after step the words the Aegon had said to you burn into your brain. He’s engaged to Baela. It happened while your away. Your chest felt like it might explode out of your body. Soon you were pushing open the doors to the training yard. The cool air hits your face and you are frozen for just a moment as Jace smile beams with a laugh.

At first the sight of him cools off any irritation you may have felt, but then you realize that smile is not for you. It is for the white-haired girl standing opposite of him. Baela. He take her hand in his and gently kisses it. It is far too intimate to be considered a regular greeting. The fires inside you are once again stoked. You cannot imagine why he would embarrass you like this, and so publicly too. He deserves to feel your pain.

“Jacaerys!” Your voice rings out over the clanging of blades.

Everyone pauses and looks to you and then to the man you called upon.

His face goes ghost white, “You weren’t supposed to be back yet.”

The words dribble out of his agape mouth. You can feel the red-hot anger boiling just under the surface of your skin.

“Seven Hells!” You shout, “Is that all you have to say to me.”

You unstick your feet and plow through the muddy yard. Your colorful dress soaks in the damp earth turning it into a swampy discolored mess. He drops Baela’s hand as you lunge towards him, tackling Jacaerys to the ground.

“I am sorry.” He whines, “It was an accident.”

“An accident! An accident!” You yell back, “Breaking a glass is an accident! You broke my heart, that takes effort.”

You raise your hand and ball it in to a fist, bringing it down hard on to Jace’s face. The motion sends you forward a bit, giving Jace enough time to shield his face from more blows.

“I didn’t mean for it to end up like this.” He begs, “You have to believe me!”

You grab on to his mud-caked curls and pull his head up before slamming it back down. The force of it shoving the crust of the training field into Jace’s mouth.

“Collecting ladies’ maidenhoods!” You screech, “You are nothing, but a bloody bast-”

You are cut short by massive pair of arms wrapping around you and tearing you away. You still clutch on to a few of Jace’s curls that come up with you. Leaving him yowling in pain.

“That’s enough.” The deep voice rumbles through you.

You recognize it immediately as your uncle, Harwin Strong.

“You wouldn’t want say anything more you would regret.” He chastises.

He carries you out of the training field and back in to the castle. When Harwin sets you down he looks you in the eye.

“You mustn’t fault the boy for doing he duty.” He says gently, “There is still love in his heart for you. I am sure of it.”

Your purse your lips. You can’t think of the words you are hearing. Everything is drowned out by a blinding rage. How could he do this to you. After everything he promised, after everything he said. Tears well up in your eyes.

“I am sorry uncle, I must leave.” The words come out in a half blubbering.

You stagger down the hallway. Before slumping down in to an alcove. You let loose a sob and the tears begin flowing down your face. You tuck your head into your crossed arms. Your sleeves become a sticky, gross, sopping mess.

“Gods why,” You cry, “What have I done to deserve such cruelty?”

You feel a hand rest on your shoulder. You look up and try to pry open your swollen eyes.

“Here let me help you.” A voice whispers.

You feel a soft piece of linen move over your face. Clearing away the snot and wetness of your emotional devastation. You blink your eyes till they clear and see an unexpected face. Aemond. He sits down in front of you.

“Is it true?” You sob.

Aemond sighs, “Yes, my brother tells true, for once in his life.”

“How did it happen?” You beg him to tell you.

“After a feast, they were found tangled together in the dragon pit.” Aemond’s voice trails off, “The arrangement came after.”

Your heart dropped. You did not want to believe it true. If it were because of duty, it would be one thing, but Jace having desire for someone else broke you. Water drips from your lashes and runs down your cheeks. When suddenly your thoughts were cut short. Aemond’s hand slips under your chin and tilts it back. He touch is light and cool against your fiery skin.

“Let me take your pain.” He whispers.

You look at his parted lips and close your eyes. Your body guides you closer to him. You feel his lips press in to yours. They were as soft as heather. He moves nearer to you his hair falling to the sides of his face. His scent washes over you. You raise your hand and cup his face with your palm. He pulls back. You whimper at the comfort slipping away from you. A soft blush spread across his face.

“Aemond, I had no idea you felt that way about me.” You say in shock.

He laughs lightly, “After everything I’ve done?”

“I thought it in jest.” Your reply honestly.

He brushes his hand through his hair, “And now?”

“I venture to say your intentions are more serious than I thought before?” Your words have the air of question to them.

Aemond rolls his eye. You have never considered there might be truth to the prince’s word before, but now you saw an opportunity. Revenge. A devious smile creeps up on your face.

“What is it?” Aemond tilts his head.

You lilt your voice, “Aemond, would you be so kind as to escort me to the next feast. I wish to dazzle Jace with the brilliance he has now lost.”

Aemond grins, “It would be my utmost pleasure, Lady Strong.”

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