#need more piercings to complete the set

[chiscaralight]

locker room shenanigans!

includes: nsfw! semi public sex. continuation of college athlete!gojo. you don’t need to read it but makes more sense if you do. fem!reader, knee humping, use of ‘princess’ fingering, shower sex, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, panty thief!gojo, don’t try this at home, they’re kinda cute aren’t they. can you tell i’m emotionally constipated

the air is warm as you make your way to the field. you're never here except for when your friends drag you to rallies and matches against your will. practice was over long ago, and you can see some of the regular team members walking off towards the campus. you're not even sure where you're supposed to go exactly, but you spot a familiar head of white hair sitting in the bleachers.

gojo greets you with a boyish smile as you walk over. you're a little nervous, seeing that the last time the two of you spoke, you were admitting how badly you wanted him. but you shake off the embarrassing memory as you close the distance between you.

he's as charming as ever when he greets you, voice silky smooth as he gets up. it's almost as if he didn't have you bent in almost every way possible a few days ago; he's speaking like he's known you for ages! to be honest, you're not paying too much attention to what he's saying. he's all huffy and sweaty from practice, and the way white strands are sprawled out and glued to his forehead is reminding you so much of how good he looked above you, icy blue eyes piercing into your soul as the two of you walk towards.. where are you walking to again?

"the locker rooms, duh."

"the male locker rooms? what do you need to do in there?"

"i need to take a shower. we need to take a shower."

when you finally reach the door, a little bit of dread settles in the pit of your stomach. was satoru gojo trying to tell you that you fucking stink? what the hell is he talking about? and should you even be there? there's probably a lot of naked men in there you're sure wouldn't be happy to see you. you're both just standing off to the side waiting for god-knows-what as you shift in your spot. you finally decide to ask why you're out here if the showers are in there. but before the words are out, you're being cut off by someone pushing the door open and sprinting out.

gojo explains that college athlete!choso is usually the last person in here, which means two things. one: he's going to run all the way to his girlfriend house now, and two: the locker room is completely empty.

the steam from the room throws you off a bit as he closes the door behind you. you're eyeing everything around you; setting your bag down on one of the benches as gojo pulls his shirt off. you try not to stare, but his frame is so mouth-watering that you can't even look away before he catches you staring. your cheeks flush and you decide one of the used towels on the ground is much more interesting than whatever he's doing. he thinks it's so cute just how shy you are. have you forgotten his dick was down your throat less than a week ago already?

of course, you haven't, but that doesn't change the fact that this is so awkward for you! clearly, he's enjoying this way more than you are, because he can't even hide that shit-eating grin that takes over his lips as he makes his way over to you. his hand is guiding your chin up to look at him warily, and your eyes are closing again as his lips find yours.

your body is practically melting against his when his fingers find your waist, and he hums into your mouth. you kiss so sweetly for someone with such a sharp tongue, but hell keep the snarky remarks for when you're too fucked out to retort. gojo is pulling away way too soon, and you pout as he avoids the way you chase his lips. he's softly pushing you towards one of the lockers, pressing your back against the cool metal; in heavy contrast to the heat dancing all over your body from the room and his touch. you gasp when he slides his knee between your legs and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth, wet tongue gliding against yours as you unconsciously grind onto him.

you're trapped between a rock and a hard place. the rock being his cock, because you can feel how hard he's getting from rubbing against you. that, coupled with the fact his knee is brushing your clothed cunt just right, and you're barely able to kiss back. your broken whimpers are making him twitch in his pants hard. he really did want to take his time, maybe tease you just a little, but everything about you is just so addicting. you whine as his warmth leaves your body, but you're quickly distracted by his fingers hooking the waistband of your pants. kicking them off, you're pulling his wrist to draw him closer again.

your breath hitches as his knuckles brush against the damp spot on your panties. they're soft, pale pink and he makes a mental note to pocket them when he gets them off you later. shifting them to the side, he makes quick work of circling around your sopping entrance, never fully dipping his finger past a few millimeters and it’s driving you insane.

“stop teasing, satoru.”

“oh, we’re on first-name basis now?” and he chortles at the way you lack a response. you can barely think of what to say before he’s flipping you over, and your face is now in close contact with.. not him. he’s too close for you to shift your head to see what he’s about to do, but he answers your mental question by plunging two fingers deep into your cunt fairly quickly.

you can’t catch the moan that rips from your throat as he starts to move, and you’re already a mess from his starting pace. gojo can feel you dripping down his palm and how desperately you’re trying to pull away, but his hand is locked between your body and the locker. not like he planned to stop anyway, but he’s a little offended seeing you struggle to get out of his grip. he’s sliding another finger in as his head dips down to your ear.

“if you stop movin’ around so much, it'll be much easier for the two of us.”

“i-it’s too much-“

“none of that. you took me so well last time, i'm sure you can do it again.”

he doesn’t even give you time to respond before he’s curling his fingers hard. he’s basically knuckles deep in you, and your cunt is starting to flutter hard around his digits. you’re using your free hand to grip his wrist, unable to form words as your orgasm crashes down over you. you’re going eyes are pressed shut as the waves of pleasure roll over you, and you swear the man above you is grinding against your exposed ass.

it’s his fingers pulling out of your cunt that has your eyesight returning, and you’re locking gaze with him as he slides those three fingers deep into his mouth. his mouth travels down his palm to his mid-forearm, just where your release stopped before he managed to catch up. gojo releases his mouth from his skin with a satisfying pop, and he sighs in relief while he licks his lips.

“now, you need a shower.”

one of gojo's greatest traits is how easy he is to talk to. it’s why so many people have such a good impression of him from just one conversation, and why the two of you are bantering like he didn’t just finger the shit out of you and then eat your cum before your very eyes.

you’re desperately trying to get away from him in this too-small space. he’s convinced you’re insanely ticklish from the way you react when he touches you, and what better way to check other than when you’re completely naked? the only thing saving you now is the fact that the floor is dry, otherwise you would have bashed your head into the ground trying to get out of there.

satoru is insanely offended you’re trying to escape from his grasp again, so instead he’s pulling your body flush against his just under the shower. he stretches an arm back towards the valves and you’re pressing your face into his chest to stop the water from getting into your eyes. it’s getting much warmer faster than you thought, and you’re melting in his hold once more.

he’s nudging your head away from the stream, so he can press his lips to yours. your hand trails up to the back of his head, and your fingers softly scratch his undercut. you’re coyly darting your tongue out to brush against his lip, and he parts them for you to go on. gojo is trying his hardest not to smile as you concentrate on working your tongue against his. those large hands of his are palming the fat of your ass as he pushes his own tongue into your mouth and you whine. he pays no mind to it though, continuing his actions until he’s sure you’re getting stupidly restless under his hold.

“do you trust me?”

you shake your head no. frantically.

“too bad. you’re gonna need a lot of faith in me for this.”

and he was right, you do need a lot of faith in him. because your hands are tightly holding the slim metal pipe of the shower as he raises your hips up.

this is way too risky. you could get really injured; or die! you’re not too keen on having ‘death by failed shower sex’ or your headstone, and the thought alone is enough for you to tell him to put you down.

but once his mind is made up, it’s made up. he just shushes you and tells you to close your eyes, imagine the body of the shower is his sheets! you were gripping onto those pretty hard last time, weren’t you? it’s all in your mind. you should tell him to fuck off right then and there, but his cockhead is already bullying its way into your cunt with an ease that should be illegal.

you’re putting the damn shower to shame compared to how wet you are. gojo is hissing at the warmth enveloping his cock when he finally bottoms out. honestly, he could stay like this forever, just nestled in the heat of your dizzying cunt. but he knows your arms will give out soon enough; so fuck you as best as he can for the time you can keep your body up, like a little reward.

the flow of water hitting your lower back is nothing in comparison to the way he’s pounding into your cunt. he’s holding you low and angling up, and his fat tip is painfully poking that one spongy spot that has your vision spotting. you’re almost glad you’re facing away from him because you look like a fucking mess; open mouth and cross-eyed from the sheer pleasure of it all. your noises are reverberating against the walls and you would usually be ashamed, but there’s nothing on your mind other than holding yourself up and the fat cock that’s currently stretching you out.

satoru is more than impressed, you’re lasting much longer than he thought. he’s resting his forearm against your belly so he can release his other hand and stretch up to pinch at your nipples. you’re sobbing at this point, and he’s feigning concern, asking if you’re okay. the only thing you can respond with is a broken noise. he’s content with how much that brain of yours is focused on him, so he taps your side with two fingers before speaking.

“gonna put you down real quick, okay?”

and you’re so quick to cry out a no, begging him not to stop.”

“relax, princess. just wanna switch positions. your arms hurt, don’t they?”

you don’t register the strain in your arms until after your feet hit the ground. you groan, massaging the fat of your upper arms until you’re getting hit in the face with the shower stream. you’re quickly shifting away, wiping at your eyes like a little kid.

“fuck you.”

“i’m trying.” he snorts, as he places his hands behind your knees. you place your arms on his shoulders and jump, and he mutters a there you go under his breath. you’re slightly higher than he is, but your faces are still so close. he’s fucking stunning, hooded eyes trained on your tits that he’s eye level with as he pushes up into you for the nth time today. your eyes are fluttering shut as his lips close around your nipple, and his hips start to move.

it’s hot, he’s hot, the water is hot and your entire body is on fire with bliss as he pistons in and out of you. his mouth is alternating between each of your sensitive buds, and you’re sighing in contentment at the delicious pace he’s set. he’s still finding a way to push against that sensitive spot over and over, and your orgasm is starting to brew in the pits of your belly.

gojo isn’t too far off himself, but he’s holding out, drinking up every little noise and twitch that you give him. he’s obsessed, mind solely focused on you, you, and you. you’ve been on his mind far long before he got to you that night, he’s going to enjoy every moment he has. whether it be bothering you out in public or milking your cunt on his cock, just like he’s about to do.

your fingers find his hair and pull back sharply as you smash your lips against his. your orgasm is quickly bubbling up and you’re moaning hard into his mouth when it comes. you’re barely able to kiss back, vision going white and voice cracking as you cum for the second time. your whole body is shaking, and just the feeling of you creaming around his cock is sending him over the edge, cum pouring into you in thick spurts.

you both just stay there for a bit, panting and catching your breaths until he puts you down. you grimace as his release leaks down your thigh, and he tuts in disappointment. what a waste.

it’s a comfortable silent walk out of there, different from how much you had to argue for him to give you back your underwear. which you didn’t get back by the way, you can see the edge of the pair sticking out of his pocket as he slings had bag over his broad shoulder. one of his clean shirts is hung around your neck, catching the water that’s dripping from your hair to prevent it from soaking your clothes, although you’re not too worried since the sun has mostly set and the number of students here have dwindled significantly.

you’re spacing out as the two of you walk, sticking your finger in one of the belt loops of his pants. you’re still looking forward when satoru smiles down at you, sliding his arm around your waist.

and you said you hated him. what a joke.

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.

word count. 1.7k

note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .

tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.

it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.

sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.

you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.

your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.

sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.

the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.

the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.

a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.

“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.

not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”

you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.

that same smile completely disappears over time.

“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.

sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.

it’s getting tiresome.

“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.

crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.

before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.

your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;

“do you love me?”

there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.

sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.

a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.

a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.

you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.

you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.

“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.

you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.

what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.

but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.

the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.

especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.

sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.

“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”

sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.

your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.

“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.

he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.

sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.

“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”

you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.

the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;

that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.

“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.

you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.

[hayw1res]

𖦹 ` 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝅄 ; synopsis : von lycaon is a true gentleman, he would never act on his selfish desires on his master. that is until mating season rolls around…

𝅄 ; warnings : 18+ , knotting , mating press , mentions of breeding “pregnancy and pups” , p in v , unprotected sex , light predator x prey , slight dubcon but everything is consensual , animalistic urges , slight fluff at the end

𝅄 ; a/n : my first fic on this account, i do hope you enjoy! my requests are open of course. not proofread ; sorry for any errors!

NEW ERIDU, is home to many individuals and home to many different factions. One of those being Victoria Housekeeping . You found yourself at the mercy of those individuals from time to time, especially the ever so proper Von Lycaon. A gentleman through and through , who isn’t afraid of protecting his dear master from the depths of the hollows where you often find yourself after conducting research.

Now, you knew better not to get too involved in any of his personal business, but when he sent a sudden notice of absence it worried you. Why on earth would he need to leave? For how long? What was wrong with him? You had to know, as his close friend and well.. esteemed patron. That’s what lead you to meet at the place you knew would have your answers. Strangely enough, none of the girls were home either, not even Ms Alexandrina.

It sent a shiver down your spine as you crept through the empty halls, it was silent..eerie. It was almost perfect for their faction at least but even for them this seemed a little far fetched. A little too silent for your liking. You could hear the way your heel clicked and clacked against the concrete floor beneath you. It was dark, the sun set a while ago..the moon shined bright through one of the cracked windows, the cold hair caused your hairs to raise and goosebumps to form. Why was everything suddenly so much scarier?

You just needed to find Lycaon and deliver the basket of treats you made for him , to hopefully quell whatever illness he described in his latest message as to why he had to be distant for a while. You turned the corner, only a few feet away from the room of the wolf thiren when you heard a growling. It pierced through your ears as the only thing breaking the eerie silence, that and now your increased heartbeat. You gasp, It sounded like he was in pain.. you didnt want him to feel pain anymore! You were just here to help.

You pick up the pace almost speed walking to his door, it was locked. You turn the handle again and again, calling out to him to let you in! To let you cure his sickness. Oh how naive and ignorant you are. The wolf was no longer the pristine and well groomed man you usually met , but more an untamed beast of pure and undeniable lust. The door swung open, almost off its hinges as he towered above you. Did he get taller? His chest was exposed, his once clean attire was discarded in rags behind him. He panted , his fangs almost dripping in saliva as he looked at you like you were his meal.

You didnt know why your legs burned as you ran away from the beast, you didn’t even know why you were running to begin with. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you heard his heavy footsteps behind you, no less giving you a lead. You knew Lycaon could catch up to you if he truly wanted to. But this wasn’t Lycaon this was someone—something else. You blanked, which way did you come from? Where were you? You made the mistake of standing idle while an animal hunted you. His breathing was ragged in your ear as his clawed hand tightened around you waist yet he didnt hurt you, in fact it was the opposite.

“Stay.” He finally spoke, his voice was almost unrecognizable as the rest of his appearance. His fur was unkept, his eyes were almost completely black as he stared down at you..but the small part of him was still there- that still wanted to protect you, his master. He knew exactly how to, he knew how to protect you from everyone else, everyone who wasn’t him—every other thiren or human out there who dared to claim you. No. He would do it first before them all.

Completely compromised, you’re almost forced in position with your face touching the hard cold floor and his hands forcibly tearing apart your garments. You squeal, you try and break free and tell Lycaon to calm down! Your pleads fall deaf to his ears, the only sense he can make out is your scent. Arousal, fear.. it was a deadly mix for a wolf, it made him crave you more. His hands were somehow soft against your plush skin, playing with the fat of your thighs as he forced your body in every position he could until he was satisfied. You couldn’t help but feel your core leak at the sight of him when you’re finally on your back. His cock was large and swelling, pulsing over your entrance as he tried to hold back every urge he could until he knew you were ready.

His long digits found way into your core, it stun as he dragged them in and out, you knew you needed more than this you needed him. “Ly—Lycaon” You’d call, forcing him to throw out every thought telling him to take his time. You needed him as he needed you, and who was he to deny his master their desire? He almost couldn’t resist when your walls clamped around his thick member, his saliva dripped down onto your exposed chest- coating your mounds with the liquid as his hand came up to massage it in. His pace began slowly, he still cared of course. You could feel everything, every thrust, every twitch—you could feel it all.

Gradually he sped up, he started to thrust at an unforgiving pace, his moans breathless and mixing with your downright pornographic voice, he never felt so much pleasure in his life—all that buildup truly meant something now that he can unload everything he had into you, yes, yes hed give you his all. He would fill you to the brim and get you nice and pregnant with his kin—with his pups. You could do that right?

“you-you will mother..mother my kin—wont you master?” He purred, his tongue lapping at your neck as he started to fuck you like an animal- like the beast he truly was. You could barely speak back, your brain was practically mush at this point. You could only cling to the little you could as your poor cunt got abused by his unforgiving pace. His knot began to swell against the base of his cock, you could feel it prodding at your entrance— no, you couldn’t take this! Not when you could barely take his cock. That didn’t matter to Lycaon though, you would take it whether you liked it or not. His hands came to your thighs yet again but this time to force them beside your head, your teary eyed fucked out face only urged him on.

“yes—yes! take my knot.. my beloved-! my master—please, please let me in..” He’d growl before biting down on your neck , you scream as you feel that familiar burst of energy shock through you- the slick from your cum and arousal created the perfect substance for his knot to slide inside of you..filing you to the brim with his cum. He licked at your neck as his tail wagged behind him furiously.. he finally found someone suitable for his kin.. for his love..for his desires to be fulfilled.

He couldn’t let you go now, not even long after he calmed down. In reality, he was terrified on seeing you now that he was in the right state of mind..what an idiot he was. “Master—I deeply apologize for my behavior. This is why I notified everyone about the full moon” His voice made you chuckle, of course.. the damn moon. “Master-?” He called again, afraid he may have broken you. You surely were “broken” at least that’s how your body felt.

“Lycaon”

“Yes Master-?”

“Carry me to bed”

“Of course..I am at your service”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Pretty in Pink || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @rafescurtainbangz

Summary: Just you amused by Rafe and Ward’s phone call.

Warnings: suggestive, reader n rafe smoking, swearing,

Word count: 742

A/n: these canon scenes are so fun to write 😭 lmk if you want more of these <333

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

"That's rough. I mean, yeah, it could've been anyone, right?" Rafe furrowed his eyebrows, trying to appear nonchalant. "Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people," Ward retorted sharply, his frustration palpable even over the phone.

Rafe shrugged, his indifference almost theatrical. "Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway. So, who cares?" Ward let out a loud exhale, running a hand down his face. The annoyance in his voice was unmistakable, and Rafe took a perverse satisfaction in knowing he was getting under his father's skin. "Okay, Rafe, okay."

Just then, you stepped outside, your pretty pink tennis set hugging your figure perfectly. A cigarette was cradled between your index and middle fingers, and you brought it to your lips, inhaling deeply. Your eyes locked onto Rafe as you exhaled a plume of smoke, your gaze unwavering.

Rafe grinned, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as you sauntered towards the couch. "That's done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you," Ward continued, his voice a mix of frustration and command.

Rafe pulled the phone away from his ear briefly. "It's Ward," he informed you, sitting down on the couch, as if it wasn’t already obvious from the tone of the conversation. You hummed in acknowledgment, kicking your feet up on his lap. Rafe put the phone on speaker, leaning back as Ward’s voice filled the room.

Rafe glanced at you, a smirk playing on his lips, clearly enjoying the chaos he was stirring. "I want you to sign for the East River property. When that's completed, shut down the offices—" Ward's commanding tone reverberated through the speaker, each word laced with finality.

Rafe rolled his eyes dramatically, a gesture that made you stifle a giggle. "Yeah, no, I—actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I'm thinking maybe we should keep the offices."

A heavy silence fell, the kind that made every second feel like an eternity. Rafe's eyes stayed on you, watching as you took delicate puffs from your cigarette, the smoke curling elegantly in the air.

"What?" Ward's voice finally cut through the quiet, laden with confusion and annoyance. "Yeah, I'm thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while, really grow the company. I think it'd be good for us, right?" Rafe's tone was casual, almost nonchalant, but you could sense the underlying cunning.

On the other end, you heard Ward groan, a sound full of exasperation, followed by a long, weary exhale. The tension was almost tangible, crackling through the phone. "He's not too happy about it, huh?" you observed, a wry smile playing on your lips. You extended the cigarette toward Rafe, offering it to him. He leaned in, taking a slow, deliberate drag, the tip glowing brightly as he inhaled.

He hummed in response, a low, satisfied sound that matched the glint of amusement in his eyes. As Rafe exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze never left yours. You could see the thrill in his eyes, the satisfaction he derived from ruffling his father's feathers. "Who is that?" Ward's voice pierced the air, sharp and demanding, as you and Rafe exchanged a glance.

"Hey, Ward!" you greeted him with a saccharine sweetness, your tone a deliberate contrast to the tension that hung in the room. "Rafe, this is supposed to be a private conversation—" "For fuck's sake, Dad, she knows everything already," Rafe interjected, his eyes rolling in exasperation, a gesture that elicited a soft chuckle from you.

Ward's frustration was palpable, his voice tinged with impatience. "Listen to me, Rafe—" Rafe didn't hesitate to cut him off, his tone firm and commanding. "No. No, no, you listen, okay?" His hands moved instinctively to rest on your thighs, his touch both grounding and possessive. You felt a surge of warmth at his touch, a silent reassurance amidst the tension.

"You listening?" Rafe leaned in, his gaze unwavering as he reached to place the phone on the coffee table, his actions deliberate and decisive. "You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm making myself useful, alright?" Rafe's gaze on his phone was intense, his voice commanding, as he asserted his authority.

As Rafe continued speaking, outlining his intentions with a firmness that brooked no argument, you decided to get up and fetch the ashtray from the other side of the coffee table. "I can do shit, you know? Explore options, so for the-" As you walked past him, focused on your task, you suddenly felt the sharp sting of Rafe's hand slapping your ass, causing you to yelp in surprise.

"-for the benefit of all, I think I'm gonna hang out for a while, okay?" Rafe's voice carried on, his words interrupted only momentarily by your startled reaction. The mixture of surprise and amusement danced in your eyes as you turned to face him, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Rafe, listen to me. You are there for one reason and one reason only. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay?" Ward's voice had escalated in volume, clearly expressing his displeasure with Rafe's defiance.

"That is our one play. It's—it's our only play. And if you cannot do it—" Ward's words were abruptly cut off by Rafe's interjection, his irritation and anger palpable as he stood up, his movements sharp and agitated. "If I can't do it?" Rafe's voice echoed with incredulity, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Then what? Then what?" he exclaimed, his tone laced with both sarcasm and defiance.

"You gonna hop on a plane? Come down here, huh?" Rafe paced back and forth on the porch as you watched from the couch, amusement dancing in your eyes. "I mean, it'll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting, Ward fucking Cameron, everyone!" Rafe's voice boomed with exaggerated theatricality, his arms thrown wide in mock grandeur, eliciting a snicker from you.

"Oh my god, he lives! He's back from the dead!" Rafe continued, his words punctuated by his animated gestures as you watched with amusement, thoroughly entertained by your boyfriend's antics. With a scoff, Rafe turned towards you, his expression resolute. "I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I'm wearing it, and it's my time to step up, okay? You're dead." And with that, he abruptly hung up the phone, tossing it onto the couch beside you.

You opened your arms, inviting him in for a hug, and without hesitation, he collapsed onto you, inhaling your signature perfume. Your nails traced soothing patterns on his back as he nestled against you, his frustration still palpable as he muttered against your skin, "God, he's fucking annoying," eliciting a chuckle from you.

Checking your watch, you sighed. "Babe, I gotta go, the girls will be waiting for me," you informed him, attempting to disentangle yourself from his embrace, but he stubbornly refused to budge.

"Where'd you get this set from? This new?" Rafe's fingers toyed with the waistband of your skirt, the fabric teasingly brushing against your skin. "Mhm, you like it?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Do I like it? Fuck, of course I like it, baby. You're so pretty in pink," Rafe's gaze lingered appreciatively on your body before meeting your eyes once more. "Tell the girls you'll be a bit late," he murmured, his hands trailing up your skirt teasingly, causing you to playfully throw your head back in feigned annoyance. "Fine," you acquiesced, though the mischievous glint in your eyes betrayed your true feelings.

[prettycottagequeer]

ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)

SO these I should start on asap:

50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make

100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week

150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)

200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)

these can wait longer:

300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect

500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)

1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks

2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.

Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese

here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)

How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks

I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.

that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.

the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.

On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started

[diejager]

Hiii，I really like your story about Ghost x bunny！reader.Can you please do moreee🥺🥺🥺💖🐰

Needy Bunny Cw: heat/mating cycle, breeding kink, rough sex, mating press, doggy style, unprotected sex, PinV, tell me if I missed any.

You clawed at the sheets, hips bucking back, rutting against the heated palm of his scarred and calloused hand, fingers filling you so well. Your bed smelled like him, something familiar you associated with comfort and safety, gorging on his rich and powerful scent. He smelled like blood and gunpowder, itching you sensitive nose, and the soft tone of something woody —an addictive bourbon and calm sandalwood.

You crooned softly, burying your face deeper into his many shirts, mask and blanket, all infused with his aged scent and sweat, masking you in his scent, drowning in the delicious smell of him. You were clouded by a primal need, to be bred and nurse little kits in your stomach, you didn’t have any sensible thought inside your head, all you wanted was to smell like Ghost and bear his kits by becoming his.

When thrown into the throes of your heat - vicious and unforgiving - you became dumb and needy, wandering the halls of the base for Ghost and pawing at him until he brought you to his room. The moment he closed and locked the door, you were naked and kneeling on his bed, face down on his pillow, drooling over the musky cloth and ass up, showing him how wet and needy you were, cunt winking and clit throbbing from the cool air in his room —it helped with the warmth you exhumed from your heat, body burning so much calories to sustain you during it.

You were deaf to Ghost’s degrading words, uncaring by how mean his words were or how rough he was, all that mattered was that he was using you, his fingers straight as they drove in, hitting your g-spot. Slick dripped from his wrist, your sweet cunt oozing it, transparent and salty fluid tasting sugary on his tongue, his mask rolled up his nose to press the flat of his tongue against your twitching nub, swirling around it wile he pumped you with three, thick fingers.

You whined when he pulled out his fingers, tongue pushing into your hole and slurping down your slick, swallowing your sweet cum in gulps. He drank up your little mewls, sound more like a cat than a bunny, his hand roved over your thighs and around the swell of your ass, spanked red from acting like a little whore in front of other men, and grabbed your snowball-like tail, harshly pulling on it to get a reaction out of you. You yipped loudly, back arching and trying to get out of his tight hold on your sensitive tail, the twitching ball stuck between his fingers even as he pressed the round head of his cock against your clenching hole, tip nudging your entrance —teasing you.

“Please-” you wailed, sobbing for relief you knew that only he could give you, something to fill you up and keep you full until this heat passed. “Ghost, please-”

He kept you still, one hand on your hip and the other still tugging at your tail, he drove in with a sharp snap, thrusting his whole length in one, rough go that had you keening, loud, whorish sounds slipping from your tongue as your eyes rolled back, walls squeezing him as you came. He was warm, cock snugly sitting inside of you, he was as heavy as he was thick, the girth covered in veins and the base in trimmed, musky hair.

He took a few experimental thrusts, rough and unsteady, before he bottomed out completely, heavy balls slapping your engorged clit. Ghost set deep and hard pace, his sculpted hips snapping against your sensitive ass, using his grip on you to hold the pace, plunging in, the leaky tip of his uncut cock slamming into your spongy cervix, veins scratching at your clenching walls, frenum piercings, three starting from the base up rubbing you deliciously.

With how high stung you were, body shuddering and cunt spamming with another upcoming climax, it didn’t take you long before you came a second time. Bursting with a cry, legs kicking and trembling beneath you, you bucked your hips against him, pushing him deeper into you. You were squirming so much so that he had to turn you over, manhandling you from your presented position to a mating press, bent in half with your legs hanging from his broad shoulders, taking him again and again - even as you came twice or thrice, coating him in your juice, his navel and balls wet down to his thighs - until he had his fill.

“You want a kit, is that it?” He growled, forearm pressing down on your throat without putting any lethal force, simply to hold you down, to keep you restrained to your nest, “Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll knock you up, yeah? Put a little rabbit in that cunt of yours, breed you nice and deep.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan

[back2bluesidex]

We Need Practice - JJK (18+)

A Sequel to Novice.

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Fluff, smut

Wordcount: 2.1k+

Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 

You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 

But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 

Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 

With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 

And that is exactly what he does. 

Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 

But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 

After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 

If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 

Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 

It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 

As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 

So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 

“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 

The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 

“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 

You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 

Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 

Wait. is he? Taking you out? 

Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 

So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 

Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 

The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 

Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 

Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 

Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 

His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 

“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 

“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 

“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 

You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 

Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 

“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 

The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 

Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 

The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 

He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 

5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 

It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 

Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 

You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 

Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 

When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 

“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 

His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 

Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 

“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 

“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 

Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 

Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 

“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 

Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I think I would love it too.” 

And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 

He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 

His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 

And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 

He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 

“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 

It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 

You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 

“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 

Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  

“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 

“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 

“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 

“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 

“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 

His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 

Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 

Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 

“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 

One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 

Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 

“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 

“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 

“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 

You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 

“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 

Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  

“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 

“What? I-I don’t..” 

“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 

He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 

At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 

“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 

Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 

You really are a novice. 

Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 

As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 

Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 

With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 

And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 

“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 

“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 

You certainly need more practice with him. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[pucksandpower]

Burn, Baby! Burn!

Lando Norris x firefighter!Reader

Summary: Lando almost burns down his house (twice) and meets the throughly exasperated love of his life in the process

The shrill screech of the alarm pierces through the calm of the fire station. You jolt upright in your chair, coffee spilling across the table. Another firefighter bursts into the room.

“We’ve got a call! Some bloke has managed to set his kitchen on fire boiling pasta!”

You shake your head in disbelief as you follow your colleague out to the truck. Who in their right mind manages to burn water?

The sirens wail as you weave expertly through the London streets. You’ve lived here your whole life and know every nook and cranny. As you near the address, plumes of smoke curl up in the distance. Sure enough, you pull up to a posh townhouse billowing with black smoke.

You hurry to unravel the hose, pulling on your heavy fire gear with practiced ease. As you blast water at the licking flames, they hiss and retreat. Within minutes, the fire is out.

Your captain does a sweep of the place to check for any remaining embers. You start to inspect the damage. The kitchen is completely demolished — cabinets charred and counters blackened. And there, in the middle, stands a lanky man with a mop of brown hair. His eyes are wide as saucers as he takes in the ruin.

You stride over. “What in blazes happened here?”

“I, uh, was just trying to make some pasta,” he stammers.

You spot a scorched pot in the sink. “Pasta? All you need for that is water, salt, and noodles. How did you manage to incinerate the whole bloody kitchen?”

“Honestly, I’m not really sure,” he says, raking a hand through his hair. “I filled the pot with water, turned on the stove, went to get my phone and next thing I knew, the place was up in flames!”

You rub your temples, frustration simmering. This overgrown child clearly can’t be trusted alone.

“What’s your name?” You ask.

“Lando. Lando Norris.”

Lando Norris … why does that sound familiar? You rack your brain trying to place it.

“Well Lando, unless you fancy burning down the rest of London, I suggest you leave the cooking to the takeaway. Or hire a personal chef or something, sure looks like you can afford it.”

Lando chuckles at that. There’s a twinkle in his eye that irks you.

“Will do, firefighter ...”

“Y/N,” you supply.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful firefighter,” he says with a wink.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. The last thing you need right now is an incompetent flirt.

Your radio crackles to life. “Y/L/N, need you to hang back with the resident until a building inspector can come assess the safety.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath before responding. “Copy that.”

You turn back to Lando. “Looks like you’re stuck with me till the inspector shows up.”

“Well I certainly won’t complain about that,” Lando says with a dimpled grin.

You plop down on his couch, which by some miracle remains unscathed. Lando sits down next to you, angling his body in your direction.

“So, do you rescue fiery damsels in distress often?”

You snort. “Wouldn’t exactly call you a damsel. But putting out idiots’ fires? More often than you’d think.”

Lando clutches his chest in faux offense. “Idiot? I’m wounded!”

Despite yourself, you feel your lips quirking upwards. There’s something endearing about him, even if he is concerningly incompetent.

“Gotta admit, this is a new one,” you gesture around. “Never been called for someone catching water on fire before.”

“Ah well, I like to keep things interesting,” Lando says with a wink.

You’re about to respond when your radio crackles again. “The inspector’s been held up across town. Gonna be another 30 minutes.”

You lean your head back and groan. Lando perks up beside you.

“Well, lucky me! More time with the lovely firefighter.”

You toss a decorative pillow at him. “You’re incorrigible.”

Lando just laughs, dodging the pillow with ease. “So tell me, Y/N, what made you become a firefighter?”

You debate shutting him down, but something about the open curiosity on his face makes you open up.

“My dad was a firefighter,” you explain. “Some of my earliest memories are of playing at the fire station with the other firefighters’ kids while our dads were on calls. I was maybe 5 or 6 when my dad let me slide down the fire pole for the first time.”

You smile at the memory. “I knew then that I wanted to be just like my dad. I thought firefighters were the coolest people in the world.”

Lando is watching you intently as you speak.

“What about you?” You ask. “What is it you do, besides wreak havoc in the kitchen?”

Lando smirks. “I’m a Formula 1 driver.”

Your eyes widen — no wonder his name is so familiar.

Lando looks pleased at your recognition. “So you’ve heard of me then?”

You nod. “Guess that explains how you can afford a posh place like this. Though I’d think a racing driver would have a bit more common sense in the kitchen.”

Lando shrugs sheepishly. “Never really had to fend for myself until now. I’m a bit hopeless at all things domestic.”

You shake your head in exasperation. “Been living off takeout, have you?”

“You know it,” Lando says with a wink.

You’re about to retort when the building inspector arrives. You greet him as Lando shows him around the thoroughly singed kitchen. After an extensive examination, the inspector deems the place safe, reminding Lando to get repairs done immediately.

With that settled, you make your way outside, Lando following at your heels.

“Don’t suppose I could get your number?” Lando asks as you reach the fire truck. “You know, in case I have any other domestic mishaps that require rescuing.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “How about I just pray we don’t meet again? Since that would likely mean you almost burned your place down … again.”

Lando clutches his chest in mock offence. “You wound me! And here I thought we were really hitting it off!”

Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” You pause, considering him for a moment. “But seriously … try not to burn the place down again, yeah? I’d rather not have to peel you off the floor next time.”

Lando grins. “I’ll do my best to keep the place flame-free. Though I can’t promise I won’t still need rescuing from time to time.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Take care of yourself, Lando Norris.”

As you hop into the fire truck and speed away, sirens blaring, you catch Lando waving out of the corner of your eye. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

What an absolute disaster of a man.

***

It’s been nearly two weeks since the incident at Lando’s place. You’ve replayed that day in your mind more times than you’d care to admit. There was just something about that hapless yet charming Lando Norris.

Speak of the devil — the fire alarm at the station suddenly blares to life.

“Never a dull day, eh?” Your captain jokes.

You hustle to gear up, a sense of deja vu washing over you. As you near the now familiar posh townhouse, plumes of smoke once again curl into the sky. Your disbelief grows when you see a very sheepish looking Lando standing outside.

He grimaces as your truck pulls up. “Before you ask, yes, it was me again.”

You leap out of the truck, pulling the hose as your team gets to work quelling the flames.

“What the hell happened this time?” You shout over the roar of water.

“I, uh, may have tried to microwave some leftovers,” Lando says, rubbing the back of his neck.

It only takes a few minutes to extinguish the fire and assess the damage. Thankfully, it seems contained to mostly the microwave this time. Lando leads you inside, where smoke still lingers in the air. Your eyes immediately zone in on the microwave, or rather, what’s left of it. The interior is completely blackened and melted.

You whirl on Lando. “Please tell me you didn’t put something metal in there.”

Lando winces. “Right, so, funny story. I may have left a fork in the takeaway box.”

You drag a hand down your face in exasperation. “Lando, are you actually incapable of functioning like a normal adult?”

He has the decency to look ashamed. “I know, I’m a disaster, truly. But in my defense, the microwave came with the place already. I didn’t even think to check for a manual or proper usage instructions.”

You snort. “I’m pretty sure not putting metal in the microwave is common sense.”

Lando shoves his hands in his pockets. “Suppose I don’t have much of that.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling a bit bad for berating him. He really is just hopeless, not malicious.

“Look, maybe it’s best you just avoid the kitchen altogether,” you suggest gently. “At least until you get some proper instruction.”

Lando nods enthusiastically. “You’re absolutely right. In fact, why don’t I just take you out for dinner? Be a lot safer than me bumbling about the kitchen.”

You cross your arms, biting back a smile. “Are you asking me out while I’m on duty?”

Lando’s eyes widen. “No no, of course not! I would never compromise your professionalism.”

You can’t help but grin. “I’m just teasing you.”

Lando looks relieved. “Right, sorry. But truly, I’d love to take you to dinner, if you’re open to it.” He smiles sheepishly. “I could certainly use the company of someone responsible in the kitchen.”

You consider him for a moment. There are about a million reasons you shouldn’t agree to this. But despite the situation, you find yourself charmed by Lando.

“Tell you what, why don’t you swing by the station once my shift is over in ...” You check your watch. “Four hours. You can ask me again then.”

Lando’s face lights up. “It’s a date! Well, hopefully, if you say yes.”

You chuckle and turn to leave, but Lando calls out your name. You glance back and he smiles warmly.

“Thank you again for rescuing me … in more ways than one.”

Four hours later, you’re wiping down the fire truck when an expensive sports car pulls up outside the station. Lando hops out, beaming when he spots you.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he calls out cheekily.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t you know this is a strictly no-playboys zone?”

Lando clutches his heart. “You wound me, Y/N! I’m much more than just extraordinarily good looks.”

“What good looks?” You challenge.

Lando strolls over and holds open the passenger door. “Have dinner with me and see for yourself.”

You pretend to consider it, then shrug. “Eh, why not. Beats more takeout on my couch.”

You hop into Lando’s flashy car and he zooms off towards the restaurant. Lando insists on opening every door for you and pulling out your chair. You poke fun at his over-the-top chivalry, but find it endearing nonetheless.

Over dinner, you learn there’s much more to Lando than his hapless antics. He’s unexpectedly clever, with a sharp wit to match. He’s passionate about racing, his eyes lighting up as he tells you about life on the circuit. And despite his lavish lifestyle, he’s remained remarkably down-to-earth.

Conversation flows easily between you two. You’re amazed at how you manage to lose track of time, the restaurant emptying out around you.

When Lando finally drives you home, you linger in the parking lot, neither of you wanting the night to end.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

Lando smiles. “Me too. Think it’s safe to say there were definitely some sparks between us.”

You groan at the terrible fire pun, shoving Lando playfully. His eyes gleam with mirth.

“In all seriousness, I’d love to see you again,” Lando says. “If you’re willing to take another chance on this walking fire hazard.”

You pretend to consider it. “Well, seeing as I’m trained to deal with hazards ...”

Lando perks up hopefully. You grin and lean over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I would love to see you again. And until then … just please stay away from anything flammable.”

***

A few months have passed since your unusual first encounters with Lando. To your surprise and delight, you’ve settled into an easy relationship that feels almost like second nature. Lando has been actively planning creative dates, seemingly determined to take you on adventures across London.

It’s been a whirlwind of posh restaurants, West End shows, helicopter rides, and more. Lando delights in lavishing you with exclusive experiences. While you appreciate the gestures, your favorite nights are spent cuddled on the couch playing video games.

You’ve helped Lando gain basic competency in the kitchen. He can now make scrambled eggs and pasta unsupervised. Progress.

In turn, Lando has taken an interest in your life as a firefighter, asking for crazy stories and even visiting you at the station with treats for those on shift. He greets you after work with hearty meals — takeaway warmed up in the oven without any explosions — a welcome respite from having to worry that you would come home to find his house burnt to a crisp.

You’re touched by how you’ve each become such a fixture in the other’s unusual life so quickly.

One morning, the two of you are lounging on Lando’s couch during a rare shared day off when he suddenly perks up.

“The British Grand Prix is in a few months! I know it might be tough for you to get the weekend off but I would love it if you could come,” Lando suggests excitedly.

Your eyes widen. “Seriously? I would love to see your world up close.”

Lando grins and pulls you in for a kiss. “It’s a date then! Fair warning though, the garage can get a bit chaotic. But I can’t wait to show you off to my team.”

You laugh. “Well in my line of work, chaotic is the norm. I think I can handle it.”

On race day, Lando picks you up in a sleek McLaren emblazoned with his number. You take in the organized chaos of the paddock, amazed by the scale of it all.

Lando guides you through the sea of team members prepping for the big day. He greets his mechanics warmly, introducing you with a hand on the small of your back.

“Lads, meet my girl Y/N,” Lando announces proudly.

The mechanics appraise you curiously. One whistles under his breath. “Nice catch, Lando. She’s clearly out of your league.”

You laugh as Lando flips him off good-naturedly.

Another mechanic, Dan, gestures to your athletic frame. “So what is it you do, Y/N? Personal trainer? Athlete? Fitness influencer?”

You smile wryly. “I’m a firefighter, actually.”

Dan gapes in disbelief. “A firefighter? No way! But you’re so ...” He vaguely gestures at you.

You quirk an eyebrow. “So what? Girls can’t be firefighters?”

Dan holds up his hands quickly. “No no, course not! Just didn’t expect it, is all.”

Lando grins and squeezes your shoulder. “She’s saved my arse more times than I can count.”

You laugh. “He’s not wrong. Man’s a walking fire hazard.”

Lando’s team ribs him fondly about his cooking mishaps. But you can tell they’re impressed, regarding you with newfound admiration.

“Go on then, show us what you can do!” Dan cajoles.

You grin mischievously. “If you insist.”

Before Dan can react, you swoop down and lift him effortlessly into a fireman’s carry. The other mechanics whoop and holler as Dan flails comically over your shoulder.

After a few seconds, you gently set a very flustered Dan back down.

Lando lets out a low whistle. “Have I mentioned how hot it is when you go all firefighter on me?”

You smirk. “Never gets old seeing you boys underestimate me.”

Dan rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, fair play. Reckon I earned that.”

You laugh good-naturedly and pat Dan on the back, assuring him no harm done. As you all chat, you notice Lando’s gaze lingering on you admiringly.

As race time nears, Lando has to start prepping with his team. But he keeps glancing over at you with a newfound awe. Your little display of strength clearly left an impression.

Soon it’s time for him to get in the car. You wish Lando luck with a quick kiss, giggling at the mechanics’ dramatic groans.

Once the race gets underway, you stand behind the monitors with Lando’s performance coach, cheering him on with every overtake. You join the crew in jumping to your feet when Lando crosses the chequered flag for an exhilarating podium finish. The garage explodes into celebration, and Lando sweeps you up into a spinning hug when he arrives.

“My good luck charm,” he proclaims, keeping you close as champagne sprays wildly.

Later at an afterparty for the drivers and teams, you sip cocktails under strings of lights. Lando proudly spins you around the dancefloor, making sure everyone can see you on his arm.

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” Lando murmurs into your hair.

You grin. “Might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well I’m saying it again. You’re incredible, Y/N. Today was so much better getting to share it with you.”

Your heart swells at the sincerity in Lando’s eyes. You cup his face gently.

“Couldn’t imagine a better first Grand Prix. Thank you for inviting me into this part of your world.”

Lando smiles softly. “You’re the best part of my world now.”

Over the following weeks, you start to notice Lando looking at you with a new hunger in his eyes. The easy affection between you has shifted into something more wanton and primal.

One night, as you’re cooking a simple pasta dish together, Lando comes up behind you, hands encircling your waist. He plants a trail of kisses down your neck as his grip tightens possessively.

You lean back into him with a pleased hum. “Well hello there.”

“Mmm, ever since I saw you lift that mechanic, I just keep thinking about all the ways you could put that sexy strength to use,” Lando murmurs against your skin.

You grin and turn in his arms. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me more about that?” You purr teasingly.

Lando crashes his lips to yours, backing you against the counter hungrily. You just barely remember to turn off the burner before completely losing yourself in the feel of him around you — one burnt pot of boiling water is more than enough for your relationship, thank you very much.

Later, lying spent and sated in Lando’s bed, he nuzzles against you. “Have to say, your skills in the bedroom rival your skills as a firefighter,” he jokes.

You swat his chest playfully. “Careful or I may have to break out some new moves on you.”

Lando’s eyes gleam. “Promise?”

You grin and roll on top of him, ready to stoke the flames between you once more. Though your relationship started unconventionally, it seems things with Lando will never stop burning hot.

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “PRETTY BOY.”

— expect the worst when whitney has a stupidly, dumb puppy love crush on his upperclassman that happens to be you and even more so, when you predictably take notice of it. but, remember— he asked for it first, didn’t he? 3.5k w.

— warnings? yeah, mildly dub-con, handjob in broad fucking daylight, somewhat exhibitionism although no one gets to see the stupid, pretty boy squirm and upperclassman male reader who’s sort of.. a bitch. y’know the drill by now, plus a younger whitney (still an adult, no worries. I’m not into that sorta shit.)

Like a clueless moth instinctually drawn towards a burning flame, he’s no goddamn different than the clingy idiots who can’t seem to automatically take a hint when given so in their direction— y’know, the ones he’d audibly snicker and scoff at due to the sheer embarrassment, disgustingly obvious puppy love streaked along their flushed faces as they mindlessly follow the other’s every move. Innocently peer up in search of their crush’s approval like some sort of brain dead dog whose sole purpose is to joyfully please their master. Hell, it’s gross, and the blonde doesn’t make it any more difficult to showcase his wrongly placed dislike for it— yeah, by the repeated gagging noises spilling forth from his open maw.

“It’s nauseating to watch, stinks up the whole room with those big, puppy, doe eyes”— he’d openly say with an absent shrug of his broad shoulders, glinting, barely visible glimpse of the metallic barbell freshly pierced upon his curved tongue proving his judgemental statements to be otherwise.. fuckin’ hypocritical, no? ‘Cuz, isn’t that same piercing found in his mouth done due to one, single, stray comment you aimlessly made by chance?

Not like your liking of things plays a grand role in whatever he does, trouble he’s immediately roped into, fuck— no, definitely not! It’s a stupid, damn coincidence is what it is, nothing more and nothing less either. No need to uselessly pry any further in the meaning of his baseless actions. Just.. happened to have it done on the same consequential day you confidently expressed your idea that he’d get one because— y’a said it’d look good on him, didn’t you? And, look here, he fuckin’ did it like some cheap mutt. Obediently parted his rosy lips for your viewing pleasure to willingly prove to your pretty eyes that he truly went along with your absently made suggestion, for real. Gleefully hung upon your every important word like his life depended on it— god, it isn’t like that, okay?

An upperclassman he’s briefly looked up to is all you are, all you’ve ever been for that matter, and he’ll punch the shitty, fuckin’ lights out of any big mouthed idiot who dares to say so otherwise. Right in the guts for spouting out complete, nonsensical bullshit, alright?

Or is it time to reluctantly admit it with a bashful blush apparent upon his contorted features— accompanied by gritting teeth stubbornly grinding together in a futile refusal of his shoddy, unwanted sentiments burrowed deep within his stuttering heart? As if he’d ever would in your presence, which he possibly can’t help himself, to childishly imitate your gestures in the withering hopes that’d you scarcely notice his thinly veiled efforts, acts filled with meaning.

Well, well.. Whitney, the supposedly cold and untouchable bully here isn’t so unique nor different from those idiotic dumbasses he’d routinely poke fun at, huh? Time to face the embarrassingly evident reality set before him, whether his gaze dares to instinctively stray away or not from the unsettling truth— ah, good thing you’re here to seamlessly guide him on the right path, ain’t that right?

As for the so-called, morally ethical path he’s hopelessly talking about.. Perhaps, that’s a plain, ol’ lie he’ll repeatedly tell himself of so considering your shared reputations at hand. More likely than not, often referred to — as much as the nickname itself has the tip of his ears prickling scarlet, noisily yelling at the fuckers who cheekily name him that — your little, dumb puppy. Fuck, he’s not! The day he, himself, Whitney of all people, wordlessly bows down to the height of someone’s heel frustratingly grinding atop of his head, is the day one can loudly claim with unbridled conviction, that he’s officially lost his goddammit mind, that’s what.

Listen, you’re the one who faithfully promised and guaranteed your unwavering protection if he stuck to your sides like some fuzzy pet, so he did the obvious choice. Specially when met with the shitty conditions this rundown town, definitely shady for that matter, is. Rather be silently stamped as the ‘sly follower’ who went along with the smartest choice presented to ‘em— your offer, by the way — than some nobody seamlessly forgotten on the dirtied streets. Least, that’s what likely replays on and on in his mind like some cheap, broken record to dumbly convince his unmoving mind of what this annoyingly persistent feeling is deep within the pit of his quivering tummy. Annoying, ain’t it?

Speakin’ of tummy, you sure are touchy-feeling with him, aren’t ya? Not that he necessarily minds nor will outwardly admit the slightest shivers that comes to grace the entirety of his figure when met with the briefest grazes of your fingertips flush against his bare skin. Likes the physical contact intimately shared between you two? Fuck no— just keeping himself on your good side in case you were to suddenly discard him like you habitually do with your other.. nameless toys, which he doesn’t possess enough fucks to bother learning their names. As long as your flickering gaze doesn’t happen to stray too far from his, he’s actually, pretty content.

‘Course, it did progressively start off with the sorta things you’d absentmindedly do with your numerous friends. Brush of his golden strands glimmering against the gleaming sunlight— shit, even acted out like some cheesy rom-com at the way his face instantly heated up, glimpse of vulnerability you seem to so easily catch on with him and fuck, does he detests it— truly does like no other. Still, lets y’a carelessly stroke your fingers throughout the mess of a hairstyle the delinquent wears, even fucking.. tenderly pushed a single, stray strand of hair behind his burning ear. Shoulders instinctively drawn up in sheer defence at the tension residing within him because, really, how do y’a expect him to relax and ease up when it’s with you?

“What? What is it? Do I have shit in my hair or somethin’?” Oh yeah, nice goin’ on that fuckin’ stupid question of his, huh? Flush adorning the length of his face— god, even down towards his neck too— immediately deepening at the crude choice of words. Might casually speak so with anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s got this instinctual urge to not come off as some try-hard desperately trying to butter you up in hopes of your returned approval of him.

“Hm? It’s nothing, I just think you’d look cute if you grew out your hair a little bit. Don’t you think?” Ah, and there you go— with your surprising compliments spoken out of the blue like that.

“Cute?? Are you seriously tryna fuck with me right now?” Defensive mechanism or whatever to draw up that blank conclusion since this is just about the first time any sort of adjective resembling that of ‘adorable’ by the way, could’ve been made to plainly describe a rowdy, unrelenting boy such as Whitney.

“What? You don’t think so? I think you’re cute as shit, Ney-ney.” That fuckin’ nickname again, god. Quit it, will ya? And, don’t try to tentatively lean closer in his personal space when calmly making that stupid remark too! Your goddamn— ah, hot breath effortlessly heating up the shell of his ear, curled lips almost, insistently pressed against his cheek. “Real fucking cute, actually. Definitely cuter than the average boy that’s for sure— prettier too, but you’ve got too much of a stick up your ass to admit that, don’t you?”

At this point, you’re practically taunting him, and he would’ve unabashedly swung his fist if it weren’t for that said person being you. Grin cracking upon your lips at the doe, wide-eyed look he’s greeting you with, seemingly unable to utter so much as a word to that uncharacteristically depraved statement, or is that your idea of a damn compliment to another guy? Shit, that’s right! Both guys is what you two are— so, his cock hidden underneath the fabric of his ripped jeans, languish legs lazily stretched out along the creaking, wooden bench, shouldn’t be stirring up with peeked interest at the mind numbing prospect of endlessly being called ‘pretty’ by you. Nor profusely encouraging the alarming amount of translucent pre-cum dizzyingly forming at the swollen tip of his cock head, crudely staining the material sheer. Give the blonde a supportive head pat while you’re at it, too. Ah.. should be saying somethin’ right about now lest he wants to appear as some bashful fool.

“I don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t swing that way, I know. I’m not hitting on you, I’m just telling the truth as it is. Got any idea how many guys would line up just to fuck your dirty mouth? Maybe your tits too, if they’re into that sorta stuff— shit, I think they’d go for the ass too, definitely. I could make a goddamn fortune just whoring out your pretty, slutty body to the old fucks at the pub, y’know that, Whit?” Endless chattering on and on, explicit details of how some grubby old men could be here, disgustingly groping his flesh instead. Yet, that lingering glimmer within your gaze, noticeably darkening in return at the mere idea of it as your thumb comes forth to idly tap at his blazing cheek.

“But, you know.. I don’t. I won’t. Not cuz’ I’m a nice guy or anything— hah, truthfully, I’m no better than them for wanting to ruin a pretty face like yours.” You’re.. god, he can’t keep up with whatever shit you’re nonchalantly spouting, gracing solely his ears to be the one to silently listen to this.. crap, can’t really say it— fluttering in his tensed stomach from your bold admission, depraved wants just as much as he does late at nights— wanting to fuck him too.

“Honestly, do you know why I don’t use your sorry fuckin’ ass, Whitney?”

If he’s meant to attentively keep up with your words by now, then his brain has happily shut off due to the dizzying amount of semi-insults, degration and somewhat praise shot in his way. Like he’d fucking know, shit!

“See, it’s cuz’ it’s real funny to watch you trotting ‘round my side like some dumb, fucking puppy begging for its owner’s attention. I give you just a bit of praise, and your doggy tail would start wagging if you even had one. You look so goddamn stupid that it’d hurt my conscience to sell you out like this. And, I don’t like it when other fucks touch what’s mine either. I’m not running some gracious charity, am I?” To be truthful, if you tirelessly keep up with that incessant spouting, he’s bound to boil over like some screeching, burning kettle considering.. the obscene amount of scorching heat riddled across his features currently, adorning his cheeks so stupidly — and prettily too, huh— crimson red for your unwavering gaze solely. Seems like you’re liking the rare show in front of you quite a bit, aren’t you?

Stunned would’ve been one of the few lacking words remaining in the thick, daunting dictionary to scarcely describe the absolutely idiotic expression he’s nicely sporting right about now.

“Shut up.. I’m not—“ Fuck, fuck, fuck!! And, how the simple concept of verbal speech dutifully fails the bully at a time like this. Great going there, fuckin’ dumbass! Visibly seething would’ve been the most reasonable reaction in face of this, but— but— fuck! Entirety of this crap is all too quick for his sluggish mind to steadily keep up with your unpredictable actions, pathetically keening with a drawled out curse— no, more like a high-pitched whine is what it truly sounds like, once your calloused palm gingerly strips him free from his relatively loose jeans in one fell swoop.

“What the fuck’re you doin’—?? Mmph, fuck.. don’t—“ Dumb question to be asking when the self-evident answer is plainly in front of him.

Weeping cock, flushed in the cooling, outside air, naturally springing forth out of its constricting confines to audibly slap against his bare rigid tummy. Aw, now ain’t that real pretty to witness? Timid, twitching cock profusely leaking out sticky pre to messily smear along the curve of the blonde’s stomach, which you promptly do the honours for him, unabashedly too.

Always been pretty confident in your audacity to joyfully serve people, haven’t you? By god, he’s half-hated ya for meddling with others private businesses to begin with, although his throbbing cock being so smoothly tended to can say otherwise, idly disagree with his withering logic. Shakily sighing, puffing out heated huffs of air as your so— fuck.. annoyingly warm and soft hand loosely tucks ‘round his fat cock, teasingly squeezes him down at the base. Meanly drawing out more pearly globs of his dribbling pre-cum with a resounding, wet squelch!, undeniable proof of his shared arousal at the newfound situation he’s unfortunately finding himself in.

‘Unfortunately’— one says, funny that you see right through that by the mocking nature of your barking laughter, sharply ringing within his ears.

“My, who’s the exact fucking pervert here, Whit? Y’seem pretty hard to me. Actually, you’re dripping wet down there, y’know that?” No fucking shit. Ready to single-handily cum from a single, measly stroke of your fist snugly wrapped around the veiny girth of his quivering length— fucking hell. Head instinctively thrown back to which you soon wistfully take advantage of, ‘course you would, wouldn’t you? Lazily pressing hot, heated kisses along the sharp edges of his jawline that soon has the same bully, known to be so very resistant, stifling wanton moans, firmly clasping a palm over his gaping mouth in a heedless effort to remain discreet as possible. Slithering, pink tongue laving and tracing over the heated shell of his ear, ushered snickering coupled by bouts of utter filth being so brazenly whispered towards him. And your canines— ah, are not helping at all either. Grazing the bobbing curve of his throat, delicately sucking a bruising mark upon the tanned skin to pridefully admire over later. “Nnh— no, fu— ah, uuckk! N-Not there, you bastard!!”

“Not here? What’s the matter, Ney-Ney? Can’t fucking speak properly when your pretty, pink cock is being stroked off like this?” Would’ve scornfully refuted you, barked out the meanest curses that would’ve had an elderly woman shockingly clutch her pearls if given the chance, but stealing a discreet glance down to humiliatingly witness how sticky and wet his tip has gotten, messily stained your palm in a string of creamy, white pre is not.. Possessing way too much pride to do so. “Y’see, you like this— hah, fuck— you like it when I actually take what I fucking want from you and ruin you down to this cute, little, slutty mess, yeah?”

“I-It’s not like that—“ Uncharacteristically meek protest on his part. Cat got his tongue, ‘s that it?

“No? Pretty boy. Use your words, will you?” Oh, fuuuuckkin’ god. Seeing sheer darkness as his eyes reflexively roll backwards to his skull from casually being called ‘pretty’ by your lulling voice.

Have any idea the way your hushed words dizzyingly affects his fuzzy brain? Renders him alarmingly stiff like a stoned statue, wobbling knees surely bound to buckle beneath the weight of your relentless taunting, all the while being boldly jerked off in broad, fucking daylight — hidden amongst the rustling bushes of the park, mind you — still, very much in an open space where one can be so easily seen by oncoming passerbys. And even then, the absolute control you possess over him, sneakily snaking your arm ‘round his middle, relishing in the little, heated gasps hurriedly rushed out of this dirty, fucking perverted bitch of a blonde’s mouth is too way goddamn much for him to precariously withstand another tortuously long second of this shit.

Yeah, one more minute? He’s fucking busting by then.

“What’s the matter? Can’t keep up? Gon’ shoot your filthy load soon, ‘s that it?” Mild disinterest lacing your very tone with a slight hint of, what’s that..? Actual anticipation? Hah, as if he can barely discern between the mind buzzing layer of reality set upon him when coupled by your soft— so fucking warm, shit.. hand relentlessly fisting him dry, milking every thick droplet steadily trickling forth. Uncaring for the accumulated mess below you both as his hips instinctually roll forward against the rewarding palm of your curled fist, sickeningly jolts at a noticeably harsh press of your padded thumb atop his oozing tip. “Well, then.. Go ahead, I’m not stopping you, am I?”

“Cmon, pretty. Paint my hand all sticky and nice for me, yeah?”

Predictably so, as the uttered rumours had notably confirmed— how downright desperate Whitney’s always apparently been for you to the damn point that he’s automatically cumming on command like a dog patiently withholding for its owner’s words and oh, was it fucking worth the extensive wait. Stifled whimper weakly slipping out, fingers immediately latching onto the comforting feel of your forearm lazily slung around his quivering figure for proper support. No use in making a fool out of himself by clumsily buckling down to his slacked knees— not that he hasn’t already, though too late to be thinking about it twice, huh? Thick, sticky strings of his hot seed directly shot out of his pulsing cock and into the air to, as expected, pervertedly dirty your open hand in a mess of his load which is kinda.. hot, no? Fuckin’ get ahold of yourself, shit! Minus the rest having uncontrollably splattered downwards onto the ground, pitifully traced in a puddled mess of droplets.

And somehow, the barely discernible hint of a relieved breath tumbling from between his parted lips. The natural conclusion that this is it, oncoming closure bound to take its place yet still— still, damn it; Always managed to keep the dirtied blonde on the edge of his toes, haven’t you?

So, truly, it shouldn’t have came off as an unexpected shock then, how you so brazenly mumble a stuttered curse beneath your puffed sighs at the melting sight. “Ah, fuck.” Swiftly freeing your fat— well, admittedly hefty cock for his following eyes to shamelessly gawk at in turn because, y’know.. fuck, he won’t outright voice it, but the sinful glimmer in his wide gaze says it all. Innate itch, unadulterated need— god, to merely sling down to his knees, sloppily drool all over your tasty-looking cock and coat it all shiny and wet with his spit. Although, too busy admiring the rare glimpse of your contorted features strained with pure, unrestrained concentration to bother paying much attention to the repeated, distinct fapping! noises of your cock being so hurriedly stroked raw, as if in a hurry, almost.

Furrowed brows deepening, lashes fluttering in their wake as your rosy lips that he’s known time and time again to be nonchalantly formed into a grin— now, so prettily stained crimson by the harsh press of your teeth against your puffy, bottom lip. “Don’t— ugh, fucking look at me like that.” You audibly groan out in the mix of a huffed chuckle. Slightest flush delicately dusting your cheeks a pink hue, so damn pretty too. “Hah, it makes things kinda awkward, y’know?” Ah, takes less than a stretched minute for his brain to acutely process what’s hit him before given the proper chance.

Something hot— and sticky too, actually it’s pretty evident what it should’ve been if he wasn’t so goddamn brain dead within this bleary moment. Splattering amongst the already present mess you’ve both collectively made of yourself, thick ropes of sweet cum landing right upon his rumpled uniform you’ve taken a gleeful joy of permanently ruining. Judging by the cackling laughter soon drawing forth outta ya thanks to the sheer, dizzying sight of the cum-stained mess he’s forced to pitifully endure for the time being.

Look what you’ve done, god— even if you manage to be one step ahead of him, as always, in such a predicament as the delinquent merely receives a thrown jacket straight in the face. “Sorry for ruining your nice shirt of yours, I couldn’t really help myself when you looked so dumb like that. Take it as an apology, alright?” Exhaling out shakily in the chilling air suddenly alarmingly cold without your warm weight shifted against his own, too deliriously fucked out of his mind to muster up a rightful remark to your cheaply made one. Dumb, little ol’ puppy is what he is to you, no?

And perhaps then, it’s the idiotic absurdity of your actions, swiftly turning away like the encounter itself hadn’t even taken place right at this very spot. Footsteps progressively fading amongst the rhythmic crunches of fallen leaves fluttering down from the withering trees, gaze tentatively flicking downwards to where your stupidly soft, discarded jacket rests within his arms. Meaningless gesture is what it should’ve been notably perceived as, though that doesn’t really help the gradual thump! of his swaying heart noisily beating against his chest nonetheless.

That’s not— oh.

Oh.

“..Fuck.”

Yeah, being wholly swallowed by the ground beneath his feet doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?

[runariya]

Part 2 of this | shout out to @slut4jeon who made this happen part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, foul language, basically just smut, jealous JK, oral (f. receiving), a bit of handjob, boobplay, fingering, squirting, a bit of eating out and finger sucking, unprotected seggs, a bit of cock warming, spanking, body worshipping, they are just whipped for each other, rough possessive seggs, JK's a bit whiney, cum shot, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.336

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Living in the Metro is, to say the least, completely unexpected. It’s like stepping into an alternate universe compared to the outside world. Not that it’s entirely safe here, with certain stations better avoided, especially when you’re on your own, but it’s still so much safer than anything you could have ever wished for.

What’s also otherworldly is living with Jungkook. It’s not only a luxury but like living in a constant dream. You’d never have believed you’d find someone like him, not even when the world was green, and the skies were blue before everything fell apart. But here you are, living the dream because Jungkook is the best partner you could ever hope for.

There isn’t a single day that passes where he isn’t more than willing and eager to please you to the best of his abilities—abilities that are beyond heaven. If you’re sad? He fucks you. If you’re happy? He fucks you too. And if you’re angry with him for reasons you can’t even recall? He’s usually the one responsible for making you forget in the first place.

You’d never complain, though, and never would you deny him or the multitude of orgasms he grants you day in and day out.

Like right now. He saw a seller at Riga Station, the trading hub of the Metro, being a bit too friendly with you. The man even gave you a rare flower, despite everyone knowing you belong to Jungkook. Hoseok just wanted to wind him up, and you suspect he did it on purpose.

“Sit down,” Jungkook orders, pacing the small room while his jaw ticks dangerously. You obey, clutching the flower tightly, not at all scared but rather anticipating the ‘punishment’ you know is coming.

“So now you’re collecting gifts from every man in—”

“I’m not collecting anything, Kook, he gave it to me volunta—”

“Voluntarily?! You didn’t just say that.”

You nod, biting your lip to suppress a smile as you watch Jungkook spiral further into frustration.

“Are you still looking for someone better? Is that it?”

“You never give me flowers,” you pout dramatically, and when Jungkook gestures with both hands to the wall overflowing with flowers and other gifts, you almost feel guilty enough to stop the game and tell him how good he is to you.

Almost.

But you don’t, because his next words are exactly what you’ve been waiting for.

“Maybe I need to remind my girlfriend who’s worthy of her.”

And as Jungkook strides towards you, ripping his army shirt off, you toss the flower aside you don’t care about. In seconds, he’s on you, crushing his lips against yours, his lip piercings digging into your lower lip as his hands grip every inch of your body.

You’re both naked in the blink of an eye, Jungkook alternating between sucking and licking your nipples while you jerk his perfect, hard cock. The sight of him worshipping your body like this never gets old, and his touch is never the same twice.

“I’m going to make sure I’m the only one on your mind.”

Jungkook’s fingers glide down to your cunt, pushing two fingers inside once you’re wet enough. The way his thick fingers stretch you sends stars exploding behind your eyelids, and the pace he sets, combined with his mouth and free hand still working on your tits, is utterly intoxicating. 

It’s insane how he can fuck you so perfectly with just his fingers, knowing exactly where to touch you. When he adds a third finger, thrusting as deep as he can, you know he’s not messing around this time. The burn from the stretch only intensifies when he rasps into your ear, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

“Kook!” you cry as he presses particularly hard. You didn’t know he could be this possessive, but God, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.

“Scream my name, love! Let everyone in this forsaken hellhole know who owns you.”

“Jungkook!” you moan as his fingers thrust relentlessly into you, his wrist occasionally grazing your clit, sending you even higher.

“Fuck yeah. My goddess.”

Your tits and neck are littered with hickeys at this point, and you’ve forgotten all about his cock in your slackened grip, but he doesn’t care. He never cares—his sole focus is your pleasure.

It’s when Jungkook leans back, looking down at you with his lips swollen and shining, that it all undoes you. Your orgasm crashes through you, fast and hard, and even though he’s made you squirt before, it never fails to shock and slightly embarrass you.

But Jungkook doesn’t let you dwell on that. He pulls his fingers out, licks them clean, and then dives straight between your legs, licking up every drop like always.

You’re spent, completely worn out, but you know it’s far from over. His cock is standing proudly, angrily red and ready for its well-deserved attention.

You’d like to give him head, but you know you wouldn’t survive it after what he just did to you. Jungkook, knowing you too well, simply lines himself up and pushes inside without breaking eye contact.

Every inch of him makes your head spin, especially when he bottoms out completely, filling you in a way that makes you never want to be without him.

You’re confused for a moment when he doesn’t move, and then you catch his lazy, wicked smirk. His hands run up and down your thighs before hooking them under your knees and pushing you further into him, making you moan involuntarily.

“You’re going to accept gifts from other men?”

You hesitate. Should you tease him further or stop while you’re ahead?

“Yes?” you test, but it’s clearly the wrong answer.

Jungkook’s hand smacks your ass, making you yelp, moan, and clench around him, only causing that smirk to grow.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said yes.”

Another smack, another moan.

“You think this is funny?”

There’s something about a jealous Jungkook that hits differently, and despite knowing not to push him too far, you also know what’s coming is exactly what you both crave in this doomed world.

“Yes.”

Again, his hand strikes your ass, and this time you can’t hold back, your cunt squeezing so violently around him, coating his abs and thighs with a new wave of arousal. 

“How about I fuck that ‘yes’ out of you, huh?”

There’s no time to answer before Jungkook slams into you without mercy, stealing any possible words from your lips.

“Where’s your big mouth now?”

It’s gone, completely useless. You can only pant in time with his brutal thrusts, his fingers digging deeper into your legs as he forces you even closer, higher, as you cling to his wrists, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Scream my name, ____.”

He thrusts harder, but your voice is stolen, only broken cries escaping your lips.

“Scream!” Another slap across your by now red ass, the only thing holding you together is his massive cock.

“Jungkook!” you finally cry out, so loud you swear it echoes not only through you both but through the entire Metro as well. 

“Again.” Smack.

“Jungkook! Yes!”

“That’s right.”

And with that, you’re gone, chanting his name with every thrust, every drop of sweat that falls from him onto your body. Your next orgasm washes over you without mercy.

You know he’s close, too, when he abruptly pulls out like he always does and starts jerking himself off. 

With his eyes locked on you, he comes with a desperate whine, spilling white all over your body like a masterpiece.

He’s beautiful, your gorgeous, perfect boyfriend.

Jungkook collapses onto you, and your fingers instinctively find their way into his hair while he catches his breath.

“You know there’s only you, right?”

He grumbles in response.

“I love you, Kook. Don’t think otherwise.”

“I love you too,” he grumbles again, voice still muffled, but you don’t mind. It just makes him even more endearing.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

[kitten4sannie]

ɪɴᴅᴜꜱᴛʀʏ ʙᴀʙʏ

ᴄᴜᴄᴋᴏʟᴅ/ᴄᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏ ➠ ᴍɪɴɢɪ/ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

pairing: singer/rapper bf! mingi x fem! reader x guitarist! hongjoong

genre: band au, smut

summary: your bf’s band has such a good set, that he doesn’t mind sharing you with the handsy guitarist. anything for his baby. he just wants to assess the damage afterwards.

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: open relationship, mentioned alcohol/drugs use, dom! mingi/hongjoong, joongie’s got a tongue piercing ^^, sub! reader, so muchhh cucky behavior, mxm if you squint, teasing, perversion, dirty talk, degradation, pet names, fingering, oral (receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected rough sex, actual phone sex, creampie, two seconds of cockwarming, cum eating, more oral and fingering, some clit nibbling, squirting

a/n: urgghh im obsessed with tunnel and mingi and hongjoong’s guitar solo and just minjoong in general hhhhhnn also idkw happened but hongjoong is giving me more and more brainworms these days and i just i’m uhhhhh 🧎🏻‍♀️so yeah please enjoy whatever this is <33

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ᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀʟ ʙᴀᴛʜ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

You were always full of nerves before your boyfriend’s band went on, especially when the previous band was finishing up their encore. Hanging out backstage was always hectic too, the venue’s employees running around like headless chickens in pursuit of completing the latest task their manager gave them, members of other bands and their entourages engaging in boisterous conversations, drinking, and doing drugs amongst themselves, their actions up to par with the touring lifestyle. It wasn’t until you ran into the guitarist of your boyfriend’s band, Hongjoong, that your nerves doubled, but for a different reason. 

“Y/N, there you are. Where have you been, huh?” Hongjoong greeted you with a hug, resting his solo cup against your lower back, his free hand moving down to your ass, squeezing it a few times through your skirt, sighing against your skin, his body relaxing against yours. “I missed my stress toy…” 

“Joong,” you whined, pushing gently at his leather bound chest, your hand almost getting tangled in one of his silver chained necklaces. “You always get so grabby before a show. What if Mingi sees?” 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, leaning his face into your neck, alcohol on his breath. “You know he wants to see it. And it’s not my fault I can't keep my hands off you. Just look at you…” The buzzed guitarist gazed down at your body with hooded eyes, his jaw tightening up more and more the longer he pictured what you looked like folded up for him and taking everything he had to give. “You’d look so good underneath me, baby. Spread open all nice and wide…fuck….” 

“Joongie, please…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together, pressing your back into the concrete wall behind you, feeling him press further into you as a result. 

“You can beg for me after the show, sweetheart. Just let me get a peek, okay?” Knowing he had you right where he wanted you, Hongjoong slowly ran a calloused finger along your jaw, down your neck to your rising chest, pleased with the way your breath hitched, his dark eyes flitting between your gaze and the slope of your bare tits through your thin white tank top, unable to resist pulling down the neckline of your top until he had a good view of your pebbled nipples. “Look at that. You’re just aching to be touched, aren’t you?” 

You were so wet, you could’ve sworn that you were about to drip all over the backstage floor, barely able to form any coherent words besides a small ‘yeah’, letting the perverted guitarist grab at your hips, his fingers pressing into your hip bones, a low groan leaving his lips. 

“Wanna fuck you, baby, wanna make you mine,” Hongjoong sighed into your ear, about to describe his needs in detail and put his hands all over you when Mingi came around the corner, a lollipop poking through his cheek, his ringed fingers rubbing at the mascara near his lash line. 

Mingi stopped in his tracks, towering over the both of you due to the studded boots he always wore during his shows. He studied you, noticing how flushed you were and how hard you were already breathing. He couldn’t help but to pull his sweet lollipop out to bite at his plump lip, his cock ready to come to life. “Oh? What’s this about, sugar?” 

“Babyy, there you are,” you greeted, bouncing on your heels, making grabby hands at your boyfriend. 

In return, Mingi lifted you up and spun you around in a tight hug, making sure to press a kiss to your cheek before putting you back down in front of his favorite bandmate. 

“Joongie’s being all needy again,” you giggled, leaning back against Hongjoong’s chest. 

“Can’t help it.” Hongjoong casually handed his drink to Mingi who took it and knocked it back, wrapping his arms around you from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder, a sickening smirk gracing his feline-like lips. “Hey, Minnie. Wanna make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?” Mingi licked at the corner of his salivating mouth, pulling at the crotch of his heavy, chained pants, his cock pressed against one of his thighs, growing harder just from seeing the way you fit perfectly inside his bandmate’s arms. Shit. 

“If I nail my guitar solo tonight, will you let me have Y/N for a night?” Hongjoong requested, nuzzling his face against your heated cheek, making a small pouty face at his dear bandmate. 

Mingi knew he shouldn’t be getting this worked up before a show, but it might make him perform better if he was thinking about how bad he wanted you, and how he couldn’t have you until Hongjoong did. He knew the odds of Hongjoong hitting every single note perfectly was a 50/50 chance. His chances were even lower if he had access to a bottle of jack that night, though Mingi was aware that his bandmate was quite skilled with his calloused fingers, only knowing because you wouldn’t shut up about it a few nights ago. 

The lead singer decided he would push all his chips onto the table, knowing he would have his darling to himself either way. You belonged to him, whether you were filled with another man’s load or not. “Sure, as long as you make sure my baby cums.” He sent a charming smile your way, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, chuckling softly when you pressed a kiss to the side of his thumb, your lips making contact with the cold metal of his large skull ring. 

“Hear that, princess? Min wants me to have you,” Hongjoong purred into your ear from the other side. “And so do you, huh? Is that cunt of yours dripping already? I think we should have a litle peek...” Knowing all three of you would enjoy it, the guitarist snaked his hands around your waist from behind, lifting your skirt up for only Mingi to see, rubbing his rough fingers along your bare cunt.

“I-i heard,” you gasped, grasping at Mingi’s oversized sweater, your fingers going into one of the torn holes it had, leaning your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder, trying not to make any noise when Mingi joined in, slipping two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt, the feeling of his rings stretching you out further making you jolt. 

“You know what I hear? How fucking wet you already are for us.” Hongjoong said into your ear, his digits rubbing roughly into your clit, his eyes on Mingi’s hooded ones, licking at his lips. “Your girlfriend is such a slut, Min. God, I love it.” 

“She loves it too,” Mingi replied in a gravelly voice,  stepping a little closer to cage you against Hongjoong, pushing the lollipop into your mouth to watch you suck on it. “But you still belong to me…Don’t you, baby?”

“Of course, Minnie. I’m only yours.” You nodded obediently up at him, crunching some of the lollipop in between your teeth when Mingi added another digit inside your tight hole, your thighs trembling slightly. 

“That’s my girl.” Your boyfriend gave you a pretty smile, pressing his hand against the wall near your head to further display his dominance over you, his eyes fixed on your submissive gaze, and the way you just let him fill you up with his thick fingers, his bandmate’s fingers still working you clit like he would would a six string. “Fuck…you’re so sexy like this, baby…” 

“Try not to blow your load before the show,” Hongjoong mused, his smirk growing more and more reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat’s. He was about to tease Mingi more when the previous band sang their last angsty lyric and shredded their remaining guitar notes, silence filling up the air for only a moment, before there was an immediate uproar of rowdy cheers and shouts from the pumped up crowd. 

Your boyfriend’s band was up next and you couldn’t wait to watch them from the sidelines, ready to catch their occasional hungry glances, knowing they were ready to tear you apart once they finished their heavy, energy filled set. 

Mingi delivered as usual, showing off his impressive duality, going from spitting quick, head-turning bars with a devilish smirk on his sweaty face, to expressing emotional, thought provoking lyrics with a soft, expressive voice that would have anyone shedding a tear, his face contorted in melancholic concentration, his hands wrapped tightly around his mic, his dominating stage presence alone having the entire venue in a chokehold throughout the entire set. 

Hongjoong arguably delivered just as well, consistently shredding notes on his sleek guitar with a borderline psychotic look in his eyes and a heinous grin that would make the Devil himself blush, working his rough, agile fingers song after heavy song, never failing to provide Mingi with his own unique back-up vocals. And just like clockwork, despite being a bit tipsy and high on some kind of illegal drug, Hongjoong captivated the large audience with his infamous guitar solo, making everybody in the crowd cream themselves with his nasty riffs. All Hongjoong could do after was push back his sweaty hair and send Mingi a shit-eating smirk, that was returned with a soft chuckle and head shake. He made sure to give you a look too, though this time he had his fingers held up in a V, his pierced tongue sticking out in between them. 

You were in for a busy night. 

࿏࿏࿏

“Hey, eyes on me, baby…” Hongjoong commanded in a low whisper from below you, sitting comfortably on his knees, using his thumbs to keep your cunt spread open for him, watching you writhe around against the wall of the spacious hotel shower, beads of water dripping through his damp bangs and past his smudged eyeliner, pooling in the crevices of his collar bone, the rest trickling down along his dangling necklaces. 

He had easily coaxed you inside his hotel room, not having to do much to get you in his shower, claiming he needed to cool down after giving it his all during the show — though he still made sure to give you his all during your own private show, using his calloused, dexterous fingers to play with your body, delighted with the pretty, wanton sounds he created, wanting nothing more than to write a song about how delicious you looked in that moment — flushed, transfixed on his pierced tongue lapping at your throbbing clit, and moaning out the little pet name you gave him. 

“That’s it….” The side of his lips quirked up a bit at the pout you gave him, before he pursed them and sent a wad of spit directly into you, pushing two fingers back inside you to rub it around your tight, pulsing walls. “I love when you look at me like that.”

“Like what, Joong?” you breathed out, running your fingers through his wet hair, gripping the sides of his head, your thighs beginning to feel like jelly from the way Hongjoong was finger-fucking you into ecstasy. 

“Like you want my cock,” he sighed, unable to keep himself from diving back into your cunt, lapping at your clit and slit like a pussydrunk maniac, easily slipping a third finger inside you. 

“I do…! I need your cock, Joongie, please,” you moaned out, so close to your high that you began to push his face into your cunt, rubbing it against his moving tongue, his piercing repeatedly catching on your clit, driving more pleasured moans out of you, neither of you aware in that moment that your dear perverted boyfriend sat on the other side of the wall, standing fully clothed in his own shower and jerking himself off with fervid desperation, his jeans hanging loosely around his jolting hips. 

“You’ll have it, baby, I promise. Cum on my tongue first,” he said with his lips against your soaked cunt, curling his fingers and rubbing at the gummy spot inside you, sending you over the edge, sticking his tongue out to catch your arousal on it, his cock throbbing at the sound of his name mixed with swears being cried out by his bandmate’s pretty girlfriend. 

Soon, you grew docile and dazed, wrapping your limbs around him as soon as he stood up and carried you over to his bed, not wasting any time sending a few drops of spit down onto your hot cunt and plugging it up with his thick cock. 

Mingi felt like he was going to melt, his brain and body going into overdrive over the fact that his beloved bandmate was busy putting a baby in his baby, making her feel so good she was starting to cry, his cock throbbing inside his closed fist, listening closely to the pants and moans that made their way into his pierced, attentive ears, along with the incessant creaking of the mattress springs — though the disruptive banging sounds of the wooden bedframe hitting the thin wall contended for Mingi’s attention as well. 

“Joong..! It’s so good, you’re so good,” he heard you whine out in a broken voice, not hearing the rest of your cries due to Hongjoong stuffing two fingers into your willing mouth. Mingi couldn’t help but want to drown in his sin, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. 

You looked to your phone with half-closed eyes, watching the way it buzzed against the moving mattress, your legs suddenly getting closer to your body, Hongjoong lifting your lower half up to fuck into you even deeper than before, rendering you speechless from the pressure of his heated body on yours. 

“Answer it, baby,” Hongjoong huffed from above you, his necklaces dragging along your flushed skin with each sloppy thrust, blowing a bit of wet hair out of his half-lidded eyes. 

“Mingi,” you sighed into the receiver, trying to catch your breath, knowing you were on the edge of ecstasy with the way your body was starting to feel heavy, despite the feeling like you were ready to float away. “I’m gonna cum, baby, it– aaah, oh my god…!”

“Cum for me, princess. Let me hear how pretty you sound cumming on his cock,” Mingi moaned back, squeezing his hand around his length, his eyes ready to roll underneath his eyelids. 

Hongjoong put his entire body weight onto you, his lips sliding across your neck to leave a few marks, his cock throbbing against your tight inner walls, pounding into you a few more times before he painted them white. “M’ cumming inside your girl, Minnie, it’s feel so fucking good…”

It was when Hongjoong bit down onto your neck that you catapulted over the edge, grabbing at the guitarist’s bare back, digging your nails into his skin. “Mingiii, he’s filling me up…it won’t stop…”

“Oh god, baby, oh my god.” Mingi huffed and huffed, his entire body tensing up as he drove himself over the edge right after you, splashes of cum landing on his rapidly rising chest and abdomen. 

You simply laid there making small squeaks from the aftershocks of your orgasm, while Hongjoong stayed put inside you, his soft, deflated cock suddenly twitching with newfound interest, a light bulb appearing inside his hazy brain. “Min, I want you to come over here. You need to see the mess I made inside your girlfriend…”

And just like that, Mingi made his way over to the next door hotel room, fumbling with his loose pants and the doorknob, wiggling till it unlocked. He kicked his jeans off once inside the half-lit room, climbing onto the bed to join the both of you, having the same intensely horny, almost deranged look in his eye that he usually had before a show. 

“Baby, look,” you sighed out, spreading your thighs open, while Hongjoong pulled out inch by inch, until a flood of creamy white liquid bubbled out of your pulsing hole, dripping down your thighs and onto the already damp mattress below. 

Before Mingi could properly access the arousing situation, drool falling from his moaning mouth, Hongjoong suddenly grabbed him by the hair, pushing his head down in between your legs. “You wanna clean it up, don’t you, Minnie? Come on, be a good boy and lick up the mess I left inside her.” 

Blushing, Mingi lapped at the mess of cum and slick, using his fingers to scoop the rest out into his eager mouth, Hongjoong’s hand still pressing his face further into your used cunt, eventually letting go when he started to go at it, watching his bandmate’s tongue swipe at your clit and slit. Mingi didn’t even seem to notice, too busy drowning in his baby’s sweet cunt to have any awareness, his hands clutching your trembling thighs. 

“Gonna cum again,” you whined out, unable to speak when your boyfriend suddenly lifted his fingers up to your mouth to suck on them, his lips sucking around your sensitive clit, his dark, glazed over eyes focused solely on the way you seemed to completely fall apart in front of his and his best friend. 

“Think you can get her to squirt?” Hongjoong asked from beside him, resting one of his hands on your moving thighs, holding it down so that you couldn’t close them. 

Mingi glanced over at Hongjoong, rolling his mascara-smudged eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make his baby feel so good she sobbed. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, instead pushing three of them inside you, curling them up until you cried out. With his other hand, he forcefully pushed Hongjoong’s head down onto your cunt next. “Lick,” he commanded gruffly, concentrating solely on fucking you into ecstasy with his thick fingers. 

Moaning against your cunt, Hongjoong lapped and nibbled on your throbbing clit, his cold piercing dragging over your sensitive flesh, feeling his bandmate’s fingers tugging at his hair, eliciting another muffled moan from him. 

“Bite it. Bite her clit and make her cum,” Mingi demanded through gritted teeth, working your cunt like he always did, enjoying the sight of you writhing around, unable to speak or think, knowing his pretty baby was experiencing some of the best pleasure of her life thanks to him and his friend. 

It was when Hongjoong bit down and moved your clit in between his teeth, Mingi’s fingers still moving relentlessly inside your clenching cunt, that you screamed, your boyfriend’s slick-covered fingers going back into your mouth to keep you from waking up everyone else in the hotel. Both bandmates watched as a small fountain of liquid squirted from your pulsing cunt, seeping into the mattress and turning it dark. 

A few moments of silence went by, before Hongjoong gave Mingi a sickening smile. “Bet you can’t get her to do that with your cock.” 

Mingi shook his head, blowing his wet bangs out of his eyes. “Of course I can. She’s my baby. I know her body like the back of my hand. I’ll make her drench the both of us.”

Hongjoong giggled softly, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flitting from you to Mingi. “Wanna make a bet?” 

You were definitely in for a long night. 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[mariasont]

hiii! I read your last spencer one shot AND I LOVED IT! IT WAS SO SWEET AND YOU'RE SO TALENTED!! Would you write something about post prison reid and shy reader? I was thinking of her as the media liaison (in my mind she is old-fashioned in music and clothes I'd wear skirts everyday, her emotional intelligence makes her good at her job, despite her shyness). Maybe she's clumsy, especially when she gets nervous and more especially (I don't even know if that's grammatically correct) when she's around Spencer.

Thank you so much for reading this, you're doing an EXCELLENT job, your works are a masterpiece!! 💕💖💝💓💓💖💞💕💖💓

Make a Wish - S.R

a/n: eekkkkkk post-prison spencer reid has me in a CHOKEHOLD! thank you so much for requesting, i'm so sorry for the delay! i hope i did your request justice!! I LOVE LOVE YOU!

masterlist

pairings: post prison!spencer reid x shy!reader

wc: 0.9k

You had been meaning to give the reports fastened in your hands to Spencer for give-or-take two hours now. Each time you gathered the courage to approach him, just one glance, one simple stupid glance from those piercing eyes set your nerves on fire and sent your brain in overdrive.

As the new media liaison from the narcotics unit, you were warned about the BAU's intimidating figures, particularly Rossi and Emily. However, no warning came regarding Spencer Reid. They mentioned his tendencies for long-winded explanations and awkward social interactions but not the aura of intensity he exuded. Whenever he entered a room, you instinctively started looking for an exit, not because of his criminal record, but because you found yourself hopelessly mesmerized by him.

He was perfect in every sense of the word—brilliant, compassionate, selfless, and an exceptional agent. At least, this is what you had observed from afar. A part of you was scared that any real interaction with him would shatter the idyllic image you had crafted in your head, and you weren't confident you were prepared for such disillusionment. However, you needed to give him these damn papers, dreading the alternative, which was getting summoned to Emily's office.

"Hi."

You did it, okay, first step complete. You opened your mouth, determined to get out the next part you had practiced a little over twenty times in your head, but the words seemed to dissipate into a misty fog in your brain.

"Um, these are for you," you said, rocking back onto the balls of your mary janes, placing the report on his desk. "It's the Henderson lie detector test transcript?"

"Is it?"

You realized you had said it like a question.

You paused, the part of your brain stuttering for a second, trying to flip over the thousands of scenarios you had rehearsed in your head for this interaction. None of them had included those words.

Just a little off script and you felt your fight or flight kick in—nails digging into your palms as you avoided eye contact.

"Yes." A little more confident this time, not by much, and it quickly deflated as you second guessed yourself, stepping closer to peer over his shoulder at the document. "At least I think."

"I'm just messing with you, it is." He said, eyes flickering down to the document, then to you. "You okay?"

"M-Me? Okay? Yeah, of course." The words were stumbling out of your mouth at a rate that was hard to keep up with. "Do I not look okay?"

"No, of course you look okay," he responded, brows knitting together as his gaze traveled down your body, no doubt dissecting your every thought. "You just seem... a bit nervous."

You opened your mouth, aiming to articulate a coherent thought, but it fell short and was quickly interrupted by Spencer.

He suddenly leaned in, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, hold still; you have an eyelash."

He was so close, you swore you feel his breath on your cheeks, instantly warming them. Your body was in overdrive, trying to recalibrate as his finger grazed the area under your right eye. You closed your eyes, almost unwillingly, relishing in the unexpected touch.

This was weird. Every nerve in your body was on high alert, and you balled your hand into a fist, attempting to mask the way you were shaking.

The sound of your name snapped you out of your daze. Your eyes followed suit, meeting Spencer's prying eyes. His finger was raised, your eyelash perched on the tip. Your face could have been a furnace, flames of heat spreading from your neck to your nose.

"Do you want to make a wish?"

He looked at you expectantly, eyes darting from your face to his raised pointer finger.

"Okay."

You closed your eyes, forming the wish in your mind before blowing on the lash. You watched it float to the ground, settling gently on the toe of Spencer's shoe. 

"What did you wish for?"

"I feel like I'm not supposed to tell you that," you say, pulling at the ends of your hair.

He was undeniably good-looking. It wasn't like you were just realizing it; you had eyes and you were only human. But up close, you could see every detail—the dark circles under his eyes, the rough stubble under his jaw.

"I think you're right."

The sudden intimacy of the moment made your heart skip a beat. You stepped back, nodding at his words and also nothing in particular.

"Anyway, yeah, those are the papers—," you began, turning to walk away. As you did, you bumped your hip into the desk beside you, hissing under your breath in response.

"Christ, are you okay?" His hand was on your hip as the words came out of his mouth.

The touch only seemed to intensify your embarrassment. You stepped out of his grip, dropping your phone as you did which you quickly bent down to pick up.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine, just forgot I have a meeting with Emily, so I'm just gonna—," you pointed towards her office, quickly making your escape from Spencer as you tried to catch your breath.

Once you were a distance you deemed safe enough, you allowed yourself a quick glance back at him. He was smirking, and you felt that all familiar heat rising into your chest once again.

You really hoped that wish would kick in soon.

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[kisakis-boyfriend]

🎃

Not the Shinichiro anon but omg I loved that post!! Could I request more Shin, possibly ftm!Shinichiro?

With size kink juice and a bigger werewolf reader?? Getting hunted on Halloween full moon perhaps? 👀

Author's Note: Of course, of course! The premise for this is that reader and Shin agreed to the whole 'hunting Shin down in the woods to have sex' thing. And Shin is basically all "oh noooo, please don't fuck me Mr. Werewolf! You're so sexy aha 😩". Ya know? XD

Pairings: Shinichiro x male reader

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom/trans!Shinichiro, prior consent, size kink, prey/predator play, scratching, mentions of knotting, Shin is a massive slut

Heart pounding in his ears and leg muscles burning; Shinichiro sprints at full speed, dodging large trees left and right. The sun has officially set, and now that it's dark out, it's difficult to see at all. Only the full moon—tinted a bright yellow—illuminates the area Shinichiro has found himself in.

He swerves to the side, ducking behind a particularly massive tree, and clamps a hand over his trembling lips.

Coast clear, he thinks. Until something snarls not too far from his position.

Shinichiro freezes — digging his nails into the tree bark as he attempts to stay hidden.

He squeezes his eyes shut, waiting. Listening.

Silence.

…

…

…

Tap tap

Something taps on Shinichiro's shoulder; something sharp, though it doesn't pierce the skin.

“Nice try, human.” a low, jagged voice says.

Shin's breath hitches, and he opens his eyes — his heart skips a beat once he takes in the beast before him; an imposing, towering wolfman with eyes that practically glow like the moon, dangerously sharp claws, and thick fur covering every inch of its body.

—

He's so fuckin' cute when he's scared.

You lean over, caging the human in with your massive hands and body. “Caught ya — now you're all mine~”

His legs shake at the sound of your voice. Shinichiro opens his mouth to speak, but no sound will come out as you push closer and nuzzle your cold, wet nose into his cheek. It leaves a slight wet streak as you trail down his jawline, down to his neck, and settle there. You hum against his skin, licking at the flesh — a layer of sweat leaves a salty taste on your tongue.

“Please–” Shin pleads, his voice airy and quivering. “what are you gonna do to me?”

A clawed hand traces down his arm, ghosting across his abdomen until it reaches the waistline of his jeans. “I need what's in here.” your fingers curl under the fabric and tug as you say this. The human visibly shudders.

“Wh-huh? Wait–!” the harsh sound of jeans tearing interrupts Shinichiro's pleading, and he frantically grasps your wrist. His scent hits you all at once, and you fall to your knees, licking your lips (snout?) as you picture the treasure that awaits just beyond the last barrier on his person — just a pair of gray boxers left, and then–

Your wet tongue glides along the space between Shinichiro's legs. A hint of the human's essence penetrates through the fabric and onto your tongue — and it damn near drives you mad. Shin winces as your claws dig into his hips, too impatient to hold back any longer. His boxers are yanked down to his ankles, and your mouth is on him in seconds, lapping away happily at his pussy.

The ambient sounds of owls hooting, crickets chirping, and other woodland creatures barely mask the slurping noises as you thoroughly eat your captured human out.

With one leg now thrown over your sturdy shoulder, your tongue dances around Shinichiro's pussy — teasing more of that delicious juice out until he's completely dripping. Then, you prod around inside, extending your tongue so you may reach every crevice within the human's warm, inviting walls.

Above you, Shinichiro is panting and moaning in confused tones. One hand grips the fur on your head — his fingers flex and curl repeatedly, unsure of what exactly to do with himself.

This isn't right. I shouldn't enjoy this, but… this thing's makin' me feel good… that tongue alone–

“O-oh… oooohh~ th-there! Right there!” he directs when you brush over his clit. You chuckle, sucking on it while your human's voice goes up an octave. His thighs shake as a lustful orgasm hits him, and his essence gushes out all over your face.

The sticky juices cling to your fur, dribbling down your chin when you pull away. You meet Shinichiro's half-lidded gaze, and he chuckles as his chest heaves from that tiring activity.

“Wow… haha, that actually felt amazing. Whew…” the human admits, placing a hand on his chest as he steadies his breathing. He uses his other hand to, seemingly, pet you as if you were a dog. Affectionately, too.

After allowing him a second to breathe, you tug his body towards you, correcting “I'm not finished with you yet, little human.” you push yourself up, extending until you're taller than him once again. “Mhm, I need–” you lift Shinichiro's body up and pin him to the tree, “–more. So much more.”

The human protests as you press your hips between his legs, forcing him to wrap them around you unless he wants to fall. His back suddenly arches and he chokes on a moan — he definitely feels it. The growing erection between your legs, the one that's pressing into his still wet cunt. There are no clothes to separate your body from his, so the head of your cock is fully pressing against Shinichiro's entrance. His pussy clenches and unclenches periodically, becoming wet again even as just the tip rests in between his folds.

“Can't we… talk about this?” Shin breathes.

Puuuush–

Too late — in a, somewhat, gentle manner, you ease your wolf cock into his little cunt. The noises that come out of him are frantic, yet there's a pleasurable undertone to them as well.

“Oooaaahh?! Mm big– mmMmMMm~” the human bites his bottom lip, grabbing your biceps for support and grounding. You push inside, inching in deeper so you won't literally split the human in half, and stay there a moment.

It's stretching his insides so, soooo good. Shinichiro involuntarily clenches his pussy around your dick, and you nearly howl at the new tightness. That's enough to get you rutting into him with hunger — grabbing his waist and moving him at your desired pace.

“Ow ow ow ow!” Shin winces.

“Am I going too fast, human?”

He shakes his head 'no', then corrects “The tree… digging into my shoulder blade…”

Ah. Whoops.

You think for a moment before pulling away from the tree and crouching down, carefully laying the human down on the ground covered in dead leaves — using your keen eyesight to avoid putting him on any sticks or rocks lying around.

All the while, you're still buried in his guts, and, in your new position, you manage to nudge in deeper, until the base of your growing knot is resting against his skin.

“Remove this…” you mumble, pulling at the bottom of Shinichiro's white t-shirt. He's hesitant, so you just yank it off for him.

The human gasps, covering his chest and avoiding your gaze. So adorably shy.

You have to pry his arms away and pin them above his head, then you admire his pretty chest before groping one side with your warm, furry hand. Beginning to thrust into his hole once more, you keep a steady rhythm while your tongue descends upon Shin's nipple. He squirms under your overwhelming stimulation, but there's nowhere to go with his arms—and whole body—stuck here. He can only gradually accept your lavish appreciation of his body parts.

The other side of his chest is next, receiving an equal amount of attention from your tongue and teeth — meanwhile, his pussy is almost squirting with every drag of your cock. In and out, in and out, roughly in, then sloooowly out– repeating similar patterns as you hit so far inside you're almost hitting his cervix.

“Haah- can't take… anymore…” he pants. “You'll break my pussy if you– aaahh~ if we keep going–”

You snort, “And you'd probably like that, wouldn't ya? Little whore.”

Shinichiro grumbles, but the blush on his face is too prominent to hide. As if his cunt didn't happily suck in your cock the moment you pressed against it, too.

“Besides, what about this–” you groan as your knot incessantly pushes closer to his gaping hole. It's swollen to three times the size it was earlier, and it feels much, much heavier than before.

The human panics, eyes wide and voice shrill as he exclaims; “Nononono hang on! I can't take your kn–ooooooohhhh fuck—!! Oooohh~”

[shytastemakerthing]

Hey there! Maybe this is an odd request but I was wondering if you could do a list or maybe write a few characters of your choice on who would find piercings or body mods most attractive vs who wouldn't? For example I have my tongue and angel fangs done, dye my hair constantly, and I plan on getting a cherry blossom tattoo on my back. Would the Pomefiore house turn their nose at that?? Would it be against the rules at Heartslabyul? Or are there characters that you think would immediately crush on someone who looked like that? If not feel free to ignore, but I was just wondering if I could get your take on this!

A/N: The amount of ideas that I have for this should be criminal XD. But for the sake of not turning this into one massive essay, we'll just cover the basics for each boy. Enjoy!

TW: None

Note: Ortho is strictly PLATONIC

Riddle: He isn't completely against piercings or tattoos, but given how he was raised, his mother certainly beat it into his head that such things were not okay and destroyed one's body. He's been working on that a bit. Certainly would like the single lobe piercings the most, especially if they were rose or flower themed. Tattoos? Yeah, that will take much more getting used to.

Trey: Look at this man and tell me he isn't into that. All he asks is that you take proper care of them. Will absolutely go with you to choose out more. He isn't fully opposed to tattoos, he just doesn't like that caused you pain throughout. But seeing the after makes it worth it

Cater: More of a piercings guy. Absolutely gets you more, whether it be from deals he gets, from his sisters, or he was scrolling and saw an add. Wants all the pictures. Not a fan of tattoos surprisingly. Would be more into the temporary ones or even henna

Ace: Heavily into both. Man looks at you and is fighting the heart eyes. There's just something so attractive about them that tickles his brain just right. If you were to get some kind of a small heart tattoo somewhere, much like the drawing he has under his eye, the ego boost would be insane.

Deuce: Slightly more into tattoos than the piercings. It's a serious thing, permanent in many cases, and it's a long and sometimes painful process. He admires the dedication. Often traces any that you have and 100% goes with you if you want to get another one

Leona: The man has a tattoo. Certainly more of a tattoo guy. Not to say he doesn't like piercings, he just feels like they would easily get in the way or pulled that makes them a bother. Now, tattoos? You're speaking his language. The moment you mention you want a new one, he's taking you to where he has gotten his, only the best is what you get, willing to spend as much as needed. After all, if you want a good tattoo, you must be willing to pay. 1000% find tattoos attractive

Ruggie: Not the biggest on either tbh. Mostly because they cost so much money and as someone who grew up not having much of it, would rather keep what he has than spend it on these.

Jack: Not a tattoo guy. Piercings are hot or miss for him. Depends on what they are and where. He loves seeing little moon or wolf earrings on you, something simple

Azul: Honestly, more of a tattoo guy. The permanence of them is what gets him. Being 100% positive that you want thing on your body for the rest of your life. Absolute game over if you get anything octopus related, he's ascended then and there. Man is so red, stumbling over his words, his brain shuts down. Absolutely traces it whenever it's just the two of you... yes, it has sometimes led to more.. heated moments

Jade: Absolutely a piercings guy. Doesn't matter where, he loves them and if you happen to get a set of moray eel ones or mushrooms for the ears, no one knows where both of you vanished too. Finds them more attractive than he would like to admit. Also goes with you if you want more

Floyd: It's about 50/50 for him, he likes both, leans more towards tattoos, though. Another tracer. Kisses them all of the time, gives little nibbles..... you got one of a moray (where is up to you), he's never been more attracted to you than in this moment. Also, no one knows where you guys went after that... he just wants... further examination

Kalim: Honestly a tattoo guy. Another who will fund when you want more. What you want, you get, and can honestly go a bit overboard, but he just wants to make sure you are happy with what you have! Has more wholesome intentions than the rest when he traces them

Jamil: Not the biggest fan of either. More of a henna tattoo guy if you want them. Will absolutely do them himself, the man is a natural. Plus, it's an intimate moment for the both of you and he enjoys the atmosphere

Vil: Surprisingly a piercing guy. He finds them attractive on you, especially when you pair them well with whatever you are wearing for the day. He can't explain it, but there is just something about a lip piercing that draws him in. His eyes are often drawn to your lips as it is anyways, the piercing isn't helping. If you have a tattoo somewhere hidden, that only he gets to see (may not be the biggest fan of them but knowing he is the only one to ever see it sends this man on a trip), sends a shudder down his spine

Rook: VERY much into both. Both send his brain in a million different directions. Traces them, kisses them, helps you change the piercings. intentions are not always the most pure, but that's the fun of it. Takes you for more, even recommends more bold piercings and offers options for tattoos

Epel: Piercing guy. More so, he just likes them. Likes how they look or would shine. Just more of a pleasant thing he likes to see. Gets you little apple studs to put in your ears.

Idia: Honestly? He leans either way.But anything that relates to his interests or pomegranates (if you know, you know), and the man is a goner. Hair is entirely pink as he tries to avert his gaze. Funds more for you all of the time, he has the money for it and he loves to spoil you. Absolutely traces tattoos while you are asleep. If you're awake? Will absolutely lead to heated moments

Ortho: Helps you make sure that new tattoos and piercings are kept nice and clean! We can't have you getting any infections. He doesn't want anything happening to his best friend, after all! If you are looking for something new for your piercings, will have the best shops available with the best metals to use.

Malleus: Surprisingly, a tattoo guy. If you get a dragon, he is gone.... and so are you. Congrats, you're married now. Just the thought that you are willing to sit there for hours under a needle piercing your skin brings a new sort of admiration. Starts with pure intentions, but instincts get the best of him

Lilia: Piercing guy all the way, he loves them. Recommends all different types and styles. Bats are the most common that he finds for you. Intentions are nowhere near being pure most of the time, knowing him. Especially with a lip or tongue piercing, kisses you all of the time

Silver: Surprisingly big into both of them. Again, it's the permanence of them, something that he loves. Like Epel, just enjoys the meaning they may have and how they would look on you.

Sebek: HEAR ME OUT! Big on both of them all of the way, especially piercings. Again, some of it is a dedication thing for him, but there is just something about a tongue piercing that riles him up a bit, most because the way that it feels during more intimate moments that you would both have with one another. Tattoos are a dedication that he admires all the way. You have one croc related and he is a goner

Have a wonderful day/night!

[vixstarria]

A night at the inn (part 2)

Smut galore!

Part 1 here - it's the build-up to this, but not required reading if you're just after some smut

Astarion x Tav x Halsin, Astarion x F!Reader x Halsin

18+, smut, threesome, porn no plot, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV, various kinks in passing, soft dom Astarion, Astarion being a little shit

Approx. 2,700 words (what the hell, how did that happen)

AO3

“Is it company or privacy you desire?” 

You and Astarion, who had been lying on top of you, one of your legs wrapped around his hips, turned your heads towards the druid, who paused in the doorway.  

Astarion turned back to you to give you a wicked look, as though to say it was your call, before untangling himself from you, with a final slow teasing roll of his hips.    

“It seems... Astarion desires a show…" You followed him with your gaze as he got up to pour himself more wine, searching for any signs of apprehension or anything that resembled a slipping mask. You saw no such thing. “...And I desire to indulge him,” you added, turning to look at the druid.  

“Only a show?” Halsin frowned, but stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I am more than happy to accommodate that, only I thought you of all people would like to take part,” he added, looking at Astarion.  

“It’s... complicated,” said Astarion, sliding back onto the bed and letting you lean back against him. “Darling, would you care to explain our current arrangement to our friend?” he asked, trailing a finger down your neck, sending a tinging shiver down your spine.  

“Astarion has been taking a break from anything below the waist, for himself...” 

“Say no more, I understand,” said Halsin.  

Astarion raised his glass and nodded towards Halsin, glad to not need to explain himself any further, before taking a sip.  

"And you?” Halsin asked, his voice a low and sensual rumble, his eyes piercing through you. Now that the smaller details were out of the way, you suddenly realised just what you had gotten yourself into, and you found yourself at a rare loss for words.  

You’ve done this before, but never in such fine company. And never with the added complication of having to take anyone’s feelings into consideration. 

Astarion’s fingers slid further down, below your collarbone, and slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, circling down to one of your breasts. 

“You are not taking any ‘breaks'?” Halsin continued, approaching the bed, breaking eye contact briefly to follow the motions of Astarion's hand, as he started to roll and pinch one of your nipples, before looking back into your eyes, quizzically.  

You'd hardly started, and already you felt utterly exposed, a heat growing beneath your stomach. You were completely overwhelmed. Articulating anything was impossible.  

“Darling..?” Astarion said, softly, when you did not reply. “Are you with us?” 

“No breaks, only insatiable cravings,” you managed, wetting your lips. You tilted your head back to look into Astarion’s wine-coloured eyes. “I think I need you to take control,” you murmured. 

“Oh? Getting timid all of a sudden?” he set his wine down to brush your lower lip with his thumb. “You want me to tell him how to scratch your itch? Make sure he does it right?”   

“I trust you,” you nodded, swallowing.  

Astarion breathed a quick soundless laugh and gave you a brief but tender kiss.  

“Very well...” he lifted his gaze to regard Halsin. “Her sweet lips are mine, but you can have free reign over the rest of her, unless she says otherwise,” said Astarion. “My love you will speak up if there is anything you don’t enjoy?” he asked, lifting your chin to make you look at him. “I can’t make every decision for you, pet.”  

You nodded. Halsin took it as a cue to finally break the distance between you. He started by lifting your leg to unlace your boots. 

“What do you want to see?” he asked Astarion. 

“Hmm,” he deliberated. “I think... No, I know she wants to be fucked senseless. Don’t you, pet? Tell us.” he urged with a devilish grin, his eyes still locked on yours, as you managed a weak ‘mmhmm’. “Let’s see that.”   

Halsin pulled off your boots and before you knew what was happening, one of your feet was in his mouth. You gasped as you felt his tongue swirling between your toes. 

“I knew he was absolutely feral!” laughed Astarion. “No no, let him do it,” he added as you squirmed. “But you are completely overdressed for all this, love.”  

Astarion pulled your blouse off over your head, exposing your breasts, and began to undo the lacing on your pants. Halsin attempted to pull them off but they got stuck around your knees. For the first time since you've met him, you saw exasperation on the druid's face, as he struggled. 

“I would outlaw clothing if I could,” he growled.  

This seemed to amuse Astarion to no end, as he fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. You somehow ended up being flipped onto your stomach and into Astarion's arms by Halsin, in his fight with your trousers. You giggled as he finally managed to pull them off.  

”Are all your dirty dreams coming true, darling?” Astarion whispered to you, kissing your neck below your ear. 

You felt Halsin's bulk lower himself onto you, holding himself up over you and Astarion with his arms to either of your sides. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses down your back, starting from the opposite side of your neck. You were caught between the coolness of Astarion's skin and the heat that was radiating from Halsin's body.  

“This is impossible,” Halsin groaned as he realised that you were still in your smallclothes. Having run out of patience he resorted to simply tearing them off you in a swift and deliberate motion.  

You let out an involuntary squeal as Astarion wedged a knee between your legs and used it to spread them apart for the druid. 

“Be a good girl now and don't cause any more trouble,” he purred. You hummed your assent and lifted your hips up, your face buried in Astarion's neck. 

Halsin's tongue plunged into you, lapping up your wetness, making you let out a moan.  

Astarion tangled his fingers into your hair at the back of your head, near the roots, and pulled on it to lift your head up. 

“I want to see your face while his tongue is in you,” he whispered. “He’s being good to you, isn’t he?” You held Astarion's gaze as Halsin continued to lick between your legs. You tried and failed to stifle another moan and arched your back further, as he dipped lower to tease your clit with his tongue. Astarion moved his hand to caress your face, before parting your lips with his thumb. You caught it in your mouth. “Yes, I can tell he is... But you want more, don’t you?” You sucked on his thumb and nodded with a whimper, looking into his eyes. “Don’t be shy... Tell us what you want...” You grazed Astarion's thumb with your teeth and giggled, shaking your head. You knew he wouldn’t let it slide though.  

“You brat,” he smiled, his eyes narrowing, before looking past your shoulder and raising his voice. “Don’t give her anything unless she asks for it, nicely. In fact, you should stop what you’re doing now.”  

To your dismay, the druid lifted his head from you. 

“It would be my pleasure to help teach her manners,” he said. He stroked your wet slit with his fingers in place of his tongue, but it was only a tease that made you crave more.  

“Beg him,” Astarion said, grinning, pulling your hair to turn your head sideways, so you could take in a view of the druid over your shoulder. 

You shot daggers at Astarion with your eyes. You were glad he was enjoying himself so much, but this man, who had been flicking his tongue over your asshole just seconds prior, was supposed to adhere to your authority at tomorrow morning’s itinerary discussion meeting.   

“Please...” you managed.  

“Please what?” smirked Astarion.  

“I may have a hunch about what she wants,” said Halsin, slipping a single finger in, shallowly, just one phalange deep, and sliding it in and out of you, teasingly. “Is this it?” 

“No, no, she needs to say it herself,” interjected Astarion.  

“I want more...” you moaned. 

“More?” Halsin slipped a second finger in, keeping it agonisingly shallow. 

“Your cock! I want your cock deep in me... Please...” you were too frustrated to care anymore.  

“Good girl...” purred Astarion. “I’m going to remember this, you know,” he added with a smirk. “Next time you get too sassy with me, I’ll just recall our fearless leader begging for dick.” 

“Listen here, you-” you started, exasperated, but were cut off by him pulling you into a deep kiss. He trailed his hand down your stomach until his fingers reached your slit, dipping in. You moaned into his mouth as he began to gently roll your swollen clit between his fingers the way he knew you liked.  

You heard Halsin discarding his own clothes behind you, and were about to turn to look back, but Astarion held your chin.  

“Ah-ah, no peeking! Let’s keep it a surprise.” He looked over your shoulder. “A very... big... surprise.” 

You felt Halsin start to work his way in with his cock, in slow, rolling thrusts, gradually filling you, inch by inch. You were completely soaked, and stretched to accommodate him, but gods he felt huge. Exactly as big as you would expect by looking at the sheer size of the druid himself. 

You whimpered as he filled you completely and began his deliberate, rhythmic thrusts.  

“More than what you’d bargained for, darling?” Astarion whispered in your ear, continuing to rub your clit. “But you’re taking it so well, my good girl...” All you could do was whimper and moan, as he continued to stroke you and whisper obscenities to you. “That huge cock, all for you...” 

“She’s starting to quiver around me already,” groaned Halsin.  

“Is she now?” Astarion removing his fingers from your clit. “Do we need to talk about manners again? You don’t want to be rude to our friend by coming so soon and all by yourself, do you?”  

“I’ll be good, just don’t stop, please” you whimpered. You could not handle another interruption. 

“You have some catching up to do,” Astarion directed at Halsin.  

Halsin’s thrusts sped up to an infernal pace, as Astarion pulled on your hair again to lick and nip at your exposed neck, running his tongue over your fresh puncture wounds, where it still felt so sweet for you.  

“I’ll be generous, I know how much you want it,” Astarion rasped in your ear. “I want it too.” 

He resumed rubbing circles around your clit and you found yourself falling to pieces, a mewling mess. 

“Don’t get shy now... That’s it... Let us hear how much you like it,” Astarion continued, hoarsely. 

You felt the first ripples of your climax coming on, your moans mounting louder and deeper with each wave.  

“Fuck her through her orgasm. She likes that,” Astarion threw over your shoulder.  

Halsin’s thrusts somehow got even harder then, and you screamed into Astarion’s neck as your pleasure completely overtook you. The sound of skin slapping on skin had already been loud enough to hear halfway across the inn, if anyone in the adjacent rooms had been sleeping through that, they were awake now.  

Halsin’s penis slipped out of you and you collapsed, melting into Astarion’s embrace, no longer able to keep yourself up.  

“Still enjoying yourself, my sweet?” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear. “Do you want more?” 

“Gods, yes,” you answered.  

“We’re not done yet,” he said louder, with a grin, as Halsin pulled you off the vampire by your waist, flipping you onto your back on the bed.

You spread your legs as Halsin settled between them, sitting up. He couldn’t have been far himself, as he entered you again, with quick, needful thrusts, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, and you raised your hands to hold them, pinching your own nipples. 

“What a sight you are...” purred Astarion, off to your side. “Let us enjoy the view better.”  

You let go of your breasts and raised yourself on your elbows, eager to enjoy a view yourself as you watched Halsin’s cock ram you, slick with your wetness.  

Suddenly you were distracted by Astarion unlacing his pants to release his pulsing cock. Unable to contain his need any longer, he began to stroke himself. You couldn’t look away. 

“Can I have it in my mouth..? Please..?” you implored.  

There had to be a delicate balance to your pleading.  

You knew he didn’t want to feel pressured. Not even by your need and desperation.  

You also knew how he wanted to be wanted. He loved to hear you beg. He revelled in it. In the knowledge that he had such a grasp on your arousal. He would often tease you relentlessly. Usually, he would allow you to find your release eventually, whether with his fingers or tongue, or just from grinding against him. A few times, you pleasured yourself for him, while he watched. But sometimes, it was just a ‘no’ despite the teasing he had initiated himself. Being in control was another thing he revelled in.  

“Desperate, are we?” he breathed. 

“Astarion, please... Anything... Just a taste.” 

He lifted your chin, angling your face toward him. 

“Just the tip, with your tongue. I’ll take all your treats away if you get too greedy.” 

You hadn’t done this since before your talk about wanting something real together. Your heart just about leapt into your throat.  

He continued to stroke himself as you swirled your tongue around the swollen head of his penis, licking up his precum, looking into his eyes.

“I’ve missed this too, my sweet” he murmured as he watched you through his eyelashes, his voice thick. 

Halsin was being a complete menace, rubbing your clit and licking the arch of your foot, and you started to get carried away, close to climaxing again, and wrapped your mouth around the tip of Astarion’s cock. 

“Ah-ah! Make sure she behaves,” Astarion said to Halsin. 

Halsin pinched your clit, just enough to make you jump and distract you. You moaned and continued with just your tongue, as Halsin pounded into you.  

“Shall I go easy on her?” Halsin asked.  

“Absolutely not,” said Astarion. “Just a little longer, love. You can hold out longer for me, can’t you?” he asked you, stroking your cheek with his hand.   

This was becoming impossible. Between Halsin’s incessant thrusts and stroking of your clit, and your added arousal from finally being able to taste Astarion, you were losing your mind. But you did not want to come before he did.  

“I can’t!” you gasped between strokes with your tongue. “I can’t...’ 

Halsin took some mercy on you then, pausing the circles he had been drawing around your clit, as everything else continued. 

Astarion was breathing harder, stroking himself faster.  

“You can come for us now... Come for me...” he rasped. 

Two more firm strokes of Halsin’s thumb, and you came undone again, your walls clenching around Halsin, your legs shaking, just as Astarion’s cum filled your mouth, some of it spilling and leaking down your chin and the corner of your mouth. You were completely spent, as you swallowed what you could. You barely even registered Halsin pulling out his cock to spill his own seed all over your chest and stomach. 

Astarion knelt down next to you, trying to regain his breath, and pressed his forehead against yours briefly, before drawing you into a kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. You felt his lips breaking into a smile as you kissed.  

A short while later you lounged on the bed, your head on Astarion’s stomach as he played with your hair, your legs thrown across Halsin’s lap. Halsin was fiddling with his herbs and pipes again.  

“Care for more catnip?” he asked Astarion. 

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Astarion rolled his eyes. “But yes. ...Only to prove that it’s not going to do anything this time!” 

Sure enough, a minute later Astarion once again sat with a ditsy expression, on the verge of breaking out into inane giggling. 

“Gods, I’m not sure I can handle him like this again,” you sighed, shooting Halsin a reproachful look. 

“This is a beautiful, glorious thing - he is embracing the opportunity to get reacquainted with nature,” the druid shrugged. 

“Tell us about the bear you fucked again,” Astarion tittered.  

~~~

Part 3

AO3

Hope you enjoyed, check out my other work

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Go in Shadows

Pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Alcohol use, drunken behaviour, referenced drug use, angst, eventual smut. Word count: ~8.5k

Summary: Summers spent with her best friend, Helaena, are the highlight of her year. However, a week-long stay at her place does not go as she expects it to when surrounded by one Targaryen brother that she pines for unrequitedly, and another that can't seem to stand her.

Author's note: For @lauraneedstochill. Thank you to @aegonx for giving this a once over for me before I kicked it out of the door. No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

The grass tickles delicately at the backs of her bare thighs, causing her to squirm and change position, pulling the hem of her floral summer dress lower as she crosses her legs. It’s a hot and sunny Friday afternoon in July, and she’s making the most of her four day working week by spending her day off in the park with her best friend, Helaena.

Summer has always been her favourite time of year, from the six week long holidays of secondary school to the three month university breaks, and now the stolen afternoons and all too brief weekends of the working week. Helaena has been at her side for all of them. Summer is their time, a season in which their friendship has always thrived, fortified beneath a sun that never sets.

Helaena pauses, keeping the daisy chain she’s making in her hands still as she leans forward ever so slightly, watching intently at the wasp that buzzes around the open bottle neck of Koppaberg Cider that rests beside her, the heat of the day causing droplets of moisture to sweat from the glass.

“That’s going to drown in your cider, if you aren’t careful,” she warns her.

“Mmm,” Helaena muses dreamily, her eyes never leaving the wasp. “It wants the sugar.”

She watches for a few more moments, before it flies away, and then her attention turns back to her daisy chain, her numb nail piercing through the stem of the flower, before threading another through.

“Did your annual leave get approved for next week?” Helaena asks, blue eyes lifting from the floral chain in her hands to look at her hopefully.

“Yeah, I’m all set,” she says excitedly, before taking a swig of her own cider, relishing the way the sweet, berry flavour fizzes against her tongue. “So, what’s the plan?”

It’s not a question she really even needs to ask. It’s the same every year; Alicent takes a week-long trip to Oldtown to visit her father, Otto, and ever since Helaena was considered old enough to no longer accompany her, she stays behind, and the kids are left with a free house. She stays for the entire week, the house large enough that it feels like a holiday without needing to leave King’s Landing. They enjoy seven unsupervised days of swimming in the pool, raiding the fridge, and the inevitable rowdy and out of control parties that Helaena’s older brother, Aegon, insists upon throwing.

And therein lies the real reason she’s asking; to check which of the brothers will be in attendance. She has fancied Aegon for as long as she can remember, though he has never given her a second look beyond viewing her as his younger sister’s best friend. She exists in his shadow, laughing at all of his jokes, living for every thousand watt smile he casts her way, overlooking his often drunken, reckless behaviour, and pretending she doesn’t feel a burning sense of envy at the seemingly never ending rotation of girls he goes out with. His shadow seems to be where she is destined to remain forever, desperate to experience the warmth of his attention turned to her even once. The unrequited feelings weigh heavy upon her heart, tormenting her with soaring hope and devastating reality in equal measure.

As if able to read her mind, Helaena sighs. “Aegon’s going to be there…and Aemond too.”

She groans at this. Helaena’s younger brother, another bane of her existence, though for a completely different reason to Aegon. Aemond genuinely seems to loathe her, actively going out of his way to avoid her, refusing to even look at her if they’re in the same room. His responses are curt, bordering upon rudeness when she has tried previously to engage him in conversation, and so she has given up, taking to ignoring him just as he does to her, though it does not come as naturally to her as it does him. She feels her skin prickle in his presence, fidgeting uncomfortably at the shift in energy in the room whenever he enters. Back in secondary school, she had made an attempt to forge a bond with him, by approaching him with the history essay she was due to hand in, and asking for him to take a look at it in case there were any improvements he thought she could make.

Aemond had scoffed as he’d looked it over, sliding the papers back across the table towards her with a harsh flick of his wrist. “Derivative,” he’d commented dismissively. “The point you’re trying to make is too diffuse for you to adequately summarise it. If you were to improve it, you’d simply have to rewrite it.”

She had walked away holding back tears, bitterly regretting her decision to attempt to extend an olive branch. When the essay had been given back to her she had been awarded an A grade, which made Aemond’s comments even more baffling to her.

“Great,” she says with a roll of her eyes, “assuming he’ll have Alys to keep him busy?”

Helaena gives a solemn shake of her head. “They aren’t together anymore, so please try to be nice to him.”

She looks at Helaena incredulously. “Be nice to him?! Hel, Aemond hates me!”

“He doesn’t,” she replies with a gentle certainty.

“You don’t know that,” she huffs, swigging from her cider bottle once more.

“I do, actually,” Helaena utters, before turning her attention back to her daisy chain.

She feels that Helaena infuriates her almost as much as her brothers do sometimes. Bloody Targaryens.

A week later, her out of office is on and her bags are packed.

Helaena takes her bags, depositing them into an entryway closet to deal with later, the moment she steps through the door of the house, ushering her into the kitchen.

“Want to chop some stuff for me?” She asks. “I’m going to make a jug of Pimm’s for us all to drink by the pool.”

“Us all?” She asks, moving towards the chopping board on the kitchen side, where an assortment of strawberries, mint and cucumber has been set out, ready to be cut up.

“Yeah,” Helaena says, opening a cupboard and rummaging inside of it. “Me, you…Aemond, and Aegon…Aegon’s friend…”

Helaena’s voice tapers off as she pulls a glass jug from a shelf, her gaze turning towards the kitchen doorway.

She looks up from where she has been quartering a strawberry, her grip around the knife handle tightening subconsciously as she takes in the sight of Aegon standing there. But it’s not Aegon that is the issue, it’s the pretty brunette that’s standing next to him.

“Just wondering what’s taking so bloody long with the Pimm’s?” He asks, glancing between her and Helaena. “Are you fermenting the gin from scratch?”

“Hel was waiting for me to arrive,” she offers as a meek explanation, feeling her skin grow warm as he looks at her. “Hi, by the way.”

He fires off a mock salute at her, the casual gesture making her insides wither with disappointment. She was a fool to have expected anything more.

“I’m Cassandra,” the girl standing next to him pipes up with a cheerful smile, “nice to meet you.”

Aegon startles, as if suddenly realising she’s there, turning to look at Cassandra quickly before facing back towards her and Helaena.

“Oh yeah, Cass is gonna be staying for the week. Her brother’s brewery is supplying us with the kegs for Saturday.”

Cassandra nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright. “Royce owns Storm’s End brewery, he’s gonna sort us out with the beer for the party.”

“Lovely,” she says with a tight smile, lowering her eyes back to the chopping board and slicing into a cucumber with more aggression than is necessary. 

“Why don’t you go and get comfy by the pool, Cass,” Aegon says, ushering her away with a smack on the bottom. “I’ll make sure these two hurry the fuck up with the drinks.”

Helaena’s eyes narrow once Cassandra is out of earshot, looking at Aegon as she empties a full bottle of Pimm’s into the glass jug. “You’re sleeping with one of the Baratheon sisters to get free beer? That’s low even for you.”

Aegon shrugs with a smirk. “I’m not above schmoozing for booze, Hel.”

“You’re a pig,” she retorts softly, moving to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of lemonade. “What about what happened with Floris and Aemond?”

Aegon snorts derisively, leaning against the doorframe. “They only kissed.”

“And then she stalked him afterwards…”

“The week of a thousand texts!”

“Fifty seven to be precise. You remember, right?” She asks, turning to her friend for back up.

“Yeah, didn’t Aemond ghost her because she used the incorrect version of ‘your’ in a message?”

Helaena nods. “Yes, that was mean, and she didn’t deserve that. But sending someone so many texts when they clearly aren’t going to reply is a bit…” She wrinkles her nose. “...overbearing.”

“And she left him a five minute long voicemail,” Aegon titters.

“Yeah, you’re a pig,” Helaena insists, sloshing lemonade into the Pimm’s.

“Oh well. Hurry up!” Aegon demands with a clap of his hands, before walking away.

She hands Helaena the chopping board, now laden with chopped up garnishes and watches as she scrapes it into the jug, before stirring it.

Looking up, Helaena takes in the pained expression of her friend, her face softening. “Trust me, as Aegon’s sister, he’s not worth it.”

“I’m fine,” she quips unconvincingly, moving away to fetch glasses from another cupboard. “He’s just messing around.”

“I just think if you’re looking for someone who genuinely cares about you, then you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“What does that mean?” She asks, taking down five glass tumblers from the shelf.

“Just…don’t close yourself off to other possibilities.”

Helaena takes the jug and heads outside to the pool, before she has a chance to respond.

Always so cryptic. It’s infuriating.

To her horror, as she heads out into the garden, glasses gripped between her fingers, Helaena has set herself up on the sun lounger on the furthest end, leaving the only one free between her and Aemond.

She sets the glasses down on the patio table, next to the Pimm’s jug and takes a moment to steel herself, before heading over. Wordlessly, she lays down on the sun lounger, trying to suppress the unease that ripples beneath her skin at the imposing figure of Aemond next to her. His sun lounger has its back propped up, and he sits bolt upright, long silver hair pulled up into a bun and a pair of black Ray Bans perched upon the bridge of his aquiline nose as he reads a philosophy book.

Pretentious twat.

“Aemond, pour us all some Pimm’s,” Helaena says lazily, leaning back on her lounger and propping an arm above her head.

His brow furrows momentarily before he responds. “Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you haven’t done anything to help out with our gathering yet.”

“It’s your gathering,” he retorts, “I just happen to live here. I’m not an active participant.”

She sighs, not wanting to listen to any more of their bickering. “It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

“No, I will,” Aemond snaps, standing abruptly and setting his book down, before storming over to the table.

“Christ, what a prick,” she mutters to herself as she watches him go.

An hour later, she has changed into her bikini, and is laying on her front on her sun lounger, the remnants of her glass of Pimm’s turning warm in the sunshine beside it, as she loses herself in a historical fiction novel.

She can feel the heat prickling at her skin, and knows she ought to have put suncream on before coming back outside, she’ll burn if she continues to lay there. Sighing, she places her book on the patio next to her glass and sits up, reaching for the bottle which lays discarded beneath where Helaena is currently laying, dozing beneath her makeshift blanket of a beach towel.

She applies the lotion generously to her face, arms, legs and the exposed parts of her torso, stopping when she realises she is unable to reach her back. Looking over at Helaena, she can see she is still fast asleep, lulled into unconsciousness by warmth and alcohol.

Aegon and Cassandra sit by the edge of the pool with their feet submerged, talking and laughing as they drink what’s left of the Pimm’s directly from the jug, passing it back and forth. She would honestly rather die than go over there and risk the embarrassment of asking either one of them to help her.

Grunting with the strain of stretching her arms as far behind her as they’ll go, she attempts to spread sun cream on the rapidly reddening flesh of her shoulder blades.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Aemond sighs exasperatedly, slamming his book closed. “Give it here!”

“What?” She freezes, embarrassment enveloping her like a shroud.

“Insulting as it is that you would rather attempt to wrench your arms free of their sockets than ask me for help, I can’t help but find your pathetic little display highly distracting. Give me the sun scream, I’ll do it for you.”

She is stunned into silence by the offer, her stomach erupting into nervous flutters at the idea of someone who hates her so much actually offering to help her, and with something so intimate too. She passes him the bottle, praying he doesn’t notice the way her hand trembles, doing her best to avoid the piercing gaze of his singular seeing eye.

“Turn around then,” he commands, after a few moments of silence.

“Oh…right, of course….yeah!” 

A fresh wave of humiliation washes over her, and she finds herself grateful for the opportunity to face away from him as she repositions, glad that she doesn’t have to see the hands of her best friend’s petulant younger brother moving over her body.

Her breath hitches when his fingers make first contact with her skin, though she does her best to suppress the accompanying squeak of surprise that had wanted to accompany it. His touch is gentler than she had anticipated, soft and careful as he works to spread the cream evenly across her back and shoulders. She feels herself relax, nervous tension evaporating as she focuses on the press of his fingertips against her flesh.

“How is life at the library treating you?” He asks casually, as he applies more cream to his fingers, spreading it across the lower part of her back.

“How do you know I work at the library?” She asks, surprised by his knowledge of her job.

“Your best friend is my older sister,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, though what he says next is expressed with hesitant shyness. “...and I walk past it sometimes…see you in there…”

“Ah,” is all she’s able to reply, shocked but also annoyed with herself. This is the most Aemond has ever spoken to her, and she’s so rattled by it she can’t reciprocate the effort within the conversation he’s trying to strike up.

When she hears the cap on the sun cream bottle click closed, she finally seizes the opportunity to speak. “I was sorry to hear about you and Alys,” she says softly, “you guys were cute together.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he tells her cooly, tossing the bottle onto the towel next to her before standing up and walking back inside.

She watches him go over her shoulder, silently cursing herself for her thoughtlessness in bringing up such a sensitive topic.

Aemond avoids her for the rest of the day, and much of the next, until the following evening when Aegon and Helaena decide that a barbecue is a good idea.

The sky is a muted blue, the final vestige of daytime clinging to it, delaying the inevitable setting of the sun, as the air hangs thick with humidity, exacerbated from the smoke that billows upwards from the barbecue.

“Is there room for my veggie sausages?” Helaena asks, peering over Aegon’s shoulder as he stands at the sizzling grill, a bottle of beer in one hand and tongs in the other, turning pieces of chicken.

“Yeah, in the bin,” he replies smugly, before swigging from his beer bottle.

She can’t help but giggle quietly at the remark as she stirs dressing into the bowl of salad that rests upon the patio table.

Helaena tuts, holding out the packet towards her older brother. “Don’t be selfish!”

“Ugh, fine,” Aegon scoffs with a roll of his eyes, setting his bottle down and snatching the packet from her.

She watches as he moves the meat on the grill to one side, before unceremoniously dumping out the sausages into the empty space. She huffs a laugh, shaking her head at his immaturity. 

Placing the salad bowl in the centre of the table, she’s about to reach for a packet of bread rolls to open, when Cassandra breezes out into the garden, laden with plates and cutlery.

“Why do you have six of everything?” Helaena asks suspiciously, fiddling with the corkscrew in the top of a bottle of wine. “There are only five of us.”

Cassandra gives a dismissive shrug. “Must have been miscounted,” she says, before joining Aegon at the barbecue, fussing at him for overcooking everything.

By the time they all sit around the table, a stony faced Aemond now having joined them, she is impressed by the spread that they have managed to pull together. Chicken, burgers and kebabs sit piled on a platter, though slightly burned. Salad, cold pasta, bread and dips accompany it all, and Helaena has ensured everyone has a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc.

The sky has begun to darken, a purple aura surrounding the burned orange glow that hangs low on the horizon, a pretty contrast to the fairy lights that are strung along the fence and overhead of where they sit.

She is trading the salad bowl for the plate of rolls with Helaena when Cassandra glances at her phone, so she barely notices when she excuses herself from the table with a flippant “be right back!”

A few moments later, she almost chokes on her wine, setting her glass down heavily upon the table and pressing her palm to her chest as she swallows forcefully. 

Cassandra has reappeared in the garden, this time with her sister, Floris, at her side.

“Oh god,” Helaena mutters under her breath, setting down her knife and fork.

Considering the way Aegon’s eyes visibly widen, it’s clear he doesn’t know that Cassandra had planned this.

Aemond sits with his back facing the patio door, so is the last to turn to look.

“Room for one more?” Floris asks with a bright smile.

Aemond whips back around in his seat, fury reflected in his right eye as he glares at Aegon, his voice dripping with venom. “Absolutely not.”

Aegon holds up his hands defensively, shoulders pulling up towards his ears. “I didn’t know!”

Ignoring the obvious tension in the air, Cassandra returns to her place next to Aegon, while Floris plops down into the empty seat between her and Aemond. She is sure she sees him physically recoil from her.

“Cassandra told me all about you and Alys,” Floris coos softly, placing her hand over the top of Aemond’s, “I thought perhaps you’d need a friend.”

“You’re not my friend,” Aemond glowers, snatching his hand back.

“Yeah, he doesn’t have any,” Aegon laughs, draping his arm around the back of Cassandra’s chair.

“Stop it,” Helaena hisses at him.

“You know, I think you’re being kind of rude,” Floris says to Aemond, “I’m just trying to be nice.”

“You know what I think is rude?” He spits back. “Not being able to take a fucking hint, turning up to someone’s house uninvited. That is rude.”

“I invited her,” Cassandra cuts in, though she shrinks back the moment that Aemond directs his angry gaze towards her.

“And who the fuck are you?! A vapid little nobody that my brother has decided is his flavour of the week.”

“Are you going to let him speak to me like that?!” Cassandra demands, looking expectantly at Aegon.

Aegon cringes outwardly, pulling his arm back from Cassandra’s chair. “This doesn’t really involve me, to be honest,” he tells her awkwardly.

“God, you’re pathetic!” She seethes, standing abruptly, causing the legs of her chair to scrape loudly against the patio. “Come on, Floris, we’re leaving.”

Floris stands, scowling down at Aemond as she does so. “You know, for someone who has—” she gestures towards his face, pointing specifically at his prosthetic eye, “you’d think you’d be more grateful for the attention.”

She flounces off alongside her sister, leaving the four of them in stunned silence. Helaena looks as though she wants to burst into tears, Aegon stares blankly across the table, fingers spinning his wine glass around by its stem, while Aemond quietly seethes with rage.

“Well, that was awkward,” Aegon finally says, reaching for more chicken.

The slamming of Aemond’s fist upon the table causes them all to startle, the force of it rattling the plates and glasses. They all look at him, wide eyed, as he stands up silently and walks back into the house.

She feels awful for the way Floris had spoken to him, and is desperate to make up for her earlier blunder, after fumbling their conversation so horribly. She can’t stand the thought of him being alone and upset, when both of his siblings are clearly in no position to offer comfort.

“I’ll go after him,” she says softly, rising from her seat and walking back into the house.

She finds Aemond in the foyer, about to head upstairs. 

“Wait,” she calls out, “I just wanted to see if you’re okay?”

“Never better,” he says sullenly, though he pauses and turns to face her.

“What Floris said was really uncalled for. Please don’t listen to her,” she tells him sympathetically, her eyes pleading as she looks up at him.

“I said I’m fine,” he insists, refusing to look her in the eye.

“You don’t have to pretend, it’s okay not to–”

“What are you, a fucking therapist?!” He rages, causing her to shrink back.

“No, I was just trying to make you feel better,” she whispers meekly.

“Well, don’t,” he snaps back, “I don’t need your faux sympathy or your positivity buzzword bullshit.”

Her brow furrows as she feels annoyance prickle at her. None of this is her fault, she’s just trying to offer support, yet despite that he is lashing out at her anyway. Her mouth opens, the words leaving it before she has the chance to consider them. “You are such a miserable fucking twat, no wonder Alys finished with you!”

She regrets what she said the moment she sees the fury blaze within his right eye. Instinctively, she steps away, her back hitting the wall as he advances towards her. And then his lips are crushing against hers, causing her to squeak in surprise as he kisses her hungrily, his large hand cupping her jaw. She grips the front of his shirt, his fists balling into the material, unsure of if she wants to pull him closer or push him away. But she finds herself responding, her mouth moving against his, lips parting to allow his tongue entrance, letting it lick against hers.

Nervousness and excitement swirl like a maelstrom in her belly. She could never have anticipated this. What the hell are they doing? Aemond hates her, doesn’t he?

When they finally part for air, their breathing is ragged. Aemond stares down at her, lips parted and pupil dilated. “Do you want to come upstairs?” He asks lowly.

The question makes her heart feel as though it has stopped beating. It’s one thing to kiss Helaena’s younger brother, but another entirely to entertain the idea of sleeping with him.

She falters, trying her best to speak coherently. “I…um…I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

Aemond pulls back, his face hardening back to blank stoicism in an instant. She immediately feels the loss of him, the space that his warmth had previously occupied suddenly feeling chilly.

“Of course,” he mutters darkly, “I would hate to cut into the time you spend following my brother around like a pathetic dog.”

The statement makes her feel as though she has had a bucket of ice water thrown over her, hurt and humiliation spreading hotly throughout her body, as tears sting at the rims of her eyes. He disappears up the stairs before she can say anything in response, leaving her alone in the foyer to compose herself, wondering what on earth just happened.

She scrubs her hands over her face, drawing in a few steadying breaths, before turning to head back outside. Helaena is already in the kitchen, wrapping plates of food in cling film. She looks up when she sees her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Need any help?” She asks.

“No, I’m all good. There’ll be leftovers in the fridge, if you want any.”

She utters a quiet thanks, before stepping outside, her eyes immediately drawn to Aegon who sits at the edge of the pool, paddling his feet, illuminated by only the pool lamps and soft fairy lights that are strung up around the garden. The sky hangs velvety black above them, stars twinkling in the distance.

Kicking off her flip flops, she sits beside him, dunking her own feet into the coolness of the water.

“Cassandra seemed pretty angry with you,” she says gently.

“Yeah,” Aegon replies, keeping his eyes fixed on the beer bottle he has clasped in both hands. “She’ll be back though.”

“You seem certain of that.”

“Well, I am irresistible,” he says, looking up at her with a grin. “And she’s left all her stuff here…”

She chuckles softly, facing forward again, a thousand things rushing through her mind that she wants to say to Aegon. Tonight couldn’t possibly get any messier, so why not speak her mind?

“Aegon…” she begins, unable to look at him, knowing the moment she does, all of her thoughts will unravel. “I think you know how I feel about you, why have we never…why won’t you…”

She sighs in frustration, unable to finish her train of thought, unsure of what it is she even wants to say. She dares to cast him a sideways glance and sees him anxiously chewing his lip, his thumbs picking at the label on the neck of the bottle.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” he finally admits, “you’re gorgeous. But you and I are never going to happen.”

She braces herself for the impact of the inevitable pain in her chest, but it never comes. Instead, she feels lighter. The final piece of closure she needs, permission to move on from the “what if” that has haunted her teenage years and entire adult life so far. Yet she cannot help her curiosity at his response.

“Why not?” She asks, turning to look at him.

He lifts his head, meeting her eye. “I said I wouldn’t, I made a promise.”

“To who?” She asks, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Aegon! You need to help me load the dishwasher,” Helaena calls out from behind them.

Aegon sighs, moving to stand, muttering “Christ, her last slave must have died of exhaustion” to himself as he walks away, leaving wet footprints on the patio behind him.

She is frustrated that Helaena interrupted them before Aegon could answer her, her curiosity piqued almost unbearably. As Aegon approaches Helaena, she hears her chastising him in a hushed tone, Aegon’s own defensive retort is also much quieter than his usual manner of speaking. She wonders what they’re arguing about, but quickly dismisses it. There has been enough conflict for one day.

Her thoughts drift back to Aemond and the kiss they had shared. She can still feel his lips lingering against hers if she focuses hard enough upon it. It had felt nice, she had kissed the man who hated her and actually enjoyed it. Then straight afterwards he had reminded her why she usually works so hard to avoid him. It was a fluke, not worth making a big deal of. She certainly wouldn’t be telling Helaena about it.

The following afternoon, her and Helaena laze around on beach towels that are laid upon the perfectly manicured lawn of the back garden, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun upon their skin.

As Aegon had predicted, Cassandra had shown back up at the house that morning, and their enthusiastic reconciliation had been what had prompted her and Helaena’s decision to relocate to the garden. Aemond hasn’t bothered to come back downstairs since insulting her the previous evening.

Helaena lays on her front, legs bent at the knee and ankles crossed. She plucks a foil packet from beneath her towel and tears it open, pulling out a blue and green gummy worm. She dangles it towards her, the hint of a smile upon her lips.

“Want to go halves?” She asks.

“On a sweet?!”

“An edible!”

“Oh Christ…no!”

“Suit yourself,” Helaena says with an easy shrug, stretching the worm between her teeth as she bites off the end.

“Think I need to keep a clear head, especially after last night.”

“Mmm,” Helaena concurs, chewing and swallowing her mouthful of gummy. “I saw you talking to Aegon. Please tell me you aren’t still pining after him?”

“No, actually,” she says honestly, “I think last night was the closure I finally needed.”

“Good,” Helaena says, eyeing her carefully. “So what’s really bothering you?”

She sighs, knowing there’s no point denying it. Helaena is too intuitive for that.

“I…um…Aemond and I…we kissed…”

Nervously, she looks over at her friend, awaiting her angry reaction. However, instead of the scowl she’d expected, Helaena is smiling.

“And…?” She asks excitedly.

Why is she not more surprised by this? Shouldn’t she be annoyed?

“And nothing. I insulted him, he kissed me out of anger, then he insulted me when I wouldn’t sleep with him. He’s been sulking in his room ever since.”

“Go and make him apologise,” Helaena urges her.

“Why should I? He owes me an apology, he should come to me.”

“That’s not Aemond’s style. You’re both as stubborn as each other. Just go up to his room!”

“Why are you so eager for me to make up with him?”

“Because…” Helaena trails off, and for a moment she thinks she’s lost her train of thought, until she holds up the rest of the gummy worm with a smile. “Because I want to finish this and you’re harshing my buzz!”

Charming.

She has a point though, she supposes. She has made amends with one brother this week, it wouldn’t hurt to repair things with the other too.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” she says with a sigh, standing up and brushing herself off.

As she ascends the stairs towards the upper level of the house, it’s quiet, save for the soft sounds of music and Cassandra’s giggles coming through Aegon’s closed bedroom door. She pauses as she reaches Aemond’s room, her heart hammering in her chest, and nausea swirling in her gut as she stands outside, desperately trying to steel herself to knock.

What would she say? Would he even want to speak to her?

She takes a deep breath, attempting to push through the anxiety and knocks softly. She hears shuffling from the other side, before the door pulls slowly open. Aemond’s long silver hair is loose, and he’s dressed in a plain black t-shirt and black jogging bottoms. He looks effortlessly flawless, despite how casually he’s dressed.

Has he always looked this good? How had she never noticed before?

He bows his head slightly when he sees it’s her, a flicker of sadness briefly visible in his eye before he casts his gaze downward.

“Can I come in?” She asks softly.

He nods, stepping back to allow her in, closing the door behind her.

She’s never been in Aemond’s room before. It’s flooded by natural light from the large bay windows, and everything is immaculately neat and tidy, from the orderly shelves of books, to how taut his bedsheets are pulled against the mattress. Everything has its place.

“I owe you an apology,” she begins, turning to face him.

His eyebrows raise, eye widening in surprise. “Me?”

She nods. “I should never have pried into your personal life, what happened between you and Alys is your business and I had no right to ask about it or pass comment on it. I’d really like it if we could just forget what happened yesterday and start again.”

“What if I don’t want to forget about it?” He asks, stepping closer.

Her heart sinks, disappointment making her shoulders sag. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head, looming over her, his breath ghosting against her skin as he speaks. “There’s a particular moment that I’m very keen to remember.”

Her skin grows warm, her breath hitching as he reaches up, his fingertips ghosting against the side of her neck. “Or are you still chasing after my brother like a pathetic little bitch?”

This time his words don’t offend, instead they send a shiver up her spine, her mouth going dry as his eye bores into hers.

“N–no,” she stammers, her pulse racing as his hand rests against her neck, his stare dark and intense. “I don’t like him like that anymore. I think I’d known that for a while, but him telling me it was never going to happen helped me to realise that.”

“Mmmm,” Aemond hums softly, leaning in, “I’m glad that Aegon is a man of his word.”

His lips ghost against hers, but she freezes as his words echo in her mind alongside his brother’s.

I’m glad that Aegon is a man of his word.

I said I wouldn’t, I made a promise.

She pulls back sharply, brow furrowed as she stares at Aemond suspiciously. “Was it you that Aegon made a promise to, to never try anything with me?”

Aemond nods, reaching for her again, sighing as she steps away. “It was years ago. I made him promise me he’d leave you alone, because well…I like you, and he’s not good enough for you.”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her voice a tight sounding whisper as she struggles to keep her emotions in check. “You had no right to do that…”

“I was protecting you,” he says softly, “he wouldn’t have been good to you.”

“And you would have?!” She responds, voice wavering around the rapidly forming lump in her throat. “You’ve spent years ignoring me, only interacting to be hateful. How the fuck is that protecting me?!”

“You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand!” She cries, her chest tightening as hot tears roll down her cheeks. “If you liked me you should’ve said something, what you’ve done instead is manipulative and cruel.”

She pushes past Aemond, slamming his bedroom door behind him, before heading to Helaena’s room where she’s been staying since she arrived. Curling up on her side of the bed, her shoulders shake as she sobs quietly into the pillow, a hot swirl of anger, sadness and betrayal coursing through her body.

How dare he? How fucking dare he? What might’ve been if she’d just been given a chance with Aegon? What might’ve been if Aemond had voiced his feelings for her sooner? He had robbed her of the opportunity to find out any of it.

When the door eventually creaks open, she is unsure of how many hours she has been laying there. She has cried herself out, a hollow feeling having settled in her chest, numbness replacing the hurt and anger she’d felt previously.

“Hey,” Helaena says softly, the mattress dipping slightly as she sits upon the edge of it. “Brought you a sandwich, cheese and Marmite.”

“What time is it?” She asks groggily, pulling herself into a sitting position, as she gratefully accepts the plate from her.

“Just gone six. Figured there’s no point in us all doing dinner together tonight…”

“Sorry,” she whispers sadly, “I’ve fucked this whole week up.”

“You haven’t,” Helaena says earnestly, “none of this is your fault. Aemond has just chosen the worst possible way to tell you he has feelings for you.”

“You know?!” She asks, the warmth of embarrassment heating the apples of her cheeks.

“Please don’t be upset. Aemond’s always had a thing for you, I’ve always known. For what it’s worth, I think you guys would be great together.”

“Great together?! No offense, Hel, but your brother’s a tool.”

“He can be, yeah. But you’re more alike than you think. You just need to see beneath the tough guy exterior.”

She shakes her head. “Until this week he’s either ignored me or been awful to me.”

“Aemond isn’t the best at expressing how he feels, but he’s trying. I’ve gotten tired of watching him pine for you for so long, and make himself miserable never doing anything about it. I told him that if he didn’t say anything this week then I’d tell you myself.”

Her eyes widen, the confession taking her breath away. “Hel…”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be meddling, and I know Aemond shouldn’t have interfered with Aegon. But honestly, you can do so much better.”

“And you think Aemond is better?”

“He could be, if you gave him the chance.”

“All we do is argue.”

“Because you’re so alike! You just need to listen to each other.”

She chews her lip, mulling over Helaena’s words. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. But not tonight. Tonight my only interests are this sandwich and whatever crap we can find on Netflix.”

“Sounds good to me,” Helaena replies happily.

They spend the rest of the evening curled up in Helaena’s bed, watching a nature documentary that they eventually fall asleep in front of.

It’s early when she awakens. She can’t see the time, but can tell from the pastel hue of the lightened sky visible through the window, where she and Helaena had fallen asleep without closing the curtains, that sunrise wasn’t long ago.

Eager to stretch her limbs, having been cooped up in the same room for more than twelve hours, she disentangles herself from her still sleeping friend, and pads downstairs. 

The aroma of brewing coffee lures her towards the kitchen, but she stops in her tracks when she spots Aemond, his back to her as he stands in front of the coffee maker. For a moment she considers just going back upstairs, until he turns and sees her.

Wordlessly, they stare at each other, time feeling as though it stretches on for an eternity, before finally he speaks.

“Coffee?”

“Um…sure.”

He nods, turning to grab the espresso cup from the drip tray before sliding it across the kitchen island to her. “Take this one.”

She utters a quiet thanks, perching on a bar stool as she wraps her hands around the warmth of the small ceramic vessel. The only sounds in the kitchen are that of Aemond preparing another coffee for himself. She’s grateful they both have something other than each other to focus on, as truthfully she doesn’t know what to say.

“Valar morghulis was how they said it in Valyria of old. All men must die. And the Doom came and proved it true,” he recites as he turns back to her, placing his own coffee upon the counter.

“What?” Her brows pull together in confusion as she looks up at him from her cup.

“You wrote that in the history essay that you shared with me back when we were at school. That particular line has always stuck with me. I thought it was inspired.”

Her heart feels as though it skips a beat, realising he has remembered such a small detail, but it is contradictory to the reality of his reaction to it. “You said it was derivative.”

“That was unkind. I regret it,” he tells her sincerely. “Truthfully, it was brilliant. I’ve never read anything like it.”

“Why were you so rude about it then?”

“An attempt to push you away, I suppose.”

“Why?”

He sighs, taking a long sip of his coffee, looking pensive as he casts his eye away from her, choosing his words carefully. “You’re too good for Aegon, he has spent his entire life failing upwards, being given things he hasn’t earned, taking what I work hard for. I couldn’t let him take you too. But you’re also too good for me. I already thought you were perfect, and was trying so hard to keep you at arm’s length. I think I fell harder for you after reading your essay, and that scared me. You deserve better than me, but I can’t seem to let you go. I lost interest in Floris because she wasn’t as intelligent as you are, and Alys ended things with me because she could tell how hung up on you I am.”

She groans exasperatedly. “Am I seriously the last person to know that you have feelings for me?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve spent a long time hiding it, but now my cards are fully on the table. I’m being as honest as I can be. I didn’t intend for you to ever find out. I wanted to get over you. I didn’t think that you’d be interested.”

“Did it never occur to you to ask?”

“I’m asking now.”

“I…I’ve never thought about you that way, to be honest, not until you kissed me…”

“...and then?”

“I think I could…”

“So is that a yes?”

“You’ve not actually asked me anything…”

He rolls his eye. “I’m pouring my heart out here. Meet me halfway.”

She huffs a soft laugh. “I think we should take things slowly. Let me get to know the Aemond that’s not a massive arsehole. Can you handle that?”

“I can handle that.”

The air feels lighter somehow as they both sip their coffee, a peacefulness having settled over the two of them, rooted in mutual hope and excitement.

Over the next couple of days, her and Aemond spend more time together. He makes more of a conscious effort to include himself when she and Helaena hang out in communal spaces. They stay up all night talking, and when they’re alone together he intertwines his fingers with hers, asking her to read to him as he rests his head in her lap. They never go further than a few soft kisses, but she finds herself falling asleep cuddled up to him each night, instead of in Helaena’s bed.

It’s disconcerting to peer behind the iron facade of Aemond Targaryen, this softer, kinder, gentle hearted side is one she’s never seen before. Yet the more she gets to know it, the more she grows to like it. It’s something deeper, more intimate than anything she had ever felt for Aegon, and she realises this is because it surpasses mere infatuation, and her feelings are reciprocated.

It’s Saturday evening, and Aegon’s party is close to becoming out of control. The heavy bass of the music reverberates throughout the house, and Royce has provided more kegs than everyone in attendance combined could ever be able to drink in a single night. Every downstairs room, as well as the garden, bustles with people – most of whom she doesn’t know.

Despite this, she is having fun. Her, Helaena and Aemond have kept within their own little bubble, talking and laughing as they pass wine between them, slugging it directly from the bottle. The more she and Aemond drink, the closer they shift towards one another on the sofa, until eventually one of her legs ends up slung over the top of his.

Her mind feels fuzzy from the effects of the alcohol, spreading a warmth throughout her body. She feels happy, she can’t remember the last time she felt this content.

As the evening presses on, Aegon stumbles over to them, a few of his friends trailing after him. She can tell from his glassy eyed expression that he’s drunk. He sways slightly on his feet as he stands in front of them all, taking in the sight of her and Aemond sitting close together.

“There they are!” He slurs. “The happy couple!”

“Has your little brother got himself a girlfriend, Aegon?” His friend pipes up from behind him.

“My cast off, actually,” he says, gesturing towards her with his glass, slopping beer onto the living room floor as he does so.

“Watch yourself,” Aemond says darkly. She feels him tense beneath her, rapidly growing angry.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me, Aemond?” He asks, cocking his head. “I let you have her! So, come on, the least you can do is let us know what she’s like in the sack!”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Aemond hisses through gritted teeth.

“Stop it, both of you,” Helaena says pleadingly.

She grasps Aemond’s hand, a vain attempt to calm him, as Aegon laughs hysterically with his friends.

“You’ve not fucked her yet, have you?! Will she not put out? Still holding out hope for me?!”

She squeaks in surprise as Aemond stands abruptly, towering over Aegon as he squares up to him. “I said, shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth.”

“Why?” Aegon asks with a careless shrug. “Truth hurt, does it? Because let’s face it, she couldn’t be with me, so she settled for you. Second best.”

With an angry snarl, Aemond shoves Aegon, sending him toppling backwards into his friends, stunning the room into silence as he storms from it.

Her blood runs cold, her heart drumming wildly against her ribcage as she exchanges a horrified glance with Helaena, before hurrying after Aemond, who is already retreating up the stairs two at a time.

He is pacing his room, his breathing ragged as she follows him in, shutting the door and muffling the sound of the party below them.

“Ignore your twat of a brother,” she says soothingly, “he’s drunk, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

Aemond shakes his head, and the look of hurt she sees reflected in his eye as he looks at her makes her heart squeeze painfully. “He’s right. You’re only with me because you couldn’t have Aegon.”

“He’s wrong.” She steps towards him, taking his hands in hers, “I couldn’t be happier with the way things have turned out. What I feel for you…it’s real. You’ve made me happier in two days than Aegon ever has in ten years.”

“Do you really mean that?” He whispers.

He looks so vulnerable, so sad as he looks down at her that it makes her want to cry.

“Every word,” she utters, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss him softly, her fingers caressing his cheek. “You’re so good, Aemond, so good to me.”

He rests his forehead against hers, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulls her close, his eye fluttering closed. “I want to believe that.”

“I’ll make you,” she whispers, tugging him by the front of his shirt as she steps back towards the bed.

They topple onto the bedspread, laying on their sides, facing each other. Her grip on his shirt tightens as she kisses him again, deeper this time, her tongue lapping delicately against his, taking her time with it, allowing him to feel every movement of her lips against his.

When she pulls away, she trails her lips over the sharpness of his jaw and down the column of his throat, her fingers working deftly to open his buttons as she does so, caressing every inch of his bare torso as it’s revealed to her.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers against his neck, feeling him shiver against her, his rapidly growing hardness pressing against her thigh through his jeans.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, as her hands move to his belt buckle, pulling it open.

“I want you,” she whispers, “more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

He groans, fingers digging into the flesh of her hip, screwing his eye shut as she moves her hand beneath the waistband of his underwear.

Her core throbs with arousal as she strokes the velvety soft flesh of his hardened cock, eagerly wrapping her fingers around it, pumping softly, earning a sharp hiss of pleasure from him.

She pushes his underwear down far enough to free his erection, before hooking a leg over his hip and tugging the thong beneath her dress to one side.

“Feel what you do to me,” she says huskily, dragging the head of him through the stickiness that has gathered between her thighs.

Aemond inhales sharply, hips jerking at the sensation, and she smiles at the effect she’s having on him, his breaths coming fast and shallow.

“I want you inside me,” she coos, “will you let me?”

He swallows thickly, pupil dilated with desire as he nods enthusiastically. “Fuck…yes…”

She positions him at her entrance, angling her hips to encourage him to press forward. All of the air feels as though it is forced from her lungs as he pushes into her, the stretch of her body around him is exquisite torture.

“Mmmm…so big,” she murmurs, stroking his hair, feeling him smile in response against the skin of her shoulder. She can tell from the way he’s tensing that he’s holding his breath, every part of him sinking inside of her as intense for him as it is for her.

Once he is fully sheathed inside, she winds her arms around his neck. His grip on her hip is iron clad as he uses his other hand to pull down the straps of her dress and her bra, pressing his face into her breasts as they slowly begin to rock their hips together.

Their pace is unhurried, less about the act itself and more about providing closeness and comfort to each other, and she knows that Aemond is in desperate need of both right now.

His thrusts are shallow as she rolls her hips in time with his, her fingers stroking softly through the silken strands of his hair as he nuzzles into her chest, sighing softly against her flesh with every praise and word of affirmation that she utters softly to him.

She doesn’t care if he brings her to release, she wants tonight to be about Aemond, to make him feel special. When he eventually comes undone, spilling himself inside of her as he pulsates and trembles, her heart flutters as he stares at her, eye filled with nothing but adoration.

Summer has always been her favourite time of year, and thanks to Aemond she’s certain it always will be.