#of course that could be wrong too but still

[trashytracktales]

Hiii, I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, haven’t had sex yet. One day they’re working out together at Lando’s house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando can’t help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him what’s wrong and before he answers she realises he’s horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor

In the heat of it | LN⁴

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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something 🥵

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none of my works are available for reposting on other platforms.

© trashy track tales, 2024

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𐙚 summary ──── They've been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior. MDNI!

𐙚 word count ──── 3.6k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 12, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Enjoy watching Lando learn that some cardio sessions have unexpected side effects 🤍🎀

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IT DOESN’T TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.

The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco's streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it's the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.

The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.

They are already halfway through their warm-up. She’s pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises he’s walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn't match the exercise.

Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive — curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. He’s all energy, fluid in his movements, though he's clearly trying to keep his pace casual.

“Lookin’ strong,” he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.

The girl shrugs, “I’m just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.”

Lando lets a chuckle out, “I won't go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But it’s cute to see you trying.”

Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando's imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.

He’s now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. She’s supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she can’t resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.

“Hi there,” says the girl in a soft tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.

Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. “Don’t,” he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.

He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. “Outrageous is what you are.”

She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.

Luckily, he doesn’t pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower — much real — making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.

“And you are so fun to corrupt,” she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.

After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn't even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn't have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it's been there ever since. Forgotten.

Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.

Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.

Unaware of the effect she's having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intense warmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent — he's just respectfully looking — until it isn't. Until he feels it in his boxers. Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.

Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it's natural and that he's just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.

“Are you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?” she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Lando’s face.

Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, “Yeah, never better.”

It's his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what's going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.

“Am I too dictracting, Lando?” she purrs, her question — and the fact that he knows she caught him in act — not helping at all.

“No,” he lies, “But I think you’re killing it with those squats.”

“And if I turn around to finish my set, what then?” she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.

His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. “Then you would be killing me,” he admits with no restraints. “So, by any means, proceed. Please.”

She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he's in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. It’s still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what she’s actually doing to him.

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck, and rising to her cheeks. Her heart is slowly starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.

Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.

“How can I help you?” asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it's not that hard to read.

She chuckles nervously, “The question is how can I help you?”

In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there's nothing stopping them anymore.

In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison — a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.

He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, “That enough of an answer?”

“Positive,” she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.

“Fucking hell,” his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.

“Yeah…” she agrees, breathing hotly above him, “Did I do this to you?”

Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety — deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.

It makes her ache for him.

She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing softly over his swollen tip.

The workout itself had left Lando’s muscles burning, but her touch it’s something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything he’s felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.

Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.

That's his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he's hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.

“Hi there,” Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.

She wants to talk back so badly — one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves — but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.

“Driving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,” he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, “And your pretty fucking nipples.”

“Lando…” she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.

The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes — it’s all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin — who says heaven isn't real?

But if that's heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good — much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.

Lando starts slowly at first, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. It’s not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.

“Lan��� yes,” she starts panting, “That’s—yes, right there.”

He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she's so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.

If that's even possible.

The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.

She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.

Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like he’s witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that she’s here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn't started drooling all over her in the meantime. “All of you.”

“Your turn,” she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.

He agrees that it's a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting — because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is — Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.

Matching the same pace, Lando’s hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window — or that's what she thought. Confused at first, she's frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants — a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.

She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how he’s finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal — so intimate and vulnerable in a way that’s completely new for both of them.

Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You're so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,” adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around his head.

To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as she’s about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“Lan…” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, “You… feel so good,” she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.

Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.

“See how silly you look for thinking we won't match?” he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, “See that? Taking all of me so well, baby.”

“Lando,” she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it's way too slow, even for him.

It's simply agonizing.

“So perfect around me,” he states, “Can't believe I lasted that long. Should've fucked you from the first night.”

At this point, he's just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, “I would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver's room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club… Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.”

His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.

“Wh—” he almost chokes on words, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“You—stressed about work. I… I didn't want to be—distraction,” she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. "Like that, mhm, yes!"

“You're so tight, fuck,” he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. “I'm so close.”

She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.

All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.

She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando's hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she's being fucked.

“Lan—Lando,” she's so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it's too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.

The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.

She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.

“We're so fucking matching, baby. Let's gooo!” exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.

She feels her cheeks warm, “I think you’re a little biased right now,” she jokes.

Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle.

“I'm just happy.”

Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.

“And very sweaty,” she adds with a chuckle.

“I'm pretty sure that's you,” he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.

“Mhm?” she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.

“Where do we go from here?” asks Lando.

“Your bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.”

thank you for reading!

reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

[thedoritodealerofthewoods]

OooHOOOHOO

Man

Copy pasting my thoughts from my ramble at the friend who showed this post to me because I'm satisfied with the way I put them. Spoiler warning for wof arc 1 below

How does this work? Does she know the prophecy is fake from the moment Morrowseer visits the cave to observe the dragonets? Maybe he wasn’t thinking about it well enough for her to realize he doesn’t believe the prophecy - “hmmm…. This one isn’t good enough. This one will work better. This one will accomplish the need very effectively-” could all be interpreted as someone who doesn’t trust in fate to do it’s own work. Maybe this annoys her, but the truth doesn’t register.

Or does she deny obvious “lol this thing isn’t real” thoughts with the certainty that he’s wrong. And maybe she hates him because of it right off the bat - though she might not tell the others exactly why beyond a potential cryptic “he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about!” To which she gets the average response of “lol alright Sunny. Anyway I want to punt him into the sky because he hates Glory” - !!! Right - iirc, Morrowseer tells the guardians to kill her, but to the side where the dod don’t hear him. (Can’t check atm cause cat on lap). Maybe Sunny gets all bolt-upright-shock at a certain point and starts frantically trying to convince everyone that Glory is in danger the second he leaves, before anything is overheard. They maybe think she’s overreacting, that of course he hates me Sunny I’m a rainwing and yeah but they wouldn’t go that far haha - but eventually the conversation is overheard and they all realize the truth and the escape kicks off (with the difference of Sunny being in on it this time - unless they maybe still think she might accidentally let something slip).

Also - the moment in the tunnel with Morrowseer fits a little too well to change at all. He opens his mouth to gloat, to tell them all the truth, and no, no, no! She’s pleading for him to stop before he speaks a word because she knows, she knows, and maybe she always has, maybe she should have seen it sooner but it’s the only hope the others have, the only reason they’re still trying and she can’t let them lose it. She can’t lose it. She can’t lose them.

Oh! Also - does she tell the rest of the dod? Probably not, I’d guess. Starflight would be crushed. As far as they all know till the last book, she’s just a weird SandWing. Not only did Starflight fail to have any powers, but she got both. Maybe she tried to tell them before it occurred to her that it might hurt him, but no one believed her. She’s just supposedly really good at picking up on stuff. Can’t hide anything from her.

Also - mindreading and foresight would only feed into the hyper-empathy. She’s so worried about everyone all the time because she can hear their pain, she knows what they’re worried about, she can hear their hopes and dreams and she can see the fates everyone tumbles through. When the dod eventually find out about her powers, I can see Tsunami probably saying something along the lines of “hey, if you can see in everyone’s heads, why did you still trust the guardians so much? Why do you still care about them? Why do you still want to help everyone when everyone is trying to KILL US!??” To which she simply responds that that is the reason.

thrice-moonborn sunny :)

[jinwoosbabyboo]

I Can't Sit Still

The lads men noticing that you’re fighting yourself to just sit still. [Requested by: luxis-journal]

Zayne

Zayne was being awarded tonight and all you needed to do was say a few hellos and sit pretty for the night. Why did your anxiety jitters have to kick in now? Those few hellos had turned into half an hour small talks with one too many people. Zayne was quite the hot topic amongst the healthcare community; it almost seemed like he was a celebrity. You being the beautiful woman on his arm it was only natural that people were curious about you as well. The night seemed to drag on as the mingling continued. Finally when everyone was seated at their respective tables for the showcase you thought this would help you relax. However the damage had already been done.

Your leg bounced furiously under the table while your fingers moved your silverware aimlessly. “Are you alright my love?” Zayne whispered in your ear pulling you back to reality. “I’m fine why?” You responded snapping your spine straight. You felt him place a hand on your thigh calming your ever bouncing leg. His palm was warm and you could feel your self relaxing into his touch. “You’ve been eerily quiet and you can’t seem to sit still” Zayne studied your face as you glanced over your shoulder at the many people in the room. “I'm not good in social settings” You sighed “It gives me anxiety as a matter of fact I think I may be sweating my deodorant off right now” You wrung your hands as your eyes continued to ping pong around the room.

Your gaze landed back on Zayne who couldn’t help, but look at you with concern ”If you’d like to leave I can have them send my award to the hospital” That was just like him willing you drop everything for you, but you couldn’t let him do that. “This is a big night for you I'll be fine Dr. Zayne” You smiled and kissed his cheek.

You were not fine.

Which is why Zayne did not stop worrying about you. The second he was called to receive his award, he gave a brief thank you speech and next thing you knew his fingers were intertwined with yours and you were quietly slipping out the room without a single goodbye or explanation.

He held the car door open as you folded yourself into the seat. You watched him circle the car and waste no time getting in and pulling out of the parking lot. “Zayne you didn’t have to do that we could have at least stayed for dinner” You tried to talk some sense into him as he glanced down and placed his hand on your thigh. “Look at that it’s no longer bouncing”

Rafayel

Attending these art exhibits with Rafayel was nothing new except tonight you two had to travel outside of the country for this one. Rafayel acted as a translator for you since he was fluent in many languages, but it did nothing to calm the rising anxiety in you. With the language barrier and the unfamiliar environment your anxiety was reaching its peak. You'd gone deathly quiet after an hour and found yourself hanging onto Rafayels arm while subtly hiding behind him.

You mindlessly thrummed your fingers on your leg and constantly fought the urge to keep adjusting your dress and rubbing your neck. You were about as slick as sandpaper though of course Rafayel noticed your fidgeting immediately.

“What's wrong?” He questioned, cupping your face. “This is a lot” You whispered, gesturing to the crowd. He scanned your face for anything else that you might be hiding. “Then let’s leave” He didn’t give you a chance to object before he was puling you by the wrist towards the nearest exit.

By the time you reached the street Rafayels’ driver was already there waiting. He promptly guided you into the car and climbed in behind you. “Raf you have got to stop disappearing during your own exhibits” You said, pushing his shoulder when he started chuckling to himself. “Those snobs aren’t worried about me as a person they’re more occupied with who can buy my work for the highest price”

“Still you didn’t have to leave just because I can’t sit still” You pouted. Rafayel leaned in close almost touching his nose to yours “You keep me sane through these if you’re uncomfortable then I’m uncomfortable”

Xavier

Xavier loved to read and eat hotpot with you and since today was chilly it was the perfect weather to stay in and do just that. The plan was to stop in Barnes & Noble, buy a few books and head back home quick and easy. Too bad you ran into a group of people you know and you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for any kind of small talk.

Xavier noticed you constantly pulling on your sleeves and wringing you hands. He could tell you were hanging on by a thread trying to be nice and keep the conversation going.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm not feeling well baby can we go home?” Xavier calmly grabbed your hand and stared deep into your eyes hoping he did the right thing. A subtle smile curved on your lips as a silent thank you for getting you out of this conversation. “My bad Xav let’s get you home” You quickly dismiss yourself from the conversation, grabbed your books and headed home. A wave of relief washed over you when you slumped against the passanger seat.

“Thank you so much I was about to start speaking nonsense if that conversation went on any longer” You kissed Xaviers cheek making him blush. “Im glad I could help” He muttered while rubbing his neck. He’s so cute when he’s flustered.

Sylus

Sylus couldn’t stand seeing those puppy dog eyes you gave him whenever he had to leave for something. Your tactic of keeping him occupied in bed wasn’t working either apparently this meeting he needed to get to couldn’t be rescheduled. So here you were sitting at the head of a long table with all eyes on you and Sylus.

Why did he have to sit you on his lap?

Many men brought different jewels and business prospects to Sylus as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. As one of the men in the room rambled on about …. whatever the fuck …. you mindlessly shook your foot and constantly adjusted on his lap only for him to move you back to your original position. Sylus leaned in to whisper in your ear after yet again readjusting you on his lap. “Sweetie I can’t have you sitting at that angle you're crushing my balls” You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. Here you thought he was just trying to whisper sweet nothings in your ear like the smooth talker he is. “You’re shaking like a puppy in the rain what's the matter, tell me”

You drop your head to stare at your hands as you whispered “I don’t like how much attention is on me” Sylus nods as he takes in your words. “Can you sit still for an hour or would you like to leave?” You knew how important this meeting was for Onychinus so you tried to suck it up and stay still.

That just made it worse.

Sylus noticed your movements becoming more frequent and jerky. “Let’s go” He said under his breath. He stood abruptly from his seat cradling you in his arms. He ordered Luke & Kieran to stand in for him as he disappeared from the room with you. “Im so sorry I can’t control it” You hid your face in his chest feeling like you ruined his entire meeting. “No worries Princess I saw all I needed to see and I wasn't impressed” He readjusted to hold you a little higher. “Besides your anxiety seems to be winning this internal battle”

Your head snapped up at his accusations “I don’t-” He cut you off with a stern look “Don’t lie”

You bury your face in his chest again “Don’t judge me” Your words were muffled. “I’m not judging you” You looked up to find him staring down at you with a tender gaze. “Let’s get you back in bed”

[stuckinmymind22]

you say "i love you" first

ft: zoro, sanji, robin, ace, and shanks

gn!reader (minus zoro, sorry), mostly fluff, mostly sfw (shanks is a little bit explicit)

a/n: i just think this is cute idk

zoro

you say it first and he kisses you instead of saying it back, that leads somewhere and he’s more tender than usual and you know that is him saying “i love you too” finally says it back after several days when you’re alone and he mumbles it, you aren’t sure that you heard him so you ask him what and he comes and whispers in your ear “i said, i love you, woman” don't expect him to say it often though, the words from him are rare, no matter how many times you tell him that you love him. instead, zoro shows his love in his actions, one time he pulled out your chair for you at dinner and didn't say anything about it (was kinda awkward with it tbh), but the rest of the crew poked fun at him. he somehow always knows when there is something wrong with you, and although not the most emotionally aware he will listen to any of your problems as you talk through your emotions

sanji

he has definitely said it way too early in the relationship, said it a bunch then as you got serious he slowly stopped saying it bc now the words meant more/had more weight and he didn't want to scare you off when you do say it, immediate nose bleed, nearly cries, says it back right away. now that you said it this man is going to make declarations of love at least once a day, somehow he never repeats himself. would probably scream it from the mountain tops if he could tbfh

robin

she’s really confused, not that she doesn’t love you back but more in the “how could anyone love me” type of way. she remains speechless for far longer than you would like, when she does speak again it's to tell you that she isn't quite ready to say it back. naturally, you're devastated by this and you start to distance yourself a bit. that ends up being what she needed to admit her feelings. she probably tries her best to make some romantic gesture maybe just flowers or maybe she gets sanji (ever the simp) to make your favorite dinner. she's the type to be real quiet about her love, not to say that her love for you is unnoticed by outsiders, but she is not going out of her way to make it known like sanji

ace

you guys say it at the exact same time both of you are like awesome. he says it at the most random times, sometimes walking up to you while you are in a conversation to whisper "i love you" in your ear. he adores the way that those words always bring a massive smile to your face he's still a little insecure about himself, but each time you tell him you love him he starts to get more and more confident. he starts to become attached to your side (gets made fun of for it but he doesn't care), not that he wasn't before, but this was more

shanks

takes a while for feelings to develop beyond sexual (you both went in thinking it was just a hookup and that it was all it would ever be) it starts to become clearer that you both are in too deep. neither of you want to ruin what you have so you stay silent about it for far too long once, after you had sex, you bring yourself to admit it, completely out of breath. he’s lowkey stunned, doesn’t really know what to say, says “thank you doll” of course you get mad and he’s like “what i just said thank you, you know i love you too” and you’re like "i mean i figured but it would’ve been nice to hear 🙄" never being bothered by pda, he starts to become more brazen in his displays of affection, sometimes catching you as you walk by to pull you into his lap, regardless of who is around

[sl-ut]

for better or for worse

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!hightower!reader

description: the dance is over, the blacks have won. rhaenyra has taken control of the red keep, making quick work of executing those who have wronged her, save for alicent, who would be locked in a tower for the rest of her days, and gwayne’s daughter, who she has special plans for.

warnings: SMUT, canon-divergent (blacks win au, rhaenyra does not take kings landing until she wins), slight dark!rhaenyra but just glimpses, slight dubcon in beginning but after that it’s 100% consensual, mentions of death, several mentions of b&c, doesn’t follow plot to a t but def contains spoilers, violence, and all other got/hotd triggers just to be safe

words: 8K

date posted: 13/11/24

King’s Landing had been nothing but chaos since she had arrived so long ago, accompanied by her cousin Daeron who had been called into the fight for the throne. Her father, while off fighting this senseless war alongside the Hand of the King, had requested that his only daughter be brought to stay in King’s Landing as a means of protection. That was, of course, long before Aemond and Vhagar were killed in battle and Rhaenyra descended upon King’s Landing on Syrax, flanked by five other fully-grown dragons and their riders. If she had thought things had been chaotic amidst the war, there were simply no words to describe the capitol in the days to come.

She had been with her aunt when the Blacks landed, spending most of her days with the Dowager Queen in the wake of her own daughter’s death. She did not mind, knowing herself to be Alicent’s greatest comfort in that period, as well as the fact that she had also gone without the gentle touch of a mother since she was a child. Jaehaera often joined them, blissfully unaware to the fact that her mother had died months earlier, These prayer and tea times that they spent together were sacred to each of them, until, of course, they turned their gaze to the window, where Syrax’s golden scales glittered in the sunlight as she landed in the courtyard with grace.

Aegon had been in no position to defend his crown. He was dragonless and crippled, both at the hand of his younger brother, and Daeron was still leagues away from the capitol with his own dragon Tessarion. As Rhaenyra’s mount snarled and snapped at the white cloaks around her, they were quick to surrender as they took in the sight of the five other dragons circling in the clouds above; there was no way out. 

Those loyal to Rhaenyra were quick to storm the castle, keeping everyone inside until she could discover exactly who her enemies were and who were simply complicit. She had swiftly had Aegon executed, as well as Otto Hightower and the rest of the Small Council, save for Alicent. She’d been far too close with the Dowager Queen to have her publicly humiliated and put to death, and considering that she had admitted to making such a grave mistake in regards to the succession, she instead had her locked in a tower until further notice. Her only request was that she would be joined by her niece and granddaughter until Rhaenyra made other arrangements for them, which Rhaenyra was merciful enough to oblige. She was not a tyrant, and felt no desire to punish the innocent for the crimes of men. 

Nine days they were locked in the tower with no word from Rhaenyra. The white cloaks guarding their door were curt when asked, and only opened the door for their meals and the bare necessities to be delivered to them. It was a tight space, one that was likely intended to be a luxurious cell for one, though luckily Jaehaera took up little to no space at all as she was usually physically attached to either her cousin or grandmother. Both women made an effort to keep the young princess comfortable and entertained in some way, whether it be by telling her stories, singing with her, creating makeshift games for them to play together…they both understood that she was just about that age where everything could suddenly begin making sense, and they wanted to delay her realisation of the situation as much as possible. They spent their nights huddled together for warmth, being so high up in the castle as winter came upon the realm made for some very cold nights, and they were all eager when a handmaiden arrived in the morning with a jug of warm water for them to clean up with. 

Finally, on the tenth day, Alicent had decided she had had enough. She had woken the two younger females up with her banging and yelling at the door, demanding to see the queen. Jaehaera clung to her cousin in fright while Y/n watched in anticipation as the door swung open, one of the guards stepping forward to confront the Hightower woman. 

“It’s been ten days,” she hissed, straightening her back in an attempt to reclaim any authority that she may have left, “I demand to see the queen. Not for myself, but for the sake of my niece and granddaughter, who are being punished for crimes they are wholly innocent of.”

The white cloak rolled his eyes, “You demand? Just as you have for the last ten days? The queen is busy, she has a realm to recover from the war you caused. Now, be quiet, your concerns will be brought to the queen and, no doubt, be dismissed, just as all of your others have.”

The door rattled with the force that he closed it with, leaving Alicent to slouch and huff in disbelief. How had her life turned out this way? How had she fallen so far from her position as queen to become nothing more than a prisoner and a nuisance to her guards? Her shoulders began to tremble as a sob tore its way from her throat, though no tears escaped her watery eyes. This was not sadness or anger that she was feeling, nor was it grief for the loss of each of her children, having received word of Daeron’s death in battle only days earlier. No, this was complete and utter defeat; everything she had ever worked towards gone and abandoned beneath the rubble of utter destruction. Her family and legacy, destroyed because of a simple misunderstanding on her part, because the lords of the realm would see the world in flames before a queen sat the Iron Throne. 

Alicent sank into the embrace of her niece and granddaughter as they gathered around her. She stroked each of their hair, absorbing the last ounces of love that she would be offered in this world. 

“Don’t cry,” she whispered, her thumb caressing Jaehaera’s soft cheek and wiping away the tear that slid down her flesh. In that instant, she was transported back, staring down at her sweet Helaena; what she wouldn’t give to have only a few moments more with her, to have been able to be there and wipe away her tears and stop her from throwing herself to her own demise. “Everything is alright, my little dragon. And you, my sweet niece, you are both going to be alright.”

A few hours later, the three were stirred awake as their guards banged on the door, announcing their oncoming entrance. Alicent bounced to her feet, placing herself between the door and the two younger girls. 

The knight stepped inside the room, his face as stern as ever, “Queen Rhaenyra has decided to be merciful, and meet your demands. Come at once, or not at all.”

The Dowager Queen was quick to motion the other two to follow, taking each of them by the hand as she rushed after the knight. She would not waste the one opportunity to help what was left of her kin as much as she could, even if it meant that she would face a long and desolate future all on her own. 

They finally reached the throne room, and of course Rhaenyra would only agree to meet the remaining members of her enemy’s family in front of the entire court. Y/n noticed immediately how empty the room appeared, numbers dwindling quickly within the Red Keep and leaving only those who bent the knee behind. Some were blindly faithful to the Hightowers, even to their graves, which brought the girl some comfort, but very little considering that it meant that she too would need to abandon every value she’d been taught since she was able to walk. 

The remaining courtiers leered at them, no doubt having the most offensive swears and curses on their tongues, only holding back out of fear of the new queen. Regardless of the fact that they had bent the knee, more than half of these lords were undoubtedly hating the fact that a woman had ascended the throne and only surrendered out of fear. Y/n hoped that Rhaenyra might have some mercy for Jaehaera at least, if not for herself. Of course, she mourned the deaths of her father, grandfather, and cousins; she had once accepted a betrothal to Jason Lannister’s eldest son on behalf of her family’s cause, so there was some evidence against her own odds. The young child, however, could not be blamed for the work of her father by anyone with half a mind, though she has heard that Rhaenyra has grown mad since the death of her son Lucerys, so half a mind may have been too much to ask for. 

Rhaenyra herself looked nothing short of regal as she sat upon the Iron Throne, the crown placed neatly upon her tight nest of braids previously belonging to her father, and her great grandfather before him. Her violet stare was piercing as they grew closer, but her eyes were trained entirely on Alicent as she tucked her niece and granddaughter behind her, jaw shifting back and forth, signalling that she had been grinding her teeth in anticipation. 

Beside her stood her two remaining children, Aegon and Viserys, both seeming far too young to truly understand what sort of position they were currently in, how much power they wielded over the rest of the souls in this room. They were both toddlers when the war began, and Aegon did not appear to be any older than six or seven.

One of her queensguard stepped forward, his booming voice echoing around the partially empty chamber, “You stand before Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. You come before her as traitors for conspiring with the pretender and usurper Aegon the Weak. How do you answer these claims?”

Alicent let out a shuddered breath, “Yo-your Grace. I–we come before you to humbly ask–”

Rhaenyra let out a pitiful laugh, one that held nothing but malice behind it, “Humbly? You come before me humbly?”

The court let out a unanimous, nervous chuckle, all anticipating the queen’s next words.

Alicent’s face drained of colour, “You-your Grace?”

“Your niece and granddaughter who you hide away from me, they may come to me to ask for mercy, humbly, as you say. They are innocent in all of this, only the pawns of a greater game.” The queen grinned, “A game that all began with you.”

Alicent scoffed, quickly wiping the single tear that fell down her cheek, “Your Grace, last time we spoke face-to-face, we seemed on the same page. Forgive me for my confusion at your animosity.”

“Animosity?” Rhaenyra leaned forward, fingers gripping the arms of her throne in rage, “When we last spoke face-to-face, you swore to me that your usurper of a son had agreed to abdicate, that he was too crippled to even sit his own throne. Then, I come to learn that none of this was true, and that he had instead taken advantage of my lack of preparedness and had instead invaded the territory of my own allies. So explain to me exactly how my anger at your lies and betrayal to be displaced animosity.”

“Rhaenyr–”

“You will address the queen with respect to her title, traitor.” The same member of the queensguard spoke with an edge to his voice.

Alicent sighed, “Your Grace, I come to you, humbly, as a woman of the Faith, as you well know.”

“Faithful enough to take a lover before my father’s corpse was even cold,” She laughed, eyes looking out at the members of her court, who all seemed in shock at the admittance, “The words came from your own lips when we last spoke face-to-face, do not deny it to me now.”

Y/n frowned, tears pooling along her waterline as she tucked Jaehaera into her side. As if to protect her from these slanderous words, although she did not doubt any truth behind them. Her aunt had always been a faithful woman, so chaste it was almost impossible to believe, so it did not surprise her to find the woman who had once been her closest confidant airing out her darkest truths before the court. She did not blame her, despite the fact that she had drilled into her head the importance of virtue and chastity as a woman, but in truth, her aunt was the strongest woman she had ever known; she was forced into a marriage with a man who was more than double her age, taking on the role of queen at sixteen and consequently losing her best friend; she was the mother of four mentally unwell children, one unable to keep his wits about him, one who was tragically more in tune with the world than anyone gave her credit for, one who was maniacally vengeful, and another who grew up away from her protection. Perhaps Daeron had been the luckiest of them, considering how his siblings had fared, but Y/n knew that he had experienced his own ailments that had been kept well concealed on behalf of her great-uncle, the Lord of Oldtown, and she also knew exactly how the lack of a maternal figure affected a child.

Her father had done his best, but often admitted that he wished his sister had been there to help him guide her to womanhood. The septas could only do so much, though they taught her more self hatred than anything. Her great-aunt was a stern woman, and had no patience for her questions or girlish dreams, and pushed her away as much as humanly possible. 

“Your Grace,” her voice carried through the hall before she could even think, all eyes turning to the meek figure hiding behind her aunt and standing before the queen as a traitor. Rhaenyra herself seemed surprised to hear from her, violet eyes staring down at her curiously, “Forgive us. Forgive us for our crimes against your reign. My lady aunt speaks the truth when she tells you that we come to you humbly, three women guilty of nothing but being under the control of the wrong men. You, yourself, have experienced this cruelty, as has every other lady in this room.”

The queen seemed taken by her words, sitting back against her throne thoughtfully, “You mean to appeal to my mercy based on our shared experiences? On our mutual sex? Do you truly consider the three of you completely innocent of any crimes?”

“Innocent?” Y/n asked, “I–”

“Step forward,” the queen commanded, “You muster enough courage to speak before me. Speak to me plainly and speak to me truthfully.” 

Y/n’s gaze fluttered to the ground, then to her aunt, whose eyes were wide and glossy with fear. She shook her head, pleading with her not to speak any further. She inhaled deeply, sliding her palm over the crown of sweet Jaehaera’s head before she finally stepped around her aunt and stood directly before the queen.

“We do not have all day,” the queen smirked.

She clenched her jaw, growing angry with how much the woman seemed to be enjoying their humiliation, “My aunt admitted to her mistake, and yes, she is partially responsible for this war and her lapse in judgement is one that cannot be so easily forgiven or forgotten.”

“There we agree.”

Y/n swallowed harshly, “But you must not forget, that the plan to…usurp your throne existed from the moment that Aegon was born. You better than anyone must know that. While your father lived, you were protected, but he was the only man in this world who has ever wanted you to succeed.”

Rhaenyra gulped, “You speak as if you know me. As if you know my life, or the people in it.”

“I do not mean to offend Your Grace, I only wish you to understand,” a stray tear trickled down her face. “I accepted a betrothal made for me on behalf of my grandsire, a man who you executed for his crimes. I have never met the man I was meant to marry, nor was I ever going to prior to our marriage. I was nothing short of a game piece. My sweet cousin, Jaehaera, barely old enough to understand the fate of her own mother, or her brother before her,” Rhaenyra’s face paled at the mere mention of little Jaehaerys, “I have no doubt that my grandsire had similar plans for her in the coming years. As for my aunt, she has made mistakes, yes, many of which she will never be able to repent for, but she was victim of only the same treatment as I, only she was given to a gentle man rather than one who is known for nothing but his ability to hunt, as I was. If you cannot find the forgiveness to spare myself or my aunt, I beseech you to take your niece into your care, for she is the only one of us completely innocent.”

Rhaenyra averted her gaze, silent for a moment before she finally waved her hand dismissively, “I’ve heard enough. Take them away.”

Y/n kept her eyes steady on the queen as the guards dragged her away. She wanted nothing more than to climb those stairs and weep directly at her feet, to beg for mercy, whether it be through a quick death or a pardon, but instead she held her stare firmly, forcing the queen to stare into her eyes as long as she could before the guards dragged her into the corridor, and back up to the tower.

A day passed before they heard anything more about or from the queen. Servants came and went with their meals and the guards ignored Alicent’s insistent yelling, until the door finally opened and a white cloak stepped inside the small room. 

“The queen has summoned you.”

Alicent stood from the small writing desk near the window, wringing her fingers as she took a nervous step forward. 

“Not you,” his voice stopped her, his gloved finger extending to point at the younger woman who cradled the child on the bed, “Her.”

“Her?” Alicent barked, “No, she is innocent. What could the queen possibly have to speak to her about?”

“That isn’t any of your concern, traitor,” he scowled at her, “She can come with me peacefully, or we can do this the hard way. I have no preference.”

Y/n shared a glance with her aunt, slowly moving to slide Jaehaera out of her lap. The child clung to her, small hands grabbing her tightly as she wept in resistance. 

“Jaehaera, please,” her voice cracked at this rare burst of emotions from her cousin. The girl had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and she didn’t even truly know it. “It will be alright. I will return.”

Alicent peeled the child away from her, cradling the child as she screamed while her niece was grabbed by the arm and roughly led out into the hallway. 

Y/n was shocked when the guards led her away from the throne room and up into the palace where the royal bedchambers were kept. 

“Where are we going?” She asked the guard. 

He ignored her, finally stopping before the largest door in the corridor, a room she had once known as Aegon’s chambers, but were now Rhaenyra’s. A shiver worked its way up her spine as the guard knocked, roughly forcing her through the door when the queen called out for them to enter. 

The queen sat in a large chair before the roaring fireplace, far too close to such heat for anyone but the blood of the dragon. Her eyes were pulled to the door, a small curve appearing on her lips at the sight of the woman in front of her. 

“My lady,” she nodded her head, “You may leave us, Ser Rychard.” 

The guard gave her a slight shove forward out of the way of the door as he closed it behind them, leaving the two women almost alone, save for the handmaidens that scurried around the room around them. 

“Your Grace,” she lowered into a curtsy, “I must ask–”

“Save the pleasantries,” the queen hummed, turning her gaze back to the fire, “You were bold enough earlier. Do not tell me it was all for show.”

“I apologise if I overstepped earlier. I believe that you, of all people, can understand my desperation to preserve my cousin’s innocence.”

“I can,” the queen reached for the cup of wine at her side, taking a slow drink, “I have no intentions of harming a hair on Jaehaera’s head.”

“You mean it?” a weight was lifted from her shoulders, “What will you do with her?”

“I will keep her as my ward. Regardless of her parentage, she is a Targaryen princess and will be raised as such. She will know her histories, and she will have the finest things.”

“And will she know of her mother?”

Rhaenyra paused, “Helaena, for better or worse, is involved in such histories. I want the child to know not only of this war and the losses she has faced, but why they occurred and what we could learn from them.”

Y/n tilted her head and frowned, “No.”

“No?” the queen gasped, disbelief clear in her voice, “Tell me then, what would you have me do.”

“For better or for worse,” the younger woman scoffed, “For better or for worse, Helaena was nothing short of a victim. I understand that you had little relations with your siblings, for reasons I cannot fault you for. But in this war, for better or for worse, there were innocent lives lost on both sides.”

“Helaena took her own life.”

“Out of grief!” Y/n paused after her voice rose in volume, collecting herself before the queen, “Perhaps you had no part in the butchering of her son, as you say, but her death was nothing short of a casualty, I’m sure you can agree.”

Rhaenyra stood from her chair, crossing the room at a frightening speed, “You dare question my involvement in such…such…”

“Senselessness?”

The queen paused, staring at her with that same curious stare she had worn the day before in front of the court. 

“I believe you when you say that you had no part in this, Your Grace,” the young lady diverted her gaze to the floor, “But regardless, the order came from your late husband. The job was done in your name. Jaehaerys was not the first victim of this war, but the pain that this caused Helaena is one that you can almost understand yourself.”

“Do not speak of it.”

“This war has caused nothing but loss and heartache. Do not teach Jaehaera that her brother was butchered with purpose, or that her mother was a tyrant who chose to leave her.” her eyes had glossed over, and her grief had overcome the strength in her voice, “Helaena was special, she mattered, and for better or for worse, she was forced to watch as her son was brutally slain in his own bed, forced to submit to their will in order to not only save her own life, but Jaehaera’s as well. Teach her of her mother, and who she truly was. Do not paint her as a villain or a coward for her choice to leave this world.”

Rhaenyra stared at her for a moment, a rare glimmer of understanding appearing in her violet gaze before she lunged forward, taking the younger woman in her arms. Only then did the Hightower woman allow herself to weep for the first time since her imprisonment. 

The queen soothed her and brushed a hand over her hair. She held her close, allowing the younger woman to nuzzle into her neck as close as she needed. After a few moments, she pulled away, wiping her cheeks dry as she attempted to compose herself.

“My apologies, my queen. I do not know what has overcome me.”

She shook her head, hand coming up to brush her thumb across her cheekbone, “Do not apologise. You are right, I know just as well as anyone that you and Princess Jaehaera are innocent of any crime beyond being born a woman. I understand your grief. The princess will learn of her mother as she was, not as she will be remembered. She will know her brother and she will understand that I had no hand in his death. She will know her father, who, beyond his many faults, I am told, was as attentive a father as he could. When she is older, I will propose a marriage between her and my own son Aegon, so that she may carry on her mother’s legacy as queen consort and finally end this feud.”

“Only if she agrees,” Y/n whispered, “You claim yourself to be different from men like my grandsire. Do not force her into an unwanted marriage.”

Rhaenyra scoffed out a laugh, “You are a demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

The younger lady let out a small giggle of her own, glossy eyes staring into those of the queen. Neither of them took any notice of the curious stares of the servants around them as their foreheads came together, noses brushing as Rhaenyra teased her lips against the younger lady’s. She smiled at the surprise on her face, testing the waters once more before finally pressing their lips firmly together. 

Y/n was still, unsure of how to react. She had not been so intimate with anyone before, let alone another woman. She had been raised as a woman of the Faith, which warned against the dangers of such temptations, but there was something so alluring about the silver-haired woman that made her not want to pull away.

The kisses shared were soft at first, but slowly grew in passion as Rhaenyra took a handful of the younger woman’s hair in her hand, guiding her mouth along with her own. 

One of the servants cleared their throat, clearly uncomfortable with the display. Rhaenyra pulled away just enough to turn her head.

“Your Grace, your bath is ready.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, “leave us.”

The handmaidens made quick work of fleeing the queen’s chambers, no doubt eager to spread such gossip through the staff of the Red Keep. Once they were gone and the door was closed behind her, Rhaenyra turned her attention back to the starry-eyed girl in front of her.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Your Grace?”

“You heard me. I imagine you have been longing for a proper bath after days in confinement. Take off your clothes, and get in the tub.” The girl stared at her for a moment, causing some concern to appear  in Rhaenyra’s eyes, “Forgive me. You may leave if you wish. I will send some servants to your quarters for you to bathe in private if you so choose. However, I would like you to stay.”

At a loss for words, she mumbled out her most pressing concern, “What of the servants? Word will spread quickly, especially among suitors.”

“Suitors,” the queen snorted, “you complain of betrothals one minute, and demand one the next.”

The lady shook her head, “Not for me. Forgive me, Your Grace, but I had assumed you would wish to remarry once the throne was secured.”

“I have no desire to remarry. I have been widowed twice over, and not a single one of my lovers outlived this war. I do not wish for more children, or for company offered to me by any man. I cannot deny that we would face ridicule, but if you were to become my lover, I can protect you from unwanted betrothals and you will never face hardship again in your lifetime so long as I can protect you. Regardless of your answer, you are more than welcome at my court, and I encourage you to speak to the princess of her family, for no one could do her mother justice as I know you could.”

Y/n was stunned at the sudden change in demeanour. The woman who had called them before the court to interrogate and humiliate them for their parentage was now offering her a place in her bed. The woman who had only just gotten cross with her was here offering her a permanent position not only in her court as a subject, but also as an equal within these rooms.

“Say the word,” Rhaenyra breathed into her flesh, dragging the bump of her nose down the column of her throat, “And you will be free of me. I shall never ask you of this again. Or, take off your clothes, and you may have everything you could ever want.”

Y/n inhaled sharply before a nervous smile appeared on her lips, “Help me with my laces?”

Rhaenyra smirked, pressing one more kiss to her lips as she took her by the hand, leading her further into her bedchambers to where the large wooden tub had been prepared. She forced her to turn, making quick work of the laces at the back of her gown and helping her strip. Luckily, the gown was rather plain, simple blue cotton over her shift, and she was bare before the queen within moments. 

Rhaenyra’s eyes scanned up and down her figure, a satisfied smile rising to her lips, “Your beauty exceeds my expectations, my love.”

The shift from enemy to lover was swift, so quick that Y/n felt like her head would begin to spin. She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she gingerly allowed the queen to take her by the hand, guiding her to step into the steaming water and sink into the warmth. She sighed at the feeling, having only had access to a small basin of lukewarm water between the three of them for the past fortnight. 

“Would you like some wine?” Rhaenyra asked her, already beginning to pour her a cup before she answered.

“It couldn’t hurt,” Y/n answered bashfully, accepting the cup and taking a long sip from it before allowing Rhaenyra to set it aside. 

Rhaenyra allowed Y/n to bathe in silence, sitting at her side and helping to scrub the oils away from her scalp with tender hands, manicured nails massaging the gentle skin and causing the girl to tip her head back and let out a small noise of contentment.

After she was cleaner than she had ever felt in her life, Rhaenyra’s hands moved down the back of her neck, softly massaging the tense muscle until she reached her shoulders. They then pushed down her back as far as she could reach before her flesh met the side of the tub, and began crawling around her front. Her nails tickled the flesh over her ribs, settling just beneath the slouched underside of her breasts, but made no effort to crawl any higher. Her soft pink lips ghosted up the side of her neck, inhaling the fresh scent of the oils in the tub. 

“Tell me to stop,” the queen whispered, “And we will never speak of this again.”

The younger woman exhaled shakily, slowly turning her head to come face-to-face with the queen. Their noses brushed one another for a moment as Rhaenyra waited with bated breath as she waited for her answer.

“Do not stop.”

The words were out of her mouth no more than a second before Rhaenyra’s lips descended on her own, fingers crawling up and firmly cupping her breasts in her palms. The younger woman gasped in surprise, but quickly relaxed into the queen’s touch as she rolled her already pebbled nipples between her fingers, completely disregarding the fact that the long sleeves of her gown were now doused in the water. One hand began to descend further into the water, tracing across her ribs, the soft pudge of her belly, and just barely reaching the thatch of curls that just barely protected her modesty. 

She pulled away with a gasp, “Wha-what are you doing?”

Recognition appeared in Rhaenyra’s eyes, her features softening, “You are a maiden?”

The girl shook her head, “My great-aunt once told me that if I was not chaste until my wedding night, I would be damning not only myself, but my entire house as well.” 

“If that were true, I can promise you that many of these great houses would be damned, my own included,” Rhaenyra scoffed, “With a man, it can be painful, but nice. I admit, I am not quite as experienced with my own sex as I am the opposite, but I find it just as if not even more enjoyable. Women are more…in-tune with one another.”

She stared at the queen inquisitively, “What do you mean?”

“You would understand what feels nice to you based on your personal explorations, just as I do.”

“Explorations?”

A small chuckle escaped Rhaenyra’s throat as she pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, “My sweet, you are truly so innocent, aren’t you. Do not tell me you have never pleasured yourself.”

The girl shook her head, brows furrowed. Pleasure? What could she mean? Everyone had told her that coupling with her lord husband would be unpleasant for the first while, but may begin to feel nice after some time, but no one had ever mentioned anything of her own pleasure. 

“Then I would humbly request that I be the first to show you,” Rhaenyra smirked at her, “just say the word.”

Her nimble fingers played with the hair between her legs, tracing over it playfully and laughing to herself at the jump of the younger woman’s hips under the slightest of touches. Her thighs clamped together, this familiar feeling pooling between her thighs becoming more overwhelming than ever; she would normally wait this out, clean the wetness away and carry on, but she did not think that the queen was going to allow her to this time.

“Yes,” she uttered out, mouth feeling impossibly dry, “yes, please, Your Grace.”

The title sent a shiver down Rhaenyra’s spine, perhaps something to be reused at another time when she did not need to be so gentle with her. 

“In here, we are equals, my love. You may call me Rhaenyra, or whatever you wish.”

The queen’s name rolled off her tongue fluidly, and Rhaenyra revelled in the sound. She finally pulled away, standing to her full height and extending a hand to the woman and carefully helping her step out of the cooling water and onto the stone flooring. She led her back to where the fire continued to roar within its hearth, and turned her back to her. 

“Help me?” She called over her shoulder, moving her long braid to the side as the younger woman eagerly helped her undress.

The young Hightower woman stared in awe at the sight of her queen, appearing like a goddess before her as the firelight flickered off of her milky-white flesh. Rhaenyra was nothing short of beautiful, if that word was even suitable for a woman so divine. Y/n felt an overwhelming urge to bend to her every whim and desire.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” she whispered as Rhaenyra turned back to face her, chests brushing against one another with every heaving breath. 

“Have you seen many women in such a state, my lady?” Rhaenyra teased, an easy smile appearing on her lips.

The younger woman looked down bashfully, “I have not. But I doubt any other could rival you.”

Rhaenyra shook her head, kissing her so slowly it felt more like heavy breaths falling from their lips than anything else, “But you do, my sweet.”

Rhaenyra pulled her impossibly closer, deepening their kiss until her tongue was able to familiarise itself with the interior of her mouth. Y/n’s gentle fingers found their place on the queen’s jaw, holding her close as Rhaenyra reached around her, one hand gliding up and down her back while the other shamelessly grasped at her bottom, softly massaging one cheek in her grasp and smirking at the squeak of surprise it drew from her new lover. 

“Lay down,” she breathed into her, guiding the younger woman down to lay flat on the luxurious white fur rug in front of the hearth, wasting no time in dropping down to lay on her side next to her. “I need you to relax, I have nothing but pleasure in store for you, my sweet.”

Her pink lips traced down the length of Y/n’s throat, quickly descending further down to engulf her pert nipple between her lips, tugging and nipping at it as gasps and whimpers began escaping her lover. She moved to the other breast, taking her time in worshipping the flesh and nipples alike.

“How does this feel?” She asked between kisses pressed to her sternum, “I wish to hear you always, my love.”

“G-good. I cannot–I cannot explain it, but…”

“I understand, sweet girl,” Rhaenyra kissed her lips again this time, the hand that had once been resting on Y/n belly had slid further down to rest between her thighs once more, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the skin, “Will you allow me to feel you?”

The younger woman hesitantly nodded, breath hitching as Rhaenyra parted her thighs and finally breached the curls with her fingertips, a soft sigh falling from her lips as she felt the wetness pooling at her core.

“Feel this?” She asked, moving her fingers around to collect some of her slick before drawing small circles on her sensitive pearl, “feel how much you desire me? Nothing could stop me from having you, my sweet.”

For a split second, that same dark glint appeared in Rhaenyra’s eyes, the one she had the day prior in the Throne Room. For better or for worse, Rhaenyra was a Targaryen, all bound to have some darkness within them. If she were not so disposed at the moment, Y/n may have felt a sense of fear, but instead it only furthered her desire.

“Oh,” she jolted at Rhaenyra’s movement, legs widening at the warming sensation that appeared in the pit of her tummy, “my love,” Rhaenyra grinned at the name, “I feel…”

“Good?” Rhaenyra asked.

The girl nodded enthusiastically, tilting her head back into the plush rug as Rhaenyra dared to breach her entrance with her fingertips. Rhaenyra watched her face for any discomfort as her finger easily sank into her sweet heat, glad to find none even as she inserted another.

Y/n let out a cry of protest as Rhaenyra removed her fingers entirely, bringing them up to her lips and sucking every drop of her juices off of her digits. Y/n watched in awe, her kiss-swollen lips parted in surprise at the vulgarity of it all. 

“You taste divine,” Rhaenyra cooed, moving to kneel between her parted thighs, “and look how beautiful,” the girl let out a whimper as she traced her finger around the entirety of her cunt, “I fear I may perish if I do not taste you this instant.”

She left no room for questioning or protest as she settled on her belly, back arched with her ass high in the air behind her. Y/n only wished she could step out of her body for a moment to admire the sight from behind, but was quickly brought out of her thoughts as Rhaenyra dragged her tongue slowly up the entirety of her core, from taint to clitoris. 

She pushed herself up on her elbows in surprise, thighs clamping shut around Rhaenyra’s head as she began to alternate between licking around her entrance and suckling on her sweet, swollen pearl of nerves. The first true moan of pleasure was dragged from her throat as the queen sucked her clit, tugging at it with her lips for a moment before letting it slip back beneath its hood with a soft gushing noise. Rhaenyra chuckled, taking great pleasure in noticing how wet and responsive the young lady was to her touch, finally conceding and nuzzling her face into her wetness and focusing on bringing her to the brink.

She was not far off, having never felt such pleasure before in her life. She supported herself with one hand behind her, back arching into her touch as the other hand planted itself on the back of Rhaenyra’s head. Her eyes suddenly widened in shock, the feeling in the pit of her stomach far too strong to fight off any longer.

“Oh, oh,” she panted, “Your G–Rhaenyra, you must stop. I think I am going to–oh!”

Her face burned with embarrassment, thighs closing together as Rhaenyra pulled away. She could not believe that she had just…the feeling had been so similar to that of when she needed to use the chamber pot. Had she truly just peed on the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms?

But Rhaenyra was dry as she returned to her side, save for the wetness smeared from her chin to her nose and across both cheeks. She was quick to press an eager kiss to her lips, allowing the girl to taste herself on her tongue as she smoothed her hand over her soft belly comfortingly. 

“You are so lovely,” the queen mused, “every part of you. Now, let me clean you–”

“No,” the lady protested, “let me…I wish to return the…”

Rhaenyra grinned shamelessly, “You wish to pleasure me?”

She nodded bashfully, feeling so vulnerable yet so connected at the same time as she came down from her own orgasm. Rhaenyra nodded, shifting herself across the rug once more until she was facing the opposite direction, stroking her lover’s hair gently.

“Tap my leg if this is too much. Just lay back, and allow me to take my pleasure from you.”

Rhaenyra quickly swung her leg over the girl’s head, straddling her face as she slowly lowered herself. 

“Stick out your tongue, my love. Remember what you liked, kisses and licks, remember?”

Y/n nodded, brushing her own hair away from her sweaty cheeks and following her instructions as the queen lowered herself onto her face, a low moan rumbling from her jaw as her dripping cunt settled onto Y/n’s awaiting tongue. 

Rhaenyra gripped her hair, slowly beginning to grind her hips down against her as the girl lapped eagerly at her core, moaning at the musky taste of the queen’s most intimate centre. She did her best to follow the movements that Rhaenyra had administered on her own core, licking and kissing until she was eventually engulfing the entirety of her cunt in her hot mouth, slurping and sucking at her juices. Rhaenyra laughed in surprise at this, grinding her hips harder.

“I had no idea you could be so greedy, my love,” she chuckled, rolling her head back in pleasure, “Oh, yes, yes.”

The girl was spurred on by the praise, testing the barrier of her clenching hole with her tongue as Rhaenyra rocked her hips harder and harder, forcing her clit down on the girl’s nose. Her words of praise became slurred as her movements sped up, loud yells of pleasure leaving her, no doubt revealing to the guards outside her chambers exactly what was happening between the queen and her prisoner.

Rhaenyra, having gone without touch since long before she invaded the capitol, was almost as quick to finish as her sweet maiden had been, moaning in pleasure as thick drips of white fluid oozed from her tight hole, covering the entire lower half of the younger woman’s face. 

The queen was pleased to find a grin on her lover’s face as she climbed off of her, quick to greet her with a kiss of dying passion, tiredness overtaking each of them as they laid together, hands wandering across naked skin. 

“Stay with me tonight,” the queen murmured, “and I will bring you so much pleasure you will not even remember your own name.”

Realisation dawned on the Hightower maiden, remembering Jaehaera and Alicent locked in that tower while she could sleep in the queen’s own bed that very night. Guilt gnawed at her conscience, though she would never find it within herself to regret any of what had transpired between them that night. 

“I cannot,” she frowned, “Jaehaera, she wept when I was escorted away. I promised her I would be back.”

A soft smile appeared on her face, “You care for her as your own. I admire that.”

Y/n shrugged, “As I have said, she is innocent in all of this. She does not even understand why she does not see her mother anymore.”

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, “You and the princess will be given proper chambers on the morrow, just allow me some time to arrange it. I would not dream of sending her back to that nursery, so she may stay in the rooms near my own children out of convenience for the maids. You, however, my love, will have the queen’s chambers.”

Her eyes bugged out of her head, “The–Rhaenyra I cannot–”

“You can, and you will.” She pressed, “as I have told you, I have no desire to remarry or take another man to bed. You are the closest I will ever have to another spouse, I swear it to you now. If I could take you to wife and make you consort at my side, I would.”

The Hightower woman felt warmth spread across her cheeks, but a gnawing question tugged at her, unable to deny herself of seeking the answer. 

“And my aunt, the Queen Dowager?”

Rhaenyra’s face hardened, “I shared a love with Alicent as a child, one that I have never been able to replace. For that, and for your sake and Jaehaera’s, I swear to be merciful to her. However, she began this war, and plotted against me from the moment my sweet Jace took his first breath. For that, I cannot forgive. She will be treated well, but she will remain in confinement for the rest of her days, as she has requested in exchange for your own freedom.”

Y/n was silent for a moment, knowing that this truly was the best outcome possible for her aunt at this point, “Will we be allowed to visit her? I knew Helaena enough, but Jaehaera would benefit most from Alicent, who knew her better than anyone.”

She pondered for a moment before coming up with her response, “So long as she bends the knee and accepts her fate, I will grant you visitation once a week, and you may pray together if you must.”

Y/n nodded, leaning in and trailing her own sweet kisses up Rhaenyra’s jaw and to her lips, “Thank you, my love.”

She jumped in surprise as Rhaenyra’s hand enclosed around her throat, applying no pressure except for the slight press of her thumb on her jugular as she pulled her in to meet her kiss once more, this one slower and lazier than the others as their lips dragged across one another’s softly. 

“For better or for worse,” the queen whispered into her, “you are mine, now and forever.”

[muffinsin]

Hi! I discovered your page recently and have been in LOVEEE with it ever since. It says your inbox is open, but getting full so i hope requesting something right now is okay! I was just wondering if you could do a dimitrescu sisters × teen sister reader? the reader is human and I think it would be cool to see how the sisters react and treat her (I think they would be really gentle because they're scared of scaring/hurting her) ty so much! <3 (I love your prompts)

Awhhh, this is such a cute, wholesome prompt! And funnily enough, I don’t think I’ve ever written HCs about a teen sister!🙌 I’m happy to hear ya like my prompts, hon :)

Let’s get into it🙌🥳

Masterlists

Bela

Bela is, by now, utterly used to her role as the eldest sister

And while she does consider and call Cassandra and Daniela her “little sisters”, they’re really not all that different as it comes to their ages

A difference of mere hours, really, biologically speaking

When she was a newborn fly spawn, they were newborn fly spawns

When she was a toddler, they were toddlers

When she was a teen, they were teens

When she turned into a (-responsible) adult, they did. Biologically speaking, of course. She’s certain especially Daniela hasn’t made it all the way there, at times

But, all in all, she’s very similar to her sisters as it comes to age, despite being the eldest and their older sister

And then, there’s you…

A new sibling, a new sister

A little sister

But…a real, far younger sister

A teen

A teen, whereas she has lived for centuries

Bela has been fond of you from the start. Sure, she wasn’t originally happy about getting another sister, but the moment she laid eyes on you and got to know you, she started to love you just as she loves and treasures and protects her sisters

At first, it’s very difficult for her to act as a sister, truthfully, rather than a mother

You’re just so…young, compared to her! It’s difficult for her not to get overly maternal, as she sometimes still tends to get with your older sisters

Bela tries to understand you, and your interests

That doesn’t mean she’s good at it, though. She doesn’t care much for things she deems a waste of time, and is hardly a troublemaker. This alone has her stray from anything that could be considered rebellious

She also has difficulty not telling on you to your mother when you do something, or to take matters into her own hands and scolds you

Technically, you know she’s supposed to do this, being the eldest and all

Still, it’s sometimes a little difficult for the two of you to connect

Especially with how unreachable Bela seems at times; so intelligent, such good manners. Loved or respected by nearly everyone despite her nature, purely because of how she presents herself

Mother’s heiress…

She seems so impossibly strong, in her own way. Of course, you partly look up to her. But it’s difficult to see yourself on the same level as her

Sometimes, you’re sure because of all this she must be Mother’s favorite, and it occasionally nabs at you, how you have no chance of getting to where she is

But, she loves you dearly, and you love her

She will always comfort and guide you, even help you grow

She’s your protector, in a way, helping you always

Especially when feelings get the better of you. She reassures you often; it’s okay to feel this and that, and that it’s perfectly normal to feel certain things at your age

She also puts you in your place when you’re in the wrong, though, gently telling you and ensuring you know: she still loves you after

And, actually, you find Bela gives amazing hugs, and while she isn’t the sister to hug without asking what’s wrong, you find comfort in that, too

Out of all of your sisters Bela is best at controlling her strenght

Which, sometimes, is a little unfortunate because she’s also the sister that refuses to wrestle with you for fun. Apparently, she doesn’t “see the point” in that

At least she feels utterly comfortable hugging you, knowing that she won’t hurt you

She would never hurt you

Cassandra

The first time she heard of having a sister, she was thrilled!

And when she met you the first time, the two of you got along instantly

Cassandra feels much less unreachable than her older sister

Much more- approachable

She’s sadistic, has a short temper- much like your mother, at times- and rough

But you love her, and she loves and treasures you

She’s the first to take you out on a hunt to the forest, is the one to teach you to fight and keep yourself safe

While she has a little more difficulty controlling her strength at times and therefore occasionally keeps her distance, she has never hurt you

Cassandra is, in her own way, a role model to you

She’s fierce and powerful

She easily takes down her prey and entertains you with her stories of her hunts and previous victims

She teaches you to be strong, teaches you what it means to be a Dimitrescu. And even when you can’t be strong, she’s strong for you, easily putting others in their place with a mere glance their way

Cassandra and you spend a lot of time together, and she’s genuinely interested in most you have to say

By now you know, she will not care for gossip or anything like that. The wrong sister for that, certainly. And you know, she won’t even bother pretending to listen to that

But, she’ll listen to all you’re genuinely passionate about, perhaps even participate if it’s for her

She encourages you to follow your hobbies and make the most of them

Like with her sisters, after all, Alcina allows you to choose at least one hobby and fully supports it. She will not stand for any of her daughters not pursuing anything, however

When you have difficulty choosing what could be fit for you, Cassandra is eager to help out

She shows you this and that, and is eager to try most new things with you

Cassandra is also the sister to turn to when you want to know what they and your mother were like a few centuries ago

The fun stuff, that is

She’ll tell you every detail she so easily remembers, occasionally also brag about things she did particularly well

Often, she’ll sprinkle in a few details you’re sure aren’t quite that true, but you don’t mind

You find, she also inspires you to be creative like that!

Speaking of little half truths here and there, Cassandra is the first to teach you how to lie and get away with it at the castle

Now, of course you’ve lied plenty times already in your life

But with Alcina, it seems impossible. Like she fully knows when you’re not being entirely honest

Even Bela seems to know, somehow, sometimes!

It’s infuriating, but Cassandra is quick to teach you

In return, she becomes about the only sister you are always truthful to

You never feel the need to lie to her, even when you’re planning on doing something stupid or risky

Often enough she’ll join in, or cover for you at least

When she does tell you not to do something, which is rare, you listen

You know, she means well, and doesn’t underestimate you or whatever you’re about to do

You value her opinion, and when she says not to do something, she tends to be right

Daniela

Daniela finds you utterly adorable, as she calls you

She doesn’t quite remember her “teen” years, really

But that’s okay

She’s every bit as playful and still has a bit of a habit to get herself into trouble, much like you do, occasionally

She likes to join you when you’re about to do something risky, and at times even is the one proposing it and whining to you about joining her

Of course, she will always keep you safe during those times

Though your mother is unhappy to say at the least when she catches you, her youngest, covered in dirt and blood from head to toe after your sister insisted throwing guts like snowballs is a blast!

In many ways, Daniela doesn’t quite feel like an older sister

She’s playful, a little immature, teasing, socially intelligent, and quite handsy with the maidens. She’s a little clingy and delusional, but always has your best interests at heart, the same as your other sisters

She always has some gossip to talk to you about, rambling about this and that she picked up while lounging and swarming about in the castle

She loves to read, and loves to share her favorite books with you

Unlike her sisters, she isn’t overly picky with her interests, either

She isn’t into mathematics or science. Aside from that, she’ll happily learn about all you’re interested in

She’ll participate in your hobbies, or lounge on your bed like a lazy cat while you ramble about your hobbies and fixations

She doesn’t mind at all. She loves to learn about new things, and remembers surprisingly much you tell her despite her short term memory span

Often, she remembers even more of your stories and ramblings than your other sisters do, as she’s genuinely interested in your hobbies, even when she has no clue about them

Daniela, in a way, feels like a best friend rather than a sister

She’s always there for you, will always protect and teach you. She’s silly, playful, will never say no to some good fun and often even convince you to “play” with the maidens or her sisters, seeing how much the two of you can annoy them until they notice

She teaches you to be strong too, yes, but perhaps even more so, Daniela has a way of teaching you how to get along with people

How to blend in with them, how to lure information from others by casually being around them

No, not by using some reverse psychology and what not like Bela. By listening. By being friendly. By making them ramble on their own

She teaches you to make friends, even with the reputation of your family, and how to effortlessly start conversations

And even when you can’t make a friend, she reminds you that you will always have your family

She teaches you, of course, also how to get what you want from Alcina

Generally, Alcina has a hard time saying no to any of her daughters. You’re all so precious to her, and there’s rarely a time she’ll deny a wish coming from one of you

Daniela, having been in the role of the youngest for the longest time and still having her sweet, pouty puppy eyes ready, teaches you how to get just about anything you want from your mother

Whether it’s clothing or toys (often in Daniela’s case those are servants), treats or anything from the outside world, she teaches you to properly ask for it

And yet; she has the hardest time controlling her strenght

She loves physical touch as a means to show her affection. She loves to hug her sisters even when they try to peel her away from them, acting all annoyed when they really aren’t, and she loves to wrap her arms around Alcina’s waist, hugging her whenever she can in exchange for some heat pats and scratches

With you, she must actively hold back

You’re…fragile

You’re human

You’re her little sister

She would never want to hurt you!

But, she can’t help it sometimes, and feels horrible when she hugs you and is just a tad bit too excited, causing her arms around you to be a little too tight

She always takes care of you after, her eyes wide and wet as she blinks away tears, feeling so utterly guilty for hurting you

You always reassure her; it’s not her fault

You still love her

She’s still your older sister

You still admire and look up to her

And it’s all it takes to have her smile widely again

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 1

Trigger Warnings: None

Weeks had gone by and it was nearly December. The wolves had changed in who they were. Jeongin became a tougher alpha and spent many weeks training to his full potential, but he also learned to be a better mate to Y/N. He was still making it up to her. Seungmin was still as cocky as ever and spent more time researching the dark side of werewolf lore in case they ended up in a tragic situation again. Felix was sensitive if not more sensitive after what happened and felt more protective of all the wolves so he offered to take part in more training, unlike Jisung who became glued to the side of Y/N. Jisung was far too in love with Y/N and loved to express that as he helped her around the house. Jisung made sure to always tell her she looked beautiful and made a point to kiss her scar first before her lips. Changbin was now on a course to look after werewolves as his sister Jaehee realised how useless Changbin was at saving his own omega. Changbin wasn't great but he could now stitch a minor cut. Minho on the other hand grew colder, he was hurting the most out of all of them. He still did his usual stuff but stayed out of debates and never gave his opinion. Him and Y/N were still not alright. They never spoke to each other unless it was a 'good morning' or a 'thank you'. Minho lost a lot of trust with Y/N and some of the others, but her words cut deep and he wasn't on the path of forgiveness yet. Hyunjin had gone back to his cold self and spent time in his art room, but still made time for Y/N.Chan had woken up but was bedridden as his ribs were still not healing but he was fine. He was pissed for the first twenty-four hours when he found out about Y/N's mission of death, but he got over it, knowing she was fine. He was happier when she came in to look after him, he appreciated her omegaing him but he knew it was tiring her out because she too was slowly healing.

Then there was Y/N she healed eventually but was still bandaged up. Spiritually she was damaged and Hyunjin's soul was trying to repair hers but it was too exhausting for him so she asked him to stop. Y/N wasn't as active as she had liked to be but still made a point to get up and see her wolves, despite Jisung being stuck to her. Not one of them had asked her about that night and it almost became a taboo subject. It was almost silently forbidden to be discussed. Y/N wanted to bring it up to apologise but when she did they would wave her off and tell her it's fine. Still, she knew Minho and Jeongin were the two she massively owed an apology to, but getting them alone was going to be harder. Minho was going to be her biggest challenge but she was going to start off strong by writing him a letter in case he refused to hear her apology and then giving him the flowers. By flowers, she meant the ones she picked from the garden and put into the vase after she turfed out the others. When Y/N came back into the kitchen she saw Minho prepping dinner. He was aware she walked into the kitchen and usually, he doesn't speak unless she speaks first. Y/N had to admit she felt incredibly nervous speaking to him and it was mainly because she hated hearing what she had done wrong. Y/N knew and understood her actions but hearing them made her slightly uncomfortable and defensive. "Minho?" Y/N called as she stood there awkwardly watching him. "Hmm?" Minho acknowledged her but did not look at her so Y/N decided he was comfortable with whatever she was going to say. "I wanted to say I'm sorry okay? Just hear me out and don't say anything. I only want you to listen." Y/N waited for him but he said nothing, making her roll her eyes. "I am sorry for not being grateful for your efforts. I know you worked hard to help and you did more than what I realised and I appreciate that. I guess I wanted to help and, anyway that's not the point. Forget that part. The main thing I wanted to apologise was for using your insecurity against you. I know it was low and I didn't mean it. I'm not good at apologies so I picked some flowers and wrote a letter of apology which I want you to read."

Y/N almost cursed herself at her botched apology. She completely messed it up but there was nothing she could do now except leave the letter on the table and leave him alone, which she did. Y/N left the kitchen and was about to head up to see Chan when Changbin entered the room in his medical clothes. Y/N greeted the beta with a gentle hug which Changbin was grateful for. Y/N knew Changbin wasn't really enjoying the hospital work and studying with his sister, he would rather be at the gym and then play his x-box. Changbin threw his bag down and kicked on his shoes while holding Y/N as he nuzzled her face against his, before pecking her lips. "Shall we go nurse Channie?" Y/N giggled as she kissed him again. "Let me unwind baby and then I'll come right up," Changbin whispered. Y/N nodded and headed up to see Chan who was idly staring up at the ceiling. It made Y/N laugh at how bored he looked. He was completely fed up with being stuck in the bedroom but his right leg was struggling to heal. "Felix said he might take my stitches out soon," Y/N said as she walked over to him and sat on his bed. Chan smiled up at her as he reached for her hand to hold. He loved it when she came to visit him. Admittedly, Chan sometimes got lonely since he was cooped up in the same four walls. "I want to tell you something and I don't want you to take it the wrong way baby. You know I love you." Chan said softly. "Oh no. Uh. Uh. Whatever it is Mr alpha I ain't doing it." Y/N answered as she bopped his nose like a child. "I'm being serious, baby," Chan said causing Y/N to frown. Why was he being so serious? "I know you are feeling incredibly anxious because you are feeling unclaimed and I know I haven't claimed you fully because I wanted to wait until you could trust me and your body was fully healed, but I know at the moment I'm not going to be in any position to do a while and I don't want you to feel unstable in my pack. We all love you, despite the conflicts we do. Which is why I had a chat with Jeongin and I want him to claim you." Chan stated. "No. Jeongin is fuming with me and besides I am completely fine. I'm not feeling anxious, or disconnected in any way. I want to wait. I want you, besides you could lay there." Y/N hinted with a smirk as she pulled his duvet cover down. Chan rolled his eyes nonchalantly. "Baby. Jeongin is over it, if anything it's Minho that's going to take a while. He accepts what you have said but he doesn't forgive easily. Besides Jeongin wants to ease your anxiety." Chan cooed. "I want you Channie to be the first. I don't care how long we have to wait for your leg to get better. Besides Seungmin can keep up." Y/N stated. "My love. What did I do to deserve you." Chan cooed, his heart swelling with pride. As much as he wanted to be the first his mark was already there and she needed to feel settled. "Ya, let's play doctors and nurses," Changbin shouted as he kicked the door open. "Fuck sake," Chan muttered.

Taglist for the iconic readers

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 o @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim @emi-han @iknow-uknow-leeknow @jigglypuff3000 @aalexyuuuhm @reallychaoticwoo @missseoulite @ihrtlix @estella-novella @xxeiraxx

[valenrixo]

OMG, I love your writing!! Could I please request some more of the yandere femboy gamer?

of course!! thank you for the compliment 😋

This one got kinda long | insecure reader and yandere ! Shocker…

Yandere femboy gamer strikes again

Yandere femboy gamer who one day gets a anonymous message that you were gonna break up with him. He freaked out and as soon as you got back to work he clung to you but didn’t say anything.

“What’s wrong?” You asked a bit worried, usually he’d be chatting up a storm right now. You put your bag down and placed a hand on top of his head to try to get his attention.

“You’re gonna leave me…and i won’t be someone’s wife anymore…” you heard him pout, his voice slightly muffled from how he buried his face in your chest. You were about to respond before it clicked in your brain, “wife???” You thought looking down at him.

“You’re not gonna leave me are you!? I won’t let you! You’re mine! My spouse!” He suddenly sprung from your chest and looked up at you.

Yandere femboy gamer who made you lay in bed with him for the rest of the night cuddling and watching movies together, well as well as you could cuddle him while your feet were tied together and your arms.

Yandere femboy gamer who explains his favorite new game to you! One that he plays while you’re at work and you’re just over here with a deadpanned expression wondering why he tied you up in the first place.

Yandere femboy gamer who eventually unties you because his jealousy is gone. It wasn’t more than an hour that you were tied up but you still wondered how the hell that turned someone on.

Yandere femboy gamer who slipped out of the room for a moment and came back in a small frilly skirt before he started tying himself up and you realized what he wanted.

“Killian, it’s the middle of the night…shouldn’t we sleep??” You whispered trying to get the rope away from him.

“But….but…I want to be pounded…-“

“You can’t just say things like that!” You said red faced, not like you didn’t want to have sex with him you just wanted it to be the right time and being half awake from work is definitely not the right time for that. Especially since it’s your first time with him irl.

“So a no?..” he asked peering over his shoulder at you, you sighed and fidgeted with the frills of his skirt nervously. Was it the not the right time or were you just nervous that you wouldn’t be appealing to him.

He wiggled his ass a bit to entice you but seeing the insecurity in your eyes he stopped and untied himself, he plopped down in your lap.

“Fine, we won’t do it until you’re ready.” He muttered cuddling up to you, sure he was coco hungry but never enough to force you.

“You look pretty in the skirt—“ you complimented him

“Pretty like a wife?!” He squealed and turned around now straddling you.

“Yeah I guess..”

Yandere femboy gamer who calls himself your wife for some reason, you asked him once why and he just said because you two are basically married so he’s your wife. You didn’t question it any further because you knew he’d be crying again and asking if you were gonna break up with him.

Yandere femboy gamer who came to your work one day and demanded to see you because the one time he was streaming one of his chat members said you were cheating, all you were doing was typing boring numbers into the computer all day…

Yandere femboy gamer who forces you to be on call with him all day, him on mute just so he can hear your interactions with your coworkers.

Uhh I need to stop writing this now before it gets too long..

Requests open more yanderes coming soon please read my dos and don’ts before requesting.

[manchasama]

You know, historically I did most of my writing as random ficlets. Maybe that is why these are a bit easier? Either way, feeling out characterizations, these are fun to do!

--

"What are you doing?"

Ingo didn't move from where he was looking down at the brown…circles in front of him. "Baking," he said. He didn't have to look to sense Emmet's stare. "…Theoretically," he conceded with a sigh.

Emmet poked one of the circles. It dented under his finger, but bounced back into shape instantly. "It doesn't look bad," he said. He poked the circle again, fascinated at its texture.

"While that means a lot coming from you, unfortunately the taste leaves much to be desired." Ingo's frown pulled deeper. "They taste bad. I don't understand how the same ingredients can come out so wrong!"

Emmet leaned over so he could look Ingo in the face. His smile had a hint of teasing humor in it. "It looks like you tried to bake donuts?"

Ingo wasn't listening. "I have looked at dozens of recipes! I measured everything exactly so." He gestured ferociously toward the pile of used dishes soaking in the sink. "Baking is supposed to be easy." He threw his hands up, exasperation written in every line of his body. "You merely need to follow the directions, with the exact measurements. I thought I could do this!"

"Hmmmmm," Emmet drawled, looking entirely unsympathetic. "Why did you bake them? Aren't donuts fried?"

Ingo grimaced, half turned away as if that would save him from his brother's attention. "…I merely wanted it to be a bit…healthier."

"Uh huh," Emmet said. "And how may donuts have you snuck behind my back this week?"

"That is NOT why I did it!" Ingo protested loudly.

Emmet cackled, covering his ears dramatically from the sudden volume. "That is a confession if ever I heard one!"

All Ingo could do was splutter protests that fell on deaf ears. Emmet was far too delighted in catching Ingo out on his sweet tooth. Why were younger brothers so infuriating?

"If you are quite finished," Ingo said stiffly, "I have to clean up this mess." Emmet's smile still reached from ear to ear, his face rosy from his laughter. He reached out to poke one of the donuts again, and Ingo swatted at his hand. "Stop that! I need to wrap them properly, and I don't need your fingerprints all over them."

"Wrap them?" Emmet asked, eyeing Ingo as he picked up the plate of pastries. "Ingo, you are not planning on eating those?"

"Of course I am," Ingo sighed. "Just because they aren't ideal, doesn't mean I should waste food."

"Oh no you don't." Emmet swiped the plate of 'donuts' from Ingo's hand. "This is now a treat for Garbador!"

"But—" Ingo tried to protest.

"Nope!" Emmet popped the word in his mouth. "You can learn from your mistake. You do not need to force yourself to suffer because of it."

"Emmet…" Ingo would deny to his dying day the whine in his voice. "All I have learned is that donuts should not be baked!"

Emmet gave a satisfied nod. "And that is a valuable lesson."

They stared at each other silently. Then Ingo lunged, and Emmet turned and fled out the kitchen before Ingo could catch him.

"Emmet!" Ingo bellowed, charging recklessly after his brother.

"Garbador! I have a treat! Quick!" Emmet hollered, thumping against the walls as he took corners at speed. The real miracle of the day was the fact that he kept all of the donuts on the plate. At least until Ingo tackled him and the whole thing went tumbling across the floor.

Garbador did indeed enjoy her treat.

[orangetintedglasses]

He nodded-- it was true, even just attempting to access data like that without the right clearance level could get them locked out of who knows what else... which, had he been by himself, was a risk Vash would have been fine taking. He would have been fine spending way too long sifting through personal messages and emails, just to maybe glance a fraction of a password. Would've camped out for ages on the off-chance someone was oblivious enough to say the wrong thing out loud, or let him catch the code off of a keypad--

But. He wasn't on his own here (thankfully), and Wolfwood offered some valuable insight and direction.

... aaaaas well as other things, apparently, because of course Vash's eyes would bounce when the undertaker mentioned his mass; dropping down to his chest and then immediately back up again, face screwing up in embarrassment. Dammit. W-well, at least splitting up might let them cool off...

Yeah, I can do that. Not exactly my first time crawling around through Eye facility ducts-- we're not going to be able to communicate like this once we split up, but there's another duct near the central hub, past where the junction box is; we can meet up around there.

... but the image of Wolfwood willingly tanking bullets hadn't left his mind quite yet, thoroughly stuck there like a Worm in a glue trap. And while he didn't think Wolfwood would go looking for trouble unless provoked or needed... the thought was still enough to make his stomach twist. Vash grabbed for the closest of the undertaker's sleeves, pinching what was left between two gloved fingers and tugging; a non-verbal request to look at me.

Blue eyes were just as plaintive as they were determined, even in the dark.

Don't... engage, if you can help it. Please. You've already been hurt enough today.

No, we should just get going. If they don't want anyone on the upper levels to know about the lower section, there won't be any information that we can access. If there is, it's locked up tight and probably way too risky to try to find.

Wolfwood shakes his head to match his thoughts. He's contemplative, scanning over the rooms on the map with a pensive expression.

The administrator up here was probably doing something way different than whoever was in charge down there. At best, I think the only thing we'd find are messages sent from one department to the other. And that's if we're lucky.

Honestly, the idea of traveling through vents stresses him out. It's nothing he can't handle, but usually he makes a lot of space with the Punisher on his back. Fighting in closed, small spaces isn't really something he practices often. Was it part of his training? Yes, but he doesn't really use it.

Now for strategy...

Are we splitting up here? I can take the direct route if you wanna go chew on wires. Could also crawl through vents, but I don't wanna get in the way. I'm... I have a little bit more body mass than you. You know, with my chest and all. Just a little harder for me.

[inmyheaddd]

✦ nobody gets me, you do - averyjameson

a/n: wooo games untold release day!!! the first part of this is so silly help i love max summary: avery has the worst interview in the world, with constant interruptions and snide comments. jameson is watching it from home, (along with his brothers, max, and lyra) and finds himself going to see avery, despite her team telling him no. wc: 2.4k

max was watching her best friends interview live on her phone, sitting in her boyfriends bed.

she could read her like an open book, and could tell something was definitely wrong. 

“xander,” she called out the boy next to her who was solving a 9x9 rubix cube leisurely, laying on his back with his hands up in the air. “are you seeing this? look what they’re doing to my girl avery.”

xander sat up, and watched for a few seconds. to xander, she looked how she did the first time he ever saw her: scared, uncomfortable, but trying to put on a brave face.

after just two seconds, he called out at the top of his lungs: “jamesoooonnnn.”

no response. 

max pulled xander out of the room — much to his dismay, and finally spotted jameson in one of the libraries.

she barely got a word in before jamesons eyes flickered to her phone that was still playing the interview. his brows furrowed, “you’re watching the interview too?”

“…of course i am,” she deadpanned, “i’m literally avery’s girlfriend.

xander raised a brow from beside max, and jameson and him shared a confused look. “oh… right.” jameson said as he nodded slowly. 

“yeah…!” xander added. “how could i forget?...” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes flickered between jameson and max.

“you guys are weird…” max trailed off, confused at their strange reactions, when she said something so completely normal in her opinion. 

 “but look!” she exclaimed, “she literally looks so… uncomfortable. in their right mind allowed this interviewer to have a job?” she said, as the two brothers looked at the tiny screen on her phone showing avery’s interview live. 

they quickly ditched watching it on the phone, because jameson suggested they watch it on the large tv in one of their living rooms.  

max rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounded like, “of course you’d suggest that.” but nodded anyway as the three made their way to the nearest living room. 

avery shifted in her seat slightly, her smile just a little off and strained as the interviewer asked another prying question.

“so, how does it feel to have your entire life handed to you on a silver platter- or shall i say, gold?” the audience laughed at the last line. his tone was light, but the implications were hard to miss.

avery smiled, like landon had rehearsed with her, trying to maintain her composure. 

“who the hell is this guy?” jameson scoffed, “seriously?” he stood up from the couch they were sitting on and ran a hand through his hair. 

“i wouldn’t exactly describe it that way,” she responded far too fast, so she went to correct herself— otherwise she wouldn’t her the end of it from her team. “but i’m endlessly grateful for all the opportunities i have, and for all the experiences.” she said with a smile that looked a little too sweet and practiced, that it made jameson sick.

the interviewer leaned forward, a cruel smirk on his face that made avery want to grimace. “oh?” he challenged, “so you’re saying the billion-dollar inheritance didn’t change your life overnight?”

xanders usual playful grin was gone as he muttered, “avery looks like she’s about to walk out.”

“she should.” jameson was now pacing in front of the TV, unable to stand still any longer. “if i’d been there—”

“but you’re not,” grayson said calmly, standing beside another couch that lyra was sitting on. “she’ll handle it.”

lyra had heard everyone in the room a few minutes earlier, and suggested her and grayson go see what was going on. 

jameson’s eyes focused laser sharp on the tv once again as he heard the interviewer mention his name, before turning back to look at grayson.

“she shouldn’t have to handle it, grayson.” his voice cracked with frustration.

her heart raced, but she managed a small laugh. “i think anyone’s life would change with something like that. my life has changed a great ordeal, but it’s more complicated than—”

“and what about your relationship with jameson hawthorne?” he interrupted, not caring for a single word she had to say. “was that part of the package deal?”

the live audience laughed, and avery just smiled politely, frustration flashing behind her eyes that only the people closest to her could spot.

grayson was going to say something to calm his brother down, but didn’t get the chance to. 

“oh, this guy is a fucking comedian, isn’t he?” jameson ran another frustrated hand through his hair, chuckling lowly as he exhaled. “i’m getting him fired— bankrupt for gods sake.” 

he knew how snobby-privileged-rich-kid he sounded even to his own ears, but he didn’t care. 

“yeah,” lyra chimed in, who rarely ever agreed with jameson.  “i’m with you on that one.”

jameson shook his head, letting out a blow of air that it almost sounded like a whistle, “goddamnit, i don’t care, i’m going. her team and the paparazzi can go to hell for all i care.” 

he turned off the tv, he couldn’t bear to see avery uncomfortable for another second.

nash stood leaning against the wall, sending a slight nod to jameson. “you need a ride?” he asked, alluding to the motorcycle jameson loves to use when he needs to blow off steam. 

with no complaints from nash, jameson knew that he was doing the right thing. 

he muttered something under his breath along the lines of: “too dangerous,” and shook his head. and with that, he made his way to the stairs. 

everyone shared confused glances — jameson hawthorne, saying something was too dangerous? something has seriously changed. 

“is it just me… or is jameson being weirdly responsible right now.” xander muttered as he looked at the turned off tv infront of him. 

grayson and lyra shared a look that communicated the message; ‘…he’s still not responsible.’ but didn’t say anything.

max nodded at xander in agreement. “it’s the avery effect.” she stated matter-of-factly. “i don’t know about you, but whenever i’m around her i feel like… woah, i just want to be a better person, you know?” 

xander thought about it for a moment with his hand on his chin, and then nodded ,like max had said something profound. 

he looked up at her, and then they both nodded in sync, sharing a high five. 

nash, who was still standing leaned against the wall, stifled a laugh, shaking his head in amusement before walking out of the living room. 

he was definitely going to be mentioning the “avery effect” to libby later.

— 

avery sighed as she finally got in the dressing room, leaning her head back on the door and shutting her eyes. 

she got to go home in half an hour now, finally. 

atleast she was done with that interview. 

she walked away from the door, slumping in her chair as she brought her hands to her face, looking into the large hollywood style mirror infront of her. 

she was hyper-aware of everything around her—the feeling of her clothes scratching against her skin, the way her makeup suddenly felt heavy on her face, the ache in her cheeks from smiling, and the slight tremor in her hands. 

avery re-enacted the smiles she gave throughout the interview, wondering if they looked too fake, if she needs to start tweaking them, and overthinking just about every small detail.

5 minutes had passed, and she was still staring into the mirror. 

surely this wasn’t healthy, but she stayed practicing the answers she gave, sighing in defeat when she remembered how people would take it as snappy and defensive.

god, she wouldn’t have wished that interview from hell on her worst enemy. 

her reflection started to look weird to herself, but she kept practicing the right way to smile, to not look fake.

suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and her attention was diverted from the mirror for the first time in 10 minutes. 

“yeah, come in!” she called out quietly, eyes fixated on the door, nervous to see who it was.

hair and makeup? someone from her team already there to scold her? or god forbid, the interviewer— her thoughts were all silenced when she saw pair of familiar green eyes.

“jameson,” she breathed out, “what are you doing here?” 

his hair was a tad messier than usual, and his eyes seemed panicked as he looked around the room, until they finally met hers. 

he shut the door behind him and locked it all in one swift movement and walked over to her, standing behind her chair she was sitting on. 

his hands found her shoulders, but she stood up and turned around, meeting him face to face.

“heiress,” he put his calmest voice on as his hands found their way to the sides of her face. “i was watching— we were watching the interview at home.” his eyes flickered between hers, “are you alright?”

she smiled a little, letting out an exhale. “yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” she shook her head in an attempt to portray she was confused. 

it was slightly difficult for her to act like she was perfectly fine, when she had spent the last 20 minutes doing nothing but overthink. 

he brought her out of her thoughts once again. “avery.”

“what?”

“i saw the look on your face— you may be a good bluffer, but not with your emotions. not with me, atleast.” 

unfortunately for avery, jameson could see what she was feeling when she tried her hardest to hide it, even from her own self. 

she sighed, trying to shrug it off. “jameson, it’s just one interview. they ask questions like that all the time—it’s part of the job.”

“i don’t care if it’s part of the job. you never asked for this.” his voice was hard-edged, his hands moving down her shoulders, then down to her hands. “you looked uncomfortable, avery. you shouldn’t have to be fine with that.”

“i was managing it,” she countered, tilting her head up to look at him, trying to ease the tension. “that’s what i’m supposed to do.”

her hands fiddled with his fingers with a mind of their own. it was a tell tale sign she was holding her feelings back. jameson knew it better than anyone.

“and that’s the problem.” he didn’t speak to her condescendingly, or in any way that was trying to belittle her. he was just worried. 

he simply cared, and it made avery’s heart soar. 

“they’re counting on you to just handle it every single time, like it doesn’t get to you.” his voice was low, “you shouldn’t act okay with it just because it’s easier. it’s not right.”

she wanted to prove that she was okay, that she wasn’t bothered, and that he didn’t have to worry about her, but she couldn’t, because then she’d be lying.

she let out a small sigh of defeat, “you’re right, jameson.” she shook her head, “i know… i just— i don’t want you to worry about me, or anyone to worry about me.”

“tough luck.” he replied, voice low but unwavering as his eyes searched hers. 

she opened her mouth to argue, but his hand gently brushed a stray piece of hair from her face, and the words seemed to fade.  

“its the worst thing in the world, seeing the hurt on your face. i hate it.” avery looked down, but he tilted her chin back up. “and,” he murmured, “i hate the people inferior who project their own problems onto you, because they feel like they can, even more.” 

avery couldn’t argue with the rest of what he said, but she needed to say something. 

“no one’s inferior to me.” she mumbled 

“please,” jameson said with a deep chuckle, “i could name quite a few.” he said. “for starters, that interviewer—“

avery cut jameson off with a light laugh, a sound that made jameson feel like the sun was shining down just for them two. 

his eyes flickered all around her face, his own smile growing as he committed the picture to memory. “he was the worst. am i wrong? tell me i’m wrong.” he teased, selfishly wanting more laughter out of avery because he loved it so much.

she shook her head vigorously, “no,” she laughed, “god, no. he was the worst. i hate that idiot.” 

jameson let out another one of his bigger chuckles, “keep going,” he joked, “there’s my heiress.” 

avery rolled her eyes jokingly, feeling the last of her worry fade away. “i wanted to punch him square in the face,” she said, and jameson rose his brows in amusement and nodded enthusiastically.

she continued, “but that doesn’t matter anymore, because you’re here now, and that’s more important.” 

he let out a breath, his shoulders loosing the last of their tension. “is that so?” he murmured, his hand slipping around her waist, pulling her a bit closer.

“yeah, it is.” and before he could protest or mention anything about her emotions any longer, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

he melted into her, arms wrapping around her fully, and tighter. she felt like she could stay in his arms for all eternity as she put her arms around his neck. 

the kiss was brief, reassuring, but enough to melt away the last traces of his worry.

when she pulled back, jameson was looking at her with softness in his eyes— one rarely seen by others, but always seen by her. 

his thumb brushed over her cheek, and his eyes travelled her face all over. he looked deep in thought, and avery could sense a question was stirring. 

“heiress?”

she hummed, “yes, jamie?”

“you know, i never mean to be,” he hesitated slightly, “overbearing, or controlling, i just…” he paused, pressing his lips together in a line as he racked his brain for the right words. 

“yeah, i know, jamie.” she nodded slightly with her hand brushing the sides of his face, understanding what he couldn’t verbalize.

his hand held her hand that was on his face, and moved it back down. 

both their hands were locked together now, and jameson rested his forehead on hers gently.

avery was so sure he would lean in for another kiss, perhaps one less tentative, now that she could see the tension had dissolved from his shoulders. 

she let herself relax, realizing that she stopped fidgeting with jameson’s hands a while ago. 

he brought her so much peace without even trying. she wondered if she ever did the same for him— and then jameson broke the silence. 

“i’m still getting him fired, by the way.”

avery laughed quietly, almost scoffing in amusement. she bit back her smile as she shook her head, taking a slight step back, hands still intertwined. “of course you are.”

“for you, heiress?” his cheshire grin slowly returned, reeling her back in close. he shrugged, “i’d do much worse.”

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual  @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10  @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus

[dilatorywriting]

I feel we are all super mean to the reader with Siren Vil??? Are they actually stupid or is it just that they can’t understand what’s going on? Which is kinda valid considering their situation?

I mean it has to be hard for them, right? Not only do they have trouble communicating with THEIR world since they are almost 100% deaf, but then you have the extreme cultural differences of trying to communicate with someone who exists in what is basically from a completely DIFFERENT world (part of your world reference anyone?).

I just feel like, while they may not be a genius or anything, it’s kind of mean to be expecting them to know what’s going on when they have so much working against them. We’re calling them stupid for not understanding that the necklace was a courting gift and that the siren would come back for them… why would they think that?

They could tell the necklace meant more to the siren than they thought it should have and it made the siren more friendly, but why would that equate to what is basically marriage and never leaving them behind? And the reader knows the siren wants to get back to his pod really badly. While they became friends and got attached, that wouldn’t mean he would come back to help the reader. Of course the reader is going to see a ship and try to get off of where they were marooned.

As dumb as the reader CAN be sometimes (like when they took a bite of the cooked crab without removing its shell 🤦‍♀️) I really don’t think they’re THAT stupid. They’re just… on the level of someone who was probably an uneducated kid when they snuck aboard a pirate ship and never looked back and now they’re an adult. You mentioned in one chapter I believe that Riddle taught them to read I think? Or something?

I LOVE this story, don’t get me wrong. At all. Ever. I adore it.

The fact that I’m even here hanging out on the author’s blog shows how much I love it - and your other writing. I guess it’s just been getting to me a little how we all seem to slam Siren Vil’s reader so much. Maybe I’m just making mountains out of molehills. Maybe you’re just being sarcastic and I’m missing the cues because I’m neurodivergent and I do that sometimes. If so I’m sorry.

To end on a good note, I’m really happy you’re back and are doing better. I know how much brains can suck. If your demons are too mean to you, just send Reaper Rook after them. He’ll take care of them for you, I’m sure of it! 💚🖤

I think it’s mostly said out of love, like how when you pick up a cat to give it cuddles and call it a stinky lil garbage gremlin even though you would die for that creature. The Reader in this is someone I try to write as having inconsistent levels of intelligence. Great planner, great at setting goals and reaching them, but TERRIBLE emotional intelligence all around. Not just in Siren Language. Just overall is blind to a lot going on around them. And yes, the added layer of communication difficulties certainly don’t help, but this is a reader I fully see as one who even *if* they had super sight, hearing, and intellect would still be missing the point of things simply because they’re stubborn in their perception and lock onto that One Thing rather than being willing to see the bigger picture. Even when the evidence is staring them right in the face. Which is why we lovingly call them a big ol doofus.

[heylittleriotact]

🕯️ THE RITUAL HAS BEEN COMPLETED AND I AM SUMMONED BY @emmg 🕯️

WIP ✨WHATEVER✨

I have a lot of Emmrook things in mind that I want to write (I made a list!), but I only have one brain and one dominant hand for writing, so I’m just dawdling away at my leisure.

Currently I’m working on my take on a scene that would take place directly following the end of the game because BioWare hates us and decided we don’t need any closure for our Rooks or their love interest aside from some vague ‘live, laugh, love’ bullshit epilogue slide.

Rook works their fucking ass off the entire game and is basically the emotional sponge for everyone else’s issues, pushing themselves beyond what’s healthy to see their goals through. Emmrich remarks on it on at least two separate occasions, so I think my Rook would probably find herself in a position within hours of everything concluding where her body and her mind just stand on the brakes and say, “Nope! We’re done! We cannot and will not do any more things until you take some time to recuperate!”

And who’s going to make sure that happens in the most romantic, wholesome, and slightly stern but sexy way?

Emmrich, of course 🤍

Also, I’m reverse uno-ing @emmg because I want to know what you’re cooking. LET ME INNNNNN.

I’m also tagging @allofthebarks because she said she has things she wants to write but the writing just isn’t coming, so comfort yourself in my clumsy, unedited WIP and just write A Thing. Dooooo it!!!

Veilguard End Game Spoilers Under The Cut

Cheering and accolades followed them through the ruined streets of Minrathous, and Amina took the time to ensure that no waiting hand was left unshaken, no hug went unreturned, and no condolence went unoffered. It took them nearly two hours to make their way to a damaged but still structurally sound estate secured for them by the Shadow Dragons but as far as she was concerned, it was time well spent.

As the ornate doors of the manor closed behind them and the cacophony of their victory was muffled, Amina took two steps into the manor, bent at the waist, and splattered the floor with the contents of her stomach.

Emmrich was on her in an instant, holding her long black hair aside with one hand and stroking comforting circles on her back with another.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” Taash demanded, taking a step forward. Her voice was distant - drowned out by the screeching whine in Amina’s ears.

She felt her legs wobble and give way, her armoured knees colliding roughly with the ground as she threw out a hand to steady herself, not caring that it landed right in her sick: everything was too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too… real. It felt like she was being driven out of her own body like a wayward spirit, her essence clinging desperately to whatever it could hold onto to tether her here.

Just as distantly, Amina could hear Emmrich respond to Taash but his words were lost on her as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and lurched clumsily to her feet.

“Harding - I need to go to her mother—“ Her voice broke: she hadn’t had time. None of them had had time to tell her mother about Harding’s death before Elgar’nan forced their hand.

She clenched her teeth at the sensation of hot tears cutting through the accumulation of grime and gore and sweat on her face, snarling defiantly through the deluge of agony crashing through her… breaking her from the inside.

There’s still work to be done…

She was pulling away from Emmrich, her course uncharted but steadfast: she needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as she was doing something… as long as she was helping. But no matter how she pulled and tugged, he wouldn’t let her go: lithe as Emmrich was, he wasn’t weak by any stretch.

With some effort he managed to put himself in front of her, gold rings clinking against silverite where he gripped her shoulders before pulling her tight against him.

“Breathe, darling.” He instructed, enshrouding her diminutive frame in his own. “I need you to breathe… can you do that for me?”

She managed an anguished sob in reply but nothing more: any attempt to draw breath was met with unforgiving resistance as her airways slammed shut in seeming rebellion of life itself.

Arrangements need to be made - things need to be taken care of, and I’m the only one left to take care of them.

No. First I need to breathe.

“I’ve got you: you’re safe with me.”

More tears rolled down her cheeks as her eyes clenched shut and she forced a thin, ragged inhalation into her lungs.

“Well done, darling.” Emmrich encouraged, ever calm, ever heartening. “Now let’s try for another one, shall we? I’ll do it with you. Let out your breath on the count of three: one… two… three…”

She felt Emmrich contract against her as he slowly exhaled with her. None of this was new to her: Nevarran breathing techniques were required learning for Watchers. Claustrophobia could present unpredictably, and if one found themselves turned around or overwhelmed in the Necropolis, being able to stay calm was vital to survival.

“Perfect. Now another breath in…” He waited while Amina drew another shaky breath then loosened his hold on her to gently cup her cheek. Within moments she could feel the familiar soothing tingle of Emmrich’s magic coursing intimately through her, seeping through her nervous system and providing some relief.

“Emmrich,” she rasped, clutching at his chest. “I… I need to—“

“Do absolutely nothing.” He interjected sternly, his voice absent of any playful familiarity or scholarly flair, though it softened almost reflexively as he continued. “You’ve overextended yourself, Amina. You’ve been overextended for some time, but you pushed through to see this to the end - and you have - but my love, you can’t evade the reality of what you’ve been through indefinitely… you need to rest and take time to come to terms with things.” He drew his thumb over her cheek, speaking to her like she was the only person in the room.

“But—“

“All that needs to be attended will be seen to: Lace’s mother will be informed of her sacrifice in an appropriate manner, and the… actions of the Inquisitor will be communicated to the south.” He hung on the word ‘actions’ seemingly unsure of its accuracy but ultimately too focused on Amina to care.

She opened her mouth to argue, but likely having anticipated this from her, Emmrich spoke first.

“You’ve done so much and helped so many without asking for anything in return… please let me be the one to help you in your moment of need?”

His eyes searched hers, soft and pleading, and she studied the face of the man she loved: each pleasing curve and angle that she had committed to memory etched on her heart. The crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes, and the creases around his familiar mouth spoke of years of smiles offered to comfort and soothe.

He was filthy too, and his hair was limp and disheveled, strands of it hanging into his face… but oh Maker how she loved him…

“I love you…” He whispered for her ears alone, his lips ghosting over hers. “And I so look forward to reminding you of that fact every day for the rest of our lives��� so let me begin now: let me take care of you.”

[bestangelofall]

I think both possibilities are interesting regarding what you can do with his character in this AU. World building wise, I love the lack of Daemon for resurrected people, because it leads into the idea of there being a price for the resurrection, and the possible stigma that people who came back to life would face.

Applying this to Jason specifically, would he be seen as less than by Bruce? As soulless? Would a Daemonless Jason be a reason to justify all the victim blaming, to justify all the other things Bruce does after Jason's resurrection? For example, the ending of UtH, or Gotham War, could be put as not being "that bad" because in Bruce's eyes Jason wouldn't be a complete person, and a part of him is forever lost.

I love that idea, but, as per HDM lore, to lose the connection with the Daemon is to lose the soul (at least in the case of the children which were cut), so I prefer the idea that the Daemon also comes back after resurrection. Maybe "come back" isn't even the right word, because when Lyra went to the Land of the Dead in The Amber Spyglass, Pantalaimon was left behind. Of course, Jason stayed dead for months, so maybe in this AU the daemon actually died.

I haven't read The Secret Commonwealth, but I do know that it addresses the aftermath of Lyra and Pan's separation, and that is that things between them aren't the same anymore, and they never will be. Of course, in Lyra's case, she willingly left Pan behind, which would be very different from Jason being murdered, but dying would still be a sudden and violent change, so I think that the same irreversibility would be reasonable here.

If Jason's death was wrong to be corrected (by Superboy Prime), it would make sense that his Daemon would be left behind while Jason went to the Land of the Dead.

Here we can have the option of continued separation after Jason crawls out of his grave, and that it contributes to his catatonic state, and maybe the Lazarus Pit has a role in helping with that (maybe it "reconnects" the bond, but not even the Pit can heal it totally, and there will always be a scar 🤔). I'm not so sure on this part, but it's an idea...

Anyway, Jason and his Daemon start early on not really feeling that separation as much as one would initially assume. They are both very motivated by the same goals, they both love Bruce very much but need to see proof of reciprocation, and most importantly, they both understand that what happened wasn't their fault.

However, as the time passes, and as other people treat Jason the way they do (and now I lean more into Rebirth Sad Jason) that disconnect that results from the separation during his death starts to show. The Daemon stands her ground, being the part of Jason that remains sure that they were good, that they didn't deserve what happened, and that it wasn't their fault - they were tricked by Sheila (and her Daemon) and still tried their best to save them.

Jason, however, after having been told time and again by Bruce & others that he screwed up, started to believe that, because if it was his/their fault, then all he needs to do is to be better, it's not something out of his control. It hurts less. And because of this subject, the discord between him and his Daemon is born and intensifies, and things get ugly. Rebirth Jason has the self-esteem of a wet paper bag, and fights with his Daemon constantly because she wants to impose boundaries to others, while he sees her as an obstacle for reconciliation with Bruce/Dick/maybe Babs/Alfred (btw, his Daemon fucking hates Alfred).

We see in HDM Mrs. Coulter acting on her self-hatred in the form of Daemon abuse which constitutes self-harm. I think Jason would do that too :/

I probably could talk more about this, but this is already a wall of text.

So like in a Daemon au do you think Jason's Daemon would be resurrected with him or do you think you can tell if someone has been resurrected by their lack of Daemon

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ you shook me

pairing: college student!seungmin kim x f!reader

genre: one-shot, university au, smut

word count: 9K

warnings: student! and teacher! ⋆ switch!seungmin and switch!reader ⋆ choking! ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ small!age gap ⋆ jealousy ⋆ possessiveness ⋆ fingering (f.receiving) ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ cowgirl!position ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: you were captivating, you were in his mind and his soul, taking a bite of it each time you would glance his way, you shouldn’t excite him, you shouldn’t enjoy getting under his skin, it was so wrong…so wrong that it felt good

author’s note: he wants that cookie so bad

request by @khandzilla

──────────────────────

He thinks, he has a problem and you are it. You are haunting him and it seems like you have under a spell. You are so collected, so put together, it makes him feel dirty to have these thoughts about you. You are supposed to be a person to look up to, idol in his life, not his only thing that he wants to have. You are teaching him what to do, but he can’t hear — see anything other than you. Your words are soothing, yet strong, but he can’t do it. He wants to do good, think good for himself mostly as these years are the most important ones in his life, but it seems like it stopped the moment you walked into the room.

Your body clad in fitted skirt and blouse, the click of your heels silencing whatever noise was being made in the lecture hall. He wasn’t the only one. How could he? You are perfect — an intelligent and well behaved woman that knows the power of her own words. You are so good…in a sense of teaching of course. The way you never stumbled over your words, the time you took while thinking over the question the other students around him asked…he felt sick. Maybe it’s the hormones, natural urges that keep filling his mind with filthy, filthy things.

He kept it to himself mostly, but he remembers every one of your outfits. So elegant and unrevealing it made him lose his mind. You weren’t showing anything, other than your stocking clad legs when you would wear a skirt. Those girls in his class looked primitive next to you, so not put together, still figuring things out and that’s maybe why he liked you so much. You were a woman, a little older, yet still fresh. You always held your head high, but you never were prideful. You were a natural, seductive and he wishes you would claw your burgundy nails into his scalp, so you could see what exactly it is on his mind while he is attending your class.

It really angers him that a simple pencil skirt and a fitted sweater make him so dazed. He swears that he shivered when he saw the red bottoms of your shoes, his favorite, because they perfectly showcased your success in life. You were unreachable, untouchable. The worst part was that you never acknowledged him that much. Just few glances, always making sure to rise his hand high when you were making attendance. You were so good in what you did, teaching, listening. He remembers the time, when he saw his name in your handwriting while you were giving back tests to the other students. He forgot to even write his own name down, too caught up in your pursed lips while you were going over some papers. His name in your neat handwriting never looked better.

It is so unfair — looking like that and also being so unforgiving. His eyes are staring at the paper in his hands, bright red marks all over the whole page. He sometimes wonders if you get pleasure from giving these tests every two weeks. It was for a greater good, you were just making sure that everyone knew what was going on, but this one — this test was the most important one and he didn’t score high…he never did. He wants to say it is because of you, but it is mostly, because of his own mind.

Sighing, his hand runs through his hair, shaking his head at his own stupidity. He feels his friend leaning over his shoulder, a low whistle blowing against his cheek. “That’s not good.” Says, the long haired blonde, making him look at his paper and not to his surprise he did better than him.

His eyes go briefly to you, but his vision is blocked by a bunch of student who are already making their way out of the auditorium to their next class. He always likes to stay a little behind, because it gets stuffy sometimes and mostly he just likes to wait for you to possibly bump into you…on an accident. However like all those times you are way too quick for him, already packing up your things and putting them back into your worn out luxury bag, it only highlights the distended between you two. How could you do this to him? No, how could he do this to himself?

His hand stills in his short, black hair, fingers a little sticky from gel, nails digging into his head. “I just keep getting distracted—“ He mumbles to himself, though his friend catches it quickly.

“I get it — because look-“ Felix gestures to you just as you put your bag over your shoulder. “How can you pay attention with a thing like that.”

He wants to ignore his friend’s words, but it is the truth. You are so distracting and you don’t even do it on purpose, it’s all him. “I’m gonna ask for a redo.” He sighs out, finally moving to put his things away. The blonde immediately smacks his lips, shaking his head at his statement.

“I don’t know, man. She’s kind of strict, doesn’t give second chances.”

Trailing his eyes over your slowly distancing figure, his lips lift up slightly into a smile. “Watch me—“ Standing up, Felix only raises his hands in a shudder, letting him do whatever he wants.

He wished that he could, so many things. He ignores how his heart beats just a bit faster at the thought of talking to you alone. You always spend your small break in your office — was he distracted by you that much? In every other class he thinks he does a pretty decent job, every class other than yours. And yours was to his luck the most important one. He wonders what you looked like in his years, what kind of student you were. A nerd or a party girl? No, you are too uptight for that in some way and it only reminds him the difference between you and him.

The corridor is quiet, other than the few distant voices behind the close doors he passes by. The clicks of a clock makes him count just how much time he spends thinking through his words. You are not strict, you are just great at your job, but he needs just one more chance to prove you that he is somehow the same as you. He could never be as smart as you, but he wants you think of him — think of him. His feet drags him to the door of your office, black, cursive of your name and titles glaring at him. Even just staring at the door, he can feel your energy. Knocking on the door, his hand shakes a little when he hears an immediate ‘come in’, your voice piercing through him.

Your office is a perfect reflection of you — dark, put together, but somehow screaming. Your figure is sat behind your desk placed in the middle of the room, those glasses you sometimes wore on the end of your nose, eyes staring through the lenses right at him. You look like a liquid sex to him, so naturally alluring he has to wonder if you are a siren in disguise. You are definitely leading him slowly to his end, to you. You lick your brown, matte lips, straightening your back and making your breast press against your sweater that perfectly outlines your curves. “Seungmin…here because of your test I presume?” You can read him like a book.

Nodding, he exhales through his nose by hearing his name coming from your luscious lips. Of course you know his name, you have everything memorized, but still the excitement rising in his chest is immense. He is still standing in the same spot. However you are calling to him to come closer, but he thinks if he did, he would do something really stupid. “Yeah…why did I get such a low score?” Seungmin knows why, because the reason is right in front of him. He feels stupid to even ask such question.

You drink in his frozen state, tilting your head just a little at his words. “In the test, I asked all of you to include both your explanations and the sources where you found these answers in the books I assigned you to read — and you didn’t do that.” You keep your voice low, almost sounding like you were scolding him, but he doesn’t seem to picked it up.

Seungmin points at his head, long index finger pressing into his temple. “Here’s my citations—“ Your lips pull into a smile of amusement, the move making his already raised eyebrows hit his hairline.

“It doesn’t work like that, every information comes from somewhere and you knew before hand.” He enjoys your attention that you are giving him right now, but the tone you use makes him embarrassed. “Next time keep that in mind.”

You end the discussion very quickly and when you turn back to your papers, he feels himself taking a little step closer to you. It does make you glance back at him, raising an challenging eyebrow at him. He is getting desperate. “Isn’t there a way I can redo it or something? Please—“ You wonder if he realizes how much his voice got whiny at the end. You almost coo at him, but the way his face scrunches up in frustration, makes you think twice about your decision.

A short, but heavy silence spreads around the room as your unmoving stare stay at his fidgeting figure. “No.” Is your answer firstly and you take a short breath to gather your thoughts, while his shoulder start to fall in disappointment. “I do not except redos, but you can write an essay regarding this topic.” A big wave of relief washes over him, already nodding his head at your request. His enthusiasm does quiver a little at your next words. “You have till Friday.”

“But that’s like in four days—“

You don’t even shrug at him, already going back to your work, but you do hold yourself not to correct his tone with you. Seungmin should feel greatful, but you still had to make it difficult for him. You know about how tight his schedule is, but that really isn’t your problem. You dismiss him by just a quick wave of your hand, flashing your long, manicured nails at him. He watches you for a second longer, before he walks out of your office, releasing a long sigh. He already is starting to feel tired, because he knows he has to do his best in such short amount of time. However he realizes that you have given him something that you have never given before — a second chance.

────

Seungmin’s eyes were droopy, head pounding, dark circles under his eyelashes. He spend these past few days working and working and for a short while you were put into the back of his mind. He had to do good to secure his grade and the memory of your disapproving face made him work even harder. While writing, trying to get every information that was supposed to be in his head already, it in his exhausted state felt like you were looming over his shoulder. Like a phantom, he can’t lie — there wasn’t a minute that he didn’t think of you while working on the paper.

Something that helped him keep his head high was his friend’s facial expression when he told him how you did give him a second chance to prove himself, though the tiredness around his eyes wasn’t unseen. When Thursday came around Seungmin couldn’t take it anymore. He knew that he was too tired to even pay attention, so was it even necessary to be in school anymore? It was the last lecture of the day and he already had a plan to just skip the next day to finish his work. However even in his hazy state, he wouldn’t be able to make up what he saw when he left the room.

The soft click of the door shutting behind him was quiet, hallway usually filled with students now empty other than your standing figure and the other. Professor Bahng was chatting with you, awfully close to you, the pointed tips of your shoes slightly touching his polished ones. You were smiling…he has never seen you so bright before. Your voice was soft as ever and your eyes strained on the man before you, not even catching his presence. He still made his moves minimal, just not to be caught, but even if he tried really hard, he couldn’t hear anything of the conversation. Seungmin couldn’t fight the jealousy from seeing you being so close to someone and when he saw Professor Bahng’s hand rubbing softly at your arm, he had to sneer.

Gritting his teeth, he almost bites his tongue at those shared secret whisper between you two. You were too out of his league, even if Professor Bahng was successful as well he could never handle you. In Seungmin’s eyes no one could possibly deserve such an amazing woman like you, but he himself could try, he thinks. Your painted lips stretched into a smile, mirroring the man before you, before you with a small flip of your hair turn around to walk the opposite way. The man stood in his spot for a minute longer, watching you walk away and Seungmin is sure that he was looking at your ass with that big, stupid smile on his face.

The glare on his face is hard, eyes moving from you to Professor Bahng who walked pass him, not even acknowledging him. In some way, one side of him didn’t want to know what you two were talking about and the other almost made him kick his Professor’s feet so he would fall face first, hopefully wiping that stupid smile off his face. He didn’t of course, too blinded by the waves of different emotions to be able to do anything.

This small encounter made it a bit harder for him to focus, but with the last bits of strength he had left, he made it. When Seungmin send you the email with his work, he felt proud, but still just a little anxious about what you might think of it. He knows that you like to keep your work organized, he knows how quick you are with everything, he knows from the other students how you would always answer in a record time, but…you didn’t. Maybe it was the hour he send it at, but something is telling him that you are basically glued to atleast one device. You were everywhere, but now, it was like you disappeared. He knows it’s nonsense, but you not responding made him rightfully nervous. He kept refreshing his email, but nothing. He couldn’t sleep, whole saturday ruined for him, because he just couldn’t even breathe without your answer. So it made him do a very stupid thing…

A simple knock was all that it took, the noise was loud to his ears, making him snap back into reality. He can’t fight against his own thoughts anymore. This is all inappropriate, borderline creepy of him to do and when you open the door, your face full of surprise, it makes him think of all possible consequences. Your hand is around the door handle, air getting slightly knocked out of your lungs, but you quickly find your composure. You stare in shock at the man before you, eyes going up and down his lean body.

“Seungmin…” You don’t know what to say for a second and by that he slowly starts to regret showing up at your house. “What are you doing here?” You are a little alarmed by his presence and appearance, but by the look on his face it seems like he is surprised himself.

“You didn’t reply to my email.” The words fly out of his mouth, gasping almost.

Your lips parted, body invisible behind the slightly open door to your home. Big red warning sign blares in your head, though your curiosity is taking over. You are rarely surprised by something, someone and him showing up at your doorstep did make you almost double over. His question, more like a statement, hangs heavy in the air and the small hidden meaning behind it is obvious to both of you. You should feel creeped out, maybe frightened, yet excitement rumbles in your tummy. “I was busy…” You trail off, going back to your almost monotone voice, leg just barely peaking out of door. The movement makes his eyes travel down briefly to your stocking clad leg, but it is hidden again quite quickly, atleast he can still see your face. “How did you know where I live?” You finally ask, red painted lips slowly moving around your words.

Seungmin shrugs a little, trying so hard to play it cool. The truth is that finding out where you live was rather easy and he wished that he knew it sooner. “Felix told me.” His answer makes your features form into realization, eyes going briefly behind him to look into the direction of the small house few minutes away from yours.

“Of course…” You mumble lowly, squinting your eyes at him in the darkness. He is for sure bold to show up like this, unannounced, it’s highly inappropriate — that’s the only word that can summon up this whole situation.

When he sees you closing the door a little at his answer, he immediately puts his foot in the small gap left in the doorway, preventing you from closing the door. “No, wait!” There’s a big desperation in his voice and the looks shared with you are slowly turning into something way more different than before. You should scream at him, at least look a little angered, but you are still as ever. You only look at him, blinking slowly and he at that notices your dark eyeshadow, perfectly outlining your siren eyes. “Please, Miss can you look at it? It won’t take long, I promise—“

There’s a shift in the air. Your stare is hard and piercing. Seungmin thinks that he just dug up his own grave by being so disrespectful and maybe he should have just waited for you to answer a little longer, but the waiting is already eating him up. You don’t say anything, but as you open the door wider that is the only answer he needed. However no relief washes over him, on the other hand, cold sweat starts to gather at his hairline when you let him see you fully.

He has never seen you without your so called uniform, but this…he wonders if these kinds of clothes are just permanently glued to your figure. Your usual skirt however is shorter, ending just at the middle of your yummy thighs that are pushed together as you twirl around. It is like you want to show yourself off to him, a large lump forming at the back of his throat, because he knows that if you would bend over he would see everything. You let him get a short glimpse of your overly tight blouse, few buttons undone at the top. Not to mention your darker make up and pulled up hair — he doesn’t regret coming at this late hour to your house at all anymore.

Stepping in your home he gets a whiff of you, the strong, spicy, yet sweet scent you always wear. He is shaking inside, when he closes the door to your house behind him, leaving you all to himself. One thing that is definitely the most inappropriate is your outfit. He just can’t get over it and he drinks up the view of your naturally swinging hips, leading him further inside your clay home.

Seungmin almost trips over his own feet, while taking his boots off, not wanting to disturb your perfectly polished floor. Following the sounds of your heels clicking, he wonders what exactly got you all dressed up at this late hour. There’s no way you actually prefer staying in your work clothes, nor wearing these high shoes in your house. When you lead him through the small corridor to your lightly lit living room, he sees a coat thrown over the couch, your handbag laying on your black coffee table.

“Do you—“ Seungmin trails off, following you with his eyes as you stop at a small desk with a computer. You do take your work home in some way. “Have any plans…Professor?” Watching you pull out a chair for yourself to sit at the table, you finally look at him. How are you so good at making him feel so unseen, while also making him completely drunk of your presence alone?

There is a subtle smirk on your face, that he thinks is only imaginary, when you turn to your computer, your hand under your chin blocking his view. “That doesn’t concern you.” Your voice sounds unbothered by his small prying, but it still pokes at his heart.

“Just trying to make a conversation.” Seungmin says, though he starts to grow concerned about what you might be doing after you dismiss him. All dolled up, surely it’s not only for yourself. His own thoughts are soon answered, just as he goes around your couch closer to you.

You click away on the screen, watching him by the corner of your eye how he goes to sit at the edge of your grey cushion couch and he almost falls backwards with your next words. “Yes…I’m going on a date.” You say it so smoothly and unbothered, while he on the other hand freezes in his seat.

His worries were just confirmed. His hands form into fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands. The raging jealousy fills his field of vision and if you would turn your head to glance back at him, you would see it in his eyes. Were you surprised by him, just because you were expecting someone else? Someone else to talk to you, listen to your voice — touch you? It’s sick, you are older than him, you have the whole right to go out and have fun, then why does he feel so absolutely betrayed. His lips are set into thin line, stare unmoving from you and he already forgot about what is and what is not appropriate. Well, he was just trying to make a conversation…

“With whom?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, tasting your lip gloss. Your fingers move across the mouse, eyes going over the text before you. He is so easy…you have to bite down at your tongue. Your small silence is making him shake and you thrive in it, enjoying it a little too much. Your eyes, body is facing the computer, eyes flying over his work like you haven’t already read it, however he has your full attention. You feel Seungmin’s eyes on your lips, watching you release your bottom lip from your mouth. “Professor Bahng.” Your lips move slowly, tongue rolling and with his eyes, he sees the answer before he hears it.

Heavy coat of rage falls over him, suffocating him with such jealousy he has to hold himself back. The fact that what he saw in the hallway really was something more than just a friendly conversation is making his blood boil. You were smiling at him, agreeing to go to dinner at such a late hour. It is obvious why, but he just doesn’t want to imagine his filthy hands and mouth all over you. “Mr. Bahng? He is like forty!” His voice is loud, but he doesn’t really care about his behavior.

You click your tongue at him, tilting your head into his direction and flashing your glimmering eyes at his fidgeting figure. “And? Age is just a number.” You are inviting him in, with your change of expression and posture. Was his mind already playing tricks on him or were your words laced with a deeper meaning?

Seungmin trails his eyes over you, but you don’t tell him enough to know that he isn’t imagining it. Are you flirting? Maybe it’s just you, he knows that even a simple word from you makes him shake. He hates it, just as much as he loves it. “Maybe it is…” You look back at him briefly, but you don’t give him much of your attention. You are making him go crazy with your unbothered behavior, you for sure have to know the power you have over him. “But you realize that he just wants to fuck you, right?” The words flew out of his mouth so fast, he almost cringed, but to his surprise you don’t scold him.

You actually laugh, the sound short yet real and he melts into the material of your couch. “Yes, I am aware — that’s why I’m going.” Of course his own cheerful demeanor doesn’t last long, because you just love to play with his emotions. The fact you are letting him use such language, letting him in your own personal life is big for him. He thought you would be more careful about what you say, but when you let him in your home, something changed about you. You are no different, still somewhat cold and collected, but with this light burning in your eyes.

“So…you are really just looking for a booty call, Professor?” Humming, he finds it hard to keep it together. His words are not meant to disrespect you, but they are still really, really bold. Such a question to ask your teacher…The whole situation, how you are letting him talk to you like this, made him for a second forget about his jealousy, because you look very much unmoved by the fact that you were getting ready to get bend over. Seungmin feels spit gathering in his mouth at the thought. Your hair pulled back by his hand, makeup smeared across your face, drool running down your cheek — he really is done for. “I thought, you were not the type.” You do look like a proper lady on the outside and with you being his mentor it shouldn’t bother him what your preferred way of having sex was. You are however captivating, he just can’t help himself. He lost the control over his whole body moments ago.

Your clicking stopped a long ago too, just staring blankly at the last passage of his essay, reading the same sentence over and over again. Looking back at him, you think about what to say next. You want to play with him a bit more, maybe embarrass him, but that seems unlikely. Seungmin never once was truly embarrassed by the choice of his words. Even if he looked spooked a little by his own statements, he still was confident and stood by what he said. Maybe he is just lying to you and to himself. His lean body is hovering a little over you, even if you are sitting a little far away from him, but you both know you has the real power here.

You let your own curiosity win again, putting your hands before you on the table and the subtle push of your breast is instantly noticed by him. “What type did you think I was?” Pursing your red lips, your hair falls slightly into your eyes, but you still see the small flash of bashfulness in him.

Shrugging, he tries hard not to tremble at your stare. “I thought you would be already dating someone...” He swallows the lump in his throat, even though he looks quite collected, it’s like you can still see right through him. You watch him closely, how he swings forward and then backwards in his seat, like he will jump into your direction at any moment. He looks a little lost in thought — well, lost in your cleavage. “Also…I think you need something more than a quick fuck—“

You can’t lie that you didn’t look forward to your little date, but it was more of a conference with a promise fling right after. You also can’t lie that Professor Bahng isn’t attractive and yummy in his round glasses, but you are not too into him. The young man before you is basically offering, but still subtly. Your crossed legs tighten around each other a little, you can’t play blind for that much longer. “Language, Seungmin. You are in my house.” You warn him, but the small smirk on your lips is telling him that it doesn’t mean much. “Besides…everyone has needs that they need to fulfill, even if it’s not in a preferred way.” The light coming from the screen of your computer reflects in your glasses, so he is unable to see your small awaiting look.

Seungmin does make you look at him again as he sits up, putting his hands in his pockets. It seems like you are always waiting for something. He loves your mature tone that you always use, even when you have a smile on your face. Your sultry voice is taking over his body quickly and he has to make fists in his pockets to hide it. He shouldn’t feel so hopeful after hearing you say that you are single. He is naturally surprised, but also not — you are a maneater. “You are saying there’s no one?” He voices out his words slowly, emphasizing on that one specific word. He loves having your attention, even when you would get quiet, he is drowning in your aura. He is already shaking with the possibility that is growing right in front of him. He has to remind himself that maybe you are actually the one making a friendly conversation — but then why are you letting him take a few steps closer after his statement.

You look up at him a little, eyes glaring at him through your glasses. He is already closer than ever before, even back in your office, even when you opened the door for him. He never really realized the distance between you two til now — till now when there is almost none. Your voice stops him from leaning on the table, standing before you with eyes staring right into your open shirt. “Your work…it’s good.” You say, looking between him and the screen. “Atleast from what I’m reading—“ You are not necessarily denying that his other passages are not good, you just can’t help yourself.

The fact that he went to your house mainly because of his essay is long forgotten, but he still feels relief wash over him. “Thank you.” Both of your voices get quieter and it’s chilling. The tension can’t be ignored anymore, he knows you feel it too, there’s no way you don’t.

His brown eyes travel over your body, at your pushed up breast and then your legs. The skirt you are wearing is almost at your waist, because of your crossed legs. Even in the dark he can see your muscles spasming just how tight they are pressed against each other. Seungmin mouth is dry, when he looks back at you. You are battling your eyelashes, your pretty, glossy lips looking good enough to eat. He doesn’t hold back anymore, it’s now all clear to him — you want him to make the first move.

You are still sitting in your spot, when he walks around the table to stop right at the corner. He is still leaving some space between you two and he swears your breathing started to got a little faster. This is all becoming so difficult for him and even you — why does the most forbidden things taste the most delicious? You have him wrapped around your pretty little finger. The smile you are wearing is anything, but innocent and the way you twirl around to face him fully is making it hard for him to even breathe. Seungmin leans closer to you, hands still in his pockets and he has to wonder if you can tell why exactly he is doing that. “Are you still going on that date?” He asks and he somehow knows that even this thing and marking his work already flew over both yours heads.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You think something changed my mind?” Your eyes are droopy, tilting your head at him. He has to laugh drily, because you are starting to drive him mad with your tactics.

“Fuck — stop playing with me…” The smile disappears from your lips, but you don’t look any moved, on the other hand you look even more amused. There is something about how you shuffle a little lower on your chair that really sets him off.

You really are just playing with him and he lets you regardless, however he has enough of it. Your breathing is heavier, lips parted, while he watches you uncross your legs. His hovering body over yours didn’t make him feel like was the one above things. Seungmin gasps softly at the sight of your inner thighs, skin still covered by your black stockings, the dark material masking everything to his displeasure. He truly is the one who made the first move, but you make the first touch — with your leg outstretched, you poke at his thigh, heel perfectly piercing his hand in his pocket.

The move makes his knees buckle, sweat gathering at his hairline when you lay your foot flat, pushing right into his bulge. You swear you can feel him pulsating under you. The one prominent vein pressing against the thin skin of his neck is telling you all that you need to know. He’s been hard since the moment he saw your mini skirt, his cock leaking and making an absolute mess. The groan that leaves him is loud, cutting through the thick air in the room. His eyes momentarily close at the relief, cock jumping from your touch, but when he looks back at you, it makes you stop.

Your leg falls down, your touch leaving him way too quickly. Your movements made your skirt just barely graze your upper thighs and he knows if you would open your legs, he would see your soaked cunt. In his hazy state, he has to stabilize himself with a hand on the table, so close to yours. You smack your lips together, him following your eyes that are staring right at the prominent imprint of his cock. “Well, look at you…” Your voice is breathy, feeling your arousal coat your skin from the sight of the dark spot on his pants.

He is trying to catch his breath, fidgeting in his spot and he is using all his might not to touch you without your permission. “I will make you feel good, better than him…I promise, I will not stop till you say so—“ He just barely leans forward, but you stop him with your leg again, now heel digging at his stomach preventing him from coming closer to you, but it is enough to catch a whiff of your perfume.

You are shaking inside from the look on his face. His usual styled hair is fluffy, soft looking and you can’t wait to run your hands through those strands. “You boys, think you will have a woman at your mercy with a small promise?” His eyes close for a second at your tone, knees buckling under him.

“Please, let me…please…” He hates how much control you have over him, but he soon will realize how much it is the opposite. If it meant to finally feel you, oh he will even beg…

You smile at his whine voice, leg moving up and down his lower tummy, heel catching at his belt. “Never thought you would be the type to beg, Seungmin, but it does look good on you—“

Shaking his head, his gaze is slightly hidden behind by his short hair, but it still feels intense as ever. “I can be anything you want, need…” Seungmin is getting desperate, looking like a hurt puppy, but still like a man that is willing to do anything to please a woman.

There’s so much that a person wants, but you want only one, simple thing. “I just want it to be you.” You say, voice clear and letting him hear the permission he so desperately needed.

His legs are already weak, so when he falls to his knees before you, it feels like the only right thing to do. His move makes you gasp softly, leg that was once on his stomach now on his shoulder, but still your legs are closed. “You won’t say anything—“ You say it like a demand, but there is a genuine concern in your voice. This is all so wrong, being attracted to each other — so forbidden. “You don’t want me to lose my job, do you?” The risks you are taking are high, he knows that and he is more than willing to take this whole interaction to his grave.

Seungmin shakes his head, the risk of getting caught is awfully arousing to him in some way. He would do anything to show your date just how much you love someone younger taking over you. He watches you slowly part your legs, the soft light of the room, making your basically uncovered pussy glisten. His mouth falls open at the sight, nothing other than the thin material of your stockings is his way. “Fuck…no way you were going to walk out like that.” He sees your eyes darting away from him and his cock jumps at the small move. You are both gasping when his hands travel up your legs, nails creating tears in your stockings and you don’t feel even a little frustrated. His hands are hot, warming you up and making you melt under him. His long fingers stop at your pubic bone, eyes meeting, just as he tears the middle part of your stockings.

A groan leaves him, mixing with your sharp gasp at his action. His eyes are drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt, left hand that is wrapped around your leg digging into your skin. “He could never deserve you.” With his words his mouth stays open, leaning closer to your center and the only thing that stops him before he could lick a long stripe up your folds is your hand his hair.

“You think you do?” There’s a genuine smile on your lips, feeling you play with the short strands of his hair.

“I’ll work for it.”

With that said he leans to catch the skin of your inner thigh into his mouth. The material of your stockings is tearing around his teeth that nibble at you. You sigh in pleasure, head rolling back as he makes his way up your leg, right to your cunt. You feel your juices sliding down your ass, creating a pool under you and he can’t help but grab his covered cock. He is making a mess just like you and he doesn’t waste any time, finally licking at you and moaning at your raw taste.

Seungmin is pent up and just as much he wants to make you feel good, he wants to make you tremble in the same way you do with him. His muscle lays flat against you, running it over your hole, lips, before stopping at your twitching clit. The soft sounds you make are like honey to his ears, making him slurp all of your sweetness into his mouth. The nasty sounds are making you moan louder, tugging at his soft hair, just as moves his tongue from side to side over your bud.

“Seungmin…” He moans with you, watching just as your head rolls back to meet his gaze. He wants to take his time with you, but seeing your glassy eyes is too much for him. “Oh!” You hum in pleasure when his fingers follow the sticky trail left by his tongue.

His rings click against each other, middle and ring finger circling around your hole. For a woman that made him fall to his knees, you sure are becoming a complete whimpering mess. Your glasses are falling from you nose, red lipstick a little faded from your nonsense biting at your lips. His neck is hurting a little from this position, but the pain is all worth it with the whorish moan you let out when he finally slides his fingers into you.

You are warm, dripping, sucking his digits right in and he can’t wait to fuck you on his cock. He needs it, you have to let him fuck you — he has to prove it you. His fingers curl up, scissoring and trying to find that one spot that makes you shake. He can feel your nerve endings pulsating in your clit as he wraps his lips around it, sucking just right, making you slide down your seat. You help him with his neck pain by putting your leg onto the table, pushing your hips up and he doesn’t even move away from you as you change your position.

His mouth is glued to you, fingers fidgeting till he hear a soft whimper, as his fingertips press against the squishy softness inside you. Your nails dig into his scalp, rutting against him, when he starts to quicken his movements. Your mouth is open, eyebrows furrowed, completely impressed by how good he is at reading your body. “Keep going — just like that, fuck!” He never heard you talk so loud and your curse is echoed, when he feels your walls contract around him.

Seungmin is letting his spit mix with your pleasures, drooling all over you. Your erratic movements are making him dizzy, eyes unmoving from you. He is so lost in you, he literally nibbles at your mound and to his surprise you only pull him closer to you. The squelching noises coming from your cunt every time he would move his fingers is making him ache, his other hand palming at his rock hard cock. A drunk smile spreads across his face when with a particular suck at your abused clit he hears you moan wildly.

You are so close, tasting your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. His fingers are in you so deep, fucking you with them so hard that you feel them in your throat. When a small whimper leaves him, your leg falls down off the table, ass lifting from your seat, your trembling legs wrapping around his head. The sound of your moans is slightly muffled by your thighs, but thankfully he still sees how your eyes rolls into the back of your head. He feels how your pussy tightens around his fingers, how your clit jumps between his lips and he has to take his hand off himself not to cum with you.

Your release coats his face, your legs and the hand in his hair pushes his nose right into you and he just takes it. You are shaking in your seat, moan getting caught in your throat at the waves of undying pleasure. You can’t get enough of it however. Your walls are sucking his fingers deeper, almost reaching your cervix and when your legs fall from his red, ringing ears, it’s clear than you are yet not done with him.

Your hand tugs at his hair, his mouth leaving you with a pop, heavy breaths tickling your soaked center. The look on your face is pure ecstasy, your hair messy, glasses fogged up. You glance at each other for a second longer trying to catch your breath, but then you abruptly stand up on your shaking legs, him slightly helping you find your balance with his hands digging into your thighs. He has to hiss when you tug at his hair again, his scalp stinging, when you pull him up to his own feet. “Sit.” The demand makes him groan, letting you twirl him around and push at his chest to only fall into the same chair he just eat you out on.

Seungmin manspreads on instinct and you bite your lip at the sight of him. He looks so dirty and so ready to let you do anything to him as long as he got to touch you again. You don’t keep him waiting for long, when you go to sit down on his inviting lap. “You are so hard…does it hurt?” Cooing at him, his mouth falls open at the feeling of your bare cunt on his clothed cock.

“Fuck me…” Groaning, his hands immediately find your hips, helping you ground on him. His face is leveled with your tits, before his eyes look up to you, watching you take deep breaths through your lips. His eyes linger on them, looking up at you with big eyes.

“You would like that wouldn’t you?”

It’s evil how you smile so sweetly while moving on top of him like this, each thrust growing harder and harder, the material of his pants rubbing at your swollen pussy. He can feel you soaking him, fingers going up to your waist to hold you closer to him. He would loved that actually — he will lose his mind otherwise. Your perfectly pouty lips are so close to him, breaths mixing together, but you don’t lean in. “I’ve been good…” His voice is soft, swallowing harshly by the addicting rolls of your hips. He can feel everything — your taste on his tongue, your pussy leaking and soaking his pants, your manicured nails piercing his shoulders…

You can’t help it, but moan too, your hand caressing his cheek, thumb pulling at his bottom lip. “Yes…you are.” Your praise is silenced by his lips on yours, tongue already pushing into your mouth. It’s all spit, loud smacks of your mouths echoing around your living room and you think you would be satisfied with just that, but there’s nothing you want to see more than his face when he is finally inside you.

Seungmin’s hands fly to your face, palms pushing and squishing your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Your glasses dig into his nose a little, hands hungrily grabbing at you while yours do the same, stopping at his belt. Your nails click on the metal and the sound wakes him up a little, helping you unbuckle it. When he feels your hands on the skin of his stomach he is already gone, though something comes over him. “I don’t have a condom—“ Seungmin pulls away from you, trying to catch his breath.

You don’t even stop pulling at his pants, tickling him a little with your touch. “It’s alright, I’m on the pill.” He puffs out air, small shock striking him at your words. Seungmin is literally trembling, not even thinking twice before he lifts you up from his lap slightly to let his cock to spring free. The cold air kisses his leaking tip and he hopes you are liking what are seeing when your eyes travel downwards.

You can’t see much of anything, but wrapping your hand around his length told you everything. He is long, veiny, hot to touch and the short trimmed hairs at the base makes you wonder if this was his plan all along. You however can’t really think straight with the faces he is making already and the painful ache in your core, makes you level his mushroom tip to your entrance. You are so fucking hot right now, it’s suffocating you. Just smearing his precum over your hole has you shaking, gripping tightly onto his shoulder as you slowly slide down on him.

Seungmin chokes at how tight and perfect you feel and he knows that he won’t last long. However that makes you even more aroused. Something about him not being able to handle you, already looking so overstimulated just by feeling you slide in and out of you is so good. “You are so fucking hot—“ His eyes are big, going all over you, while leaning back into the chair to give you more room. Your moves are smooth, hips rolling, rising before bottoming out again. Your slick is sliding down to his balls, the sounds of your bodies colliding together filling his ringing ears. He is breathing heavier, hands dragging across you till they stop at your bouncing breasts, smushing them together.

His touch feels in a way possessive and glancing at his face, the pull at his dark eyebrows is making your legs tremble. His cock hits your cervix every time, soft hair scratching at your puffy clit. Your glasses almost fall from your nose by your erratic movements, but he thankfully catches them before they could fall on the ground. He marvels in your beauty, loving the way your lipstick is smudge across your parted lips and he just knows his are stained as well. He can feel your heart hammering against your chest, his hands grappling at your shirt so roughly you can hear it tearing. You don’t even care anymore — you are going to end up a complete mess either way.

He observes you so closely it’s almost nerve racking. Seungmin’s darkened eyes go to your neck, so bare and inviting, his hand gripping at your hip to jerk his hips up a little. It makes you gasp, stopping for just a split second, but when he does it again your legs gave up around him. The more you stop moving the more he fucks up into you and you have to hold back a loud whine from his hard thrusts.

He curses under his breath, when your head tilts back, body arching into him. Your hair is a complete mess, shirt popped open, letting him see the black lacy bra wrapped around your pretty tits. He almost growls at the thought that he almost let someone else see you like this, make you crumble and cry like this — they wouldn’t be able to. The fact you are basically wearing something he would maybe see you in school is making all of his fucked up fantasies better — now it’s a reality. His senses are so heightened that he can even hear the sound of your heels scraping against the floor, trying to find your balance.

He can feel himself slowly falling over the edge, his own legs shaking from lifting you up to bounce you on his cock. The way your sighs get whiner is making it difficult for him to keep his composure. “You are so fucking distracting with your little outfits — c-couldn’t stop thinking about you like t-this–“ His voice is so shaky, he almost thinks you didn’t even hear him, but then he can see the smile even from your head being turned away from him.

“I know, I noticed.”

A gasp leaves you, eyes shooting open when you suddenly feel his hand on your throat. “Say it again.” With glassy eyes you meet his crazed ones. Your face scrunches up, hand flying over his, but you don’t move it away from you. The pressure he applies next, makes you drool and he catches it with his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

That is probably the most unexpected yet hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. The sudden change of dominance suits him so much, you are not having any trouble at succumbing to it. His mouth his so close to yours that your every word bounces of his lips. “I noticed you…” Mewling your hands fly to grip at his t-shirt, tugging it closer to you to maybe stop him from going so hard on you. When his long fingers tighten even more around your neck, skin burning under his rings, you start to feel the very familiar rumbling in your lower tummy. “S-Seungmin—“ The sound of his name coming from you, while you look so fucked out, makes him crumble.

“Please, cum for me.” Seungmin’s hand around your throat pulls you closer to him, shaking hand squeezing between where your bodies meet to find your clit. “I w-want to fill you up so bad, but I n-need you to cum first.”

He rolls, pinches at your bud, your body jerking up with just his movements and the show of power. The way he can be everything you want, how he can read you, your body and heart makes your last sound of pleasure form into silent scream. You are shaking wildly, sweating as the rope snaps in you, throwing you over the edge. In your state of euphoria, you don’t even hear how his breathing becomes rigid, but you do feel the nearly painful thrust of his hips.

You swear his tip breaches your cervix, the move, making your eyes open, just in time to see his frown of pleasure. A pathetic whimper falls from him, closing his eyes, body slumping against the chair as his cock twitches wildly around you, filling you up with his release. “S-so good–“ You lick your lips as you feel his cum painting you, it was so much that you can almost immediately feel it leaking out of you.

Seungmin head is empty for a moment, trying to catch his breath as he stares with wide eyes at the ceiling. The realization of what just happened — what he did, makes his orgasm feel even better. He feels your body slump forward, falling against his and he shouldn’t smile so much when he sees your eyes peaking up at him. He removes your hair from your hot face, flashing you such a sweet smile that seems laughable after everything that happened. “Will you…go on a date with me, Professor?” His question makes you laugh, smile not leaving your pretty face.

Your own hand pulls his short hair back from his forehead, losing yourself way too quickly at the stars in his eyes. “Call me by my name and sure, pretty boy–“ He grins even wider than before, pulling you up on his body to kiss you. However it does make you both moan in overstimulation, because his cock drags across your walls. With the look you two share next it’s clear that maybe a silly date will have to wait…

[jasvtsc]

terminally ill!dean winchester x reader.

dean knew that he didn’t have much time.

after discovering that he had blood clots in his brain that were pretty much incurable, because of a spell some witch cast on him, he didn’t know what to do. for the first time in his life, he felt so…

lost.

and when he thought about it better, he realized that he was all alone.

sure, there were people in his life. he had his brother and his friends. but he didn’t have his own person. everyone had someone. sam had a whole family, castiel was back in heaven doing some angel duty type shit and the rest of them? they weren’t that close.

so yeah, everyone had someone. but dean? he was lonely.

how else, after all he was the one who got rid of you in the first place. he still had this bitter feeling about your break up. not to mention the guilt that was eating him alive since that day.

as the type of person who avoids any type of feelings like fire, he did the same with you. as soon as you were getting too close to his liking, he got scared and immediately ran away. he came up with some shit, how he just got bored of you and it was all causal from the beginning — you were just imagining things, there was no relationship.

when in fact he loved you. and he loved you like crazy.

and the knowledge that he was about to die soon (where this time there was no coming back), he was actually scared.

all he wanted was one day with you.

but even when he was standing on the front porch of your house, he hesitated, his hand halfway up to the door as he didn’t know if he should knock. however, he had nothing to lose at this point. even if you screamed at him how much you hated him and punched him repeatedly, he’d take it. he’d do everything, just to see you this one last time.

so, he knocked.

and when you opened the door, you didn’t know if you were seeing things now or what. there he was — dean fucking winchester, in the flesh.

you debated whether you should kick him out or kick him. the fucking audacity to appear at your doorstep after all these years? yeah, well, you weren’t as strong-willed as you wanted to be so soon enough, he was sitting in your kitchen, having a cup of coffee.

“so, kids, huh?” he hummed, looking around at all the different pictures of your little family — your partner and two kids probably around the age of four and two.

and he couldn’t help but feel nauseous at the thought that it could be him if if wasn’t for the fact that he was a fucking coward. it was enough to make him want to turn back time and undo everything.

he missed you, so much.

and at this point, he regretted his whole life spent on avoiding commitment. maybe then, he’d have someone who would care for him enough to have a family together. maybe then, he’d get to be the father he once dreamed of being. he had always been good with kids and he wanted to even have some of his own one day — with you.

but of course, he had to fuck it up like everything else in his life.

“what do you want, dean?” you sighed tiredly, rubbing your temple. this whole situation was already giving you a headache and you had a feeling that it was about to get worse.

you weren’t wrong.

“well, you see—“ he cleared his throat and began to explain his situation. he didn’t want pity or sympathy. he didn’t want to guilt trip you. he just wanted you… to know. that’s all. “—so, i just wanted to see you again. one last time,” he said with a sheepish smile, quickly looking away.

because as soon as he noticed the tears gathering in your beautiful eyes, that once had held so much love for him, he felt like he was about to cry himself.

“how much time do you have?” you asked, your voice trembling as you looked at him in disbelief. it felt so surreal to know that the man you once loved was actually dying. and there was nothing you could’ve done about it.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged.

a fucking lie.

he knew exactly how much time he had left — just a few hours. he already said his goodbyes to everyone and you were the last one on his list. and the reason was pretty simple — he wanted to spend his last moments with the love of his life.

with the one that got away.

a/n: so yeah, this one was inspired by a kdrama called mr. plankton (that shit DESTORYED ME i actually need a few business days to get it together lmao) and ig i just keep on being emo

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas