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mysicklove · 11 months

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

DAY 14: LEG HUMPING

With: Ryomen Sukuna

Word Count: 4.4k (wow)

Warnings: Sub! Sukuna, Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood

A/N: i feel like i wrote this while i was high, but i was sober. idk. this is unedited but i will edit it tomorrow morning

“I fucking hate you, you know that? Despise every cell of your body.”

You hold back a laugh, running your fingers through his hair, which earns another near animalistic growl. “Well aren't you dramatic, King of Curses. Where did my Yuuji go?”

Sukuna glares up at you, lips curling upward. He was kneeling, with his hands chained behind his back, while you sit on a chair, crossed legged. He was in the position Yuuji was in seconds ago. The position that Yuuji asked to be put in. Sukuna, obviously did not agree to this arrangement.

Yuuji must have lost control when he sank into the subspace. Just for a second, which was all the curse needed to arise. He was watching the entire time, snickering when Yuujis begs got too dramatic, or joining in on the unwelcomed degradation when the boy started to cry.

But the only time the king was silent was when you spoke. He would conjur himself on Yuujis arm, face, hand, and just listen.

His vessel was a pervert, really, and you were too. He watched the boy go through the most humiliating things, and still he would always end up begging for more. The curse would rather die than to steep as low as Yuuji did. It was pathetic, truly.

But sometimes, when Sukuna sticks around for too long, he finds himself hypnotized by your voice. It was always so soft with Yuuji, full of adoration, but he could not miss the authority that oozed from your tone. Strict rules that were meant to be followed, commands that were not dared questioned, and punishments that were no empty threats. He was there when Yuuji was also punished, in those rare times. They were not fun, even if the brat held a raging hard on through it all.

But overall, Sukuna was strangely enamored by your character. He was always top dog, the strongest, the king of curses, but what about you sends a shiver down his spine? Why does he want to hear your doting words? Not to Yuuji, but to him.

Sukuna realized not long after having these thoughts that he wants to fuck you. Or maybe just get a handjob while you whisper lewd things in his ear, the way you did to the brat. Or maybe you'll wrap your lips around his dick if he was to play nice for a bit.

It will be just a one time thing. Just so he knows for sure that he doesnt want you. Yuujis thoughts of you must be clouding his. Tonight he was here to confirm.

“Brats gone. You’ve broke him or something. Humans do that,” Sukuna pipes up, rolling his eyes, and glancing back at the cuffs he has on. He rips them off without hesitation, sending the metal falling to the ground.

Sukuna was lying. Yuuji barely was dipping into the subspace, and you know his limits well enough. Sukuna was out because he wants to be out with you. But alas, you want to see how far this will go, so you continue to play with him. A fake pout covers your face and you sigh. “Those were Yuujis favorite cuffs, was that necessary?” Not a lie.

Sukuna dramatically stretches his hands out, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. He still remains on his knees. “Annoying things. Not like they would work on me.”

“Yeah, because they weren't for you.”

He stares at you, flashing his teeth. “He could have broken out of them too.”

“But he wouldn't have. He is good.” Your foot presses on his thigh, where it was previously resting, and Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you. You were into this, he could tell.

But he wasnt going to let you know, that he was also strangely intrigued as to what was going on right here. So, he rolls his eyes, and shifts under your foot, but doesn't move completely. “Doesnt fucking matter. Whatever. Brats pathetic.”

“He’s not. Dont be an ass,” You sigh, leaning back into your chair, and cracking a smile at the ceiling while you think about the scene that is about to unfold. Never would you have thought he would be coming to you. You always had small fantasies of fucking Sukuna, but you would never act on them, frankly because you knew that the curse wasnt interested. He was the one to nearly spit on the two of you during these times. But now, the cards were in his hands.

Sukuna’s hands creep onto your lower leg, and you try your best to ignore it. His nails gently scratch over your skin, and you dont dare to move. Instead, you let out a dramatic breath, and then press onto his thigh again. “Now what do I do…” You, very obviously, prompt, and Sukuna wants to roll his eyes.

“You want me to fuck you, that right?” He in turn teases, seeing if you will take the bait. The both of you are teetering on ice, waiting for eachothers next move.

To this, you lean forward, resting your arms on your knees so that you are face to face with the curse. He doesn't even flinch, just stares with an amused expression, while your fingers trail along his jaw. “But thats not what you want, is it?” You purr, face nearly inches from his. “And besides…Thought you hated me?”

He grins at you, smile borderline predatory. “I do. You make my vessel do disgusting things.”

“You watch us a lot, don't you Sukuna?”

He falters for a second, and then suddenly he feels your foot moves from his thigh, and toward his boxers. Yuuji was only wearing his black briefs when he was sent to Sukuna's domain. “Do you get off to it?”

The familiar glare replaces the smile, and his nails dig into your skin, harsh in warning, but not enough to draw blood. “As if. You two make me sick. You are corrupting the brat. You're disgusting.”

He can tell he is beginning to tick you off, but he does not mind, especially the way your foot slowly begins to press down on his cock. “Then why are you here Sukuna?”

“To fuck you,” He quips, rolling his eyes as if it was the obvious – he did already tell you this. The hand on your leg doesn't let up, and he hitches a breath when you step almost uncomfortably hard on him. A shiver runs down his spine, and he loathes the fact that maybe he is getting off to this.

“And why would I allow you to?”

But alas, his pride would never let up. “Allow me to? You think you can tell me what to do all of the sudden. I could kill you in a heartbeat.”

You roll your eyes at his bared teeth and the narrowed red eyes that are looking up toward you. “You are the one kneeling before me.”

He doesn't move from his position and the two of you stare in silence. You restrain from voicing your approval, not wanting to piss the already tempermental curse off.

Sukuna sighs and taps on the skin of your leg, signalling you to continue. “Get on with it. I want to see how gross your desires can be.”

“Will you be good for me and listen?”

“Is that what the boy does?”

You cock your head to the side, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows at him. “Yuuji? You know the answer to that question, you voyeur.”

The curse pinches at his brow, obviously peeved by your statement, and you cant help but giggle lightly at hin. “Not a voyeur. Just want…Whatever. Now for fucks sake, do something. Yes, yes I'll listen, do you want me to bark or some shit? I am not as pathetic and moldable as your other toy.”

The slap comes quick, sending a stinging sensation to his cheek, and Sukunas eyes nearly pop out of his head. He slowly brings his hands up to his face, touching the now pinkened skin, before turning to you. He didnt even have time to process it, or get angry about it, before you spoke. "Enough with the insults to Yuuji. Are you looking for some sort of attention?”

“Fuc-”

Another slap directly to the same spot, and Sukuna knows this time that he could have blocked it. You were a human, your attacks were slow, weak. But he didnt block. He let you do this. He was going mad, he had to be.

His face stings, and your hand comes forward to grip at his jaw. He tries to hide a wince, but you watch him clench his teeth together. “Are you done?”

He had two choices in the matter. One to keep, willingly, Sukuna notes with much hesitancy, get slapped around, or he can get his dick possibly wet. He came for the latter, and so he will abide, even if it damaged his pride. He looks away, and that is the best answer you'll get. “Good. Well that was easy. Does your face hurt?”

Sukuna barks a laugh, and you raise your eyebrows. “Do you have any perception of how weak you are?”

You raise your hand up immediately to strike, and the curse flinches, preparing for what was to come next. But you just keep your hand there, eyes widening in glee, while Sukuna borderline growls. He doesn't say anything though, so you lower your hand, and rest it on his head. The act causes his whole body goes rigid, but he continues to remain silent.

“I want you to put your hands behind your back.” Your first command toward him, and Sukuna, as embarrassing as it is, feels his heart begin to pound. His mouth goes dry, and he slowly releases them from your leg and slides them behind him, his wrists crossing over.

A playful smile pulls at your lips, and you lean over to him, ruffling up his hair as if he was some sort of dog to be pet. “Good little curse!”

Sukuna's heart pounds in his chest, and he begins to grow restless. His cock throbbed pathetically at the words, and he was embarrassed to admit that the praise felt nice. Different than the deranged pleasure he felt from the slap, and the harsh tone, but….Good overall. He nods with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Can you fucking hurry up.”

His hips gently buck into the pad of your sock, and you try your best to stay calm. He was liking it, all of it was so weird, but endearing, so you didnt move to stop him. “Are you getting frustrated, ‘kuna?”

The nickname has him catching his breath, and shifting on the pads of feet. The tone of your voice was sickenly sweet, and if he allowed himself to, Sukuna could melt into it. He tries to hold some of his dignity. “N-No,” He stutters out, and then curses under his breathe of how stupid he must sound. He quickly recuperates himself. “What do you want from me, you sick fuck?”

“Anything I want?”

“Don't hold your breath.”

You slowly remove your foot from his crotch, and the curse bites his tongue to hold back a complaint. He watches your eyes travel to the ceiling, lost in thought, before you turn back to him with a small grin. “Take your boxers off, and then put your hands back where they were. Exactly where they were.”

Sukuna was not shy, and neither were you, so he is quick to remove the article of clothing. Though of course this was Sukuna, so it was unnecessarily dramatic. He slices the thin fabric open with a single nail, and then throws the useless cloth away. Then he sighs when he looks down. “Of course the brat is small.”

Yuuji was many things, but small was definitely not one of them. He is well over the average size, and it was borderline intimidating. If Sukuna was calling Yuuji small then you didnt even want to know what the curse was carrying. “Small compared to your inhuman-freakish cock?”

“-s”

Your furrow you eyebrows and hum in question.

Sukunas grin is cocky, his body reeking of arrogance, even if he was the one kneeling. “You forgot the “s”. Cocks. Plural.”

Your face controrts to first shock, fear, and then finally lands on distain. “That's disgusting.”

“You say that now but when you are drooling on them later–” Another slap across the face, and Sukuna actually didn't see this one coming. It stuns him speechless for a moment, but then he shivers, cupping his cheek with one of his hands. His eyes flicker to you, but they don't hold any disdain in them – he simply just watches, curious of your next move.

He fails to notice the glob of precum that falls onto the floor after the slap. “Ah, are you leaking Sukuna? Does getting hit turn you on?”

It may be the pain, or may be the psychological aspect of it all. If he says something wrong, he gets punished, and for some reason or another, that drives him insane with desire. He gulps, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Of course not. I am not the pervert here.”

“But I bet I could make you do some perverted things.”

His cock, as humiliating as it is, likes the sound of that. It noticeably twitches, and he hopes that more pre doesn't slip out before starting anything. His hands shift from behind his back, but he doesnt dare to move them. “Yeah? How far does your twisted mind go?”

“Far. But I dont want to scare you off too badly tonight,” You sigh, leaning back comfortably in your chair. Sukuna holds off a growl, peeved at how you worded the statement. “Guess you can just hump my leg.”

He laughs, loud and proudly, but your smile withstands. You rest your cheek on your palm, and you wait for the booming laugh to die down. It does, not after long, and slowly when he realizes that you arent joking, the curse glares as you. “Oh fuck off. I told you I am not to be your dog.”

You sigh, and stand up from your chair. “Guess we will end here for the night then. Send Yuuji back when he is well rested.”

A clawed hand wraps around your leg, and Sukuna bares his teeth at you. “Fine. I'll do it. Would you stop being so dramatic?” He gets out through clenched teeth.

You nod and sit back down in your chair, kicking your leg out. Sukuna eyes it, as if unsure of what to do. “Mount it,” You encourage, shaking your limb ever so gently.

“I know how to, you fucking idiot,” He bites, and then slowly uses his knees to push himself forward. His red eyes lock onto yours, and he stares at you the entire time as he straddles you. Your foot rests beneath his body, and his cock barely grazes your lower knee. One hand rests on the back of your leg for security, and the other onto the edge of your chair.

You gulp, and move your leg upward, pinning his cock in between his stomach and the skin of your leg. The curse doesnt dare to move, and he holds a wince when he glances at the glob that drips from his tip and smears onto your leg. A token sign that he is unbelievably turned on. “Drooling over me already? I'm flattered.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Bite your tongue before I rip it off.”

You don't even flinch at the threat, instead applying more force upward, making the curse curl inward on himself as he tries to lift his hips upward, away from the foot. “Get on with it,” You command, leaving no room for complaints.

His eyes flicker toward you when he hears the strictness in your tone, and he blinks when you glare at him. He gulps, ignoring the pleasant shiver that runs down his spine. But he doesn't dwell on it, because you lower your leg again, and he is free to move. His hands feel strangely shaky, but he hides it well, not wanting to know how much power, Sukuna is discovering quickly, you have over him.

He lines his cock to the middle of your leg, and thrusts forward without much hesitancy. The skin is soft, and it glides over with little resistance, and Sukuna’s eyes are glued to the spot.

Its strange, not as pleasurable like all the previous women he has fucked, nor a warm throat, but for some reason or another, it sends his head spinning.

His hips retreat, and they push themselves upward against the plush of your leg. Eventually he falls into a steady motion, entranced by his actions. It's pathetic, and gross, but why did it feel so good? A leg shouldnt be pleasurable – it doesnt wrap around his cock like he wants it to, but it is strangely addicting.

He realizes quickly why it feels that way – Sukuna is no idiot. He likes the psychological part behind it. He likes that he is kneeling for you, and getting off to something so measly as this. It makes him feel gross compared to you – nothing more than skum, and you, must be some sort of god. It turns him on so much he can barely stand it.

His head falls forward, and it taps onto your thigh. His whole body seems to tremble, and the timing of his thrusts seems to pick up – they are quicker, frantic, and his cock nearly slides off more than it should.

Your fingers fall to his head, and this time he doesnt move, in fact he seems to melt into the touch. This was weird, and you were both intrigued, and slightly scared. “You really seem to be liking this, huh?”

He doesn't respond for a long second, maneuvering his fingers to hold onto the back of your leg with his thumbs left in front of the limp. It provides a makeshift “O” and finally the curse feels like he is actually fucking something, rather than just grinding. “There ya go,” He mumbles to himself, as if lost in a trance. His cock slides itself between your leg and his thumbs, and its driving him insane.

When he doesnt respond, you tug backward on his hair, forcing him to look up at you. To your surprise, he doesnt glare at you, nor let out a biting remark; instead, the curse moans. Its low, and holds a sort of vibration to it, but definitely there. “Oh you fucking freak.”

He lets out a lazy grin, neck uncomfortably craned upward. You watch the way he licks at his teeth, and he breathes out, “More.”

You press your leg deeper into him, and Sukuna in response lets out another gutteral moan, except this one holds a whine to it. The sound travels straight to your groin, and you sit up in your chair, eyes slightly widening. “What changed, king? Dont tell me your getting off to grinding against a mere human peasant like me?”

He lets out a small, breahthless laugh, but doesnt dare stop his motions. “Just this once. Just this once let me, and th-then I swear you are dead.”

Your leg is glistening in some small areas, from when he leaked and spread it into the skin with his tip. He stares at your face the entirety of it, even when you look away to glance at his cock. “But ‘kuna, whose leg will you frot against if you kill me? Aw dont tell me, youll find another to cling to. Y’know I am the only one who can take care of you.”

You drop his head and he goes back to resting his forehead on your knee. His pants are warm against your leg, and you feel him shake his head.

You are right of course. He would never dare show another this side of him to another. He doesnt want to either, even if he never would admit it outloud. “J-Just stop it. Please.”

Please was not in the king of curses vocabulary. Your eyes widen with glee. “How much do you like it? Tell me, does my leg feel good?”

“Does. Fuck. Fuck, I hate you. I hate you.” He nods his head into your leg, hiding his face. His body turns a shade similar to his hair, and it begins to glisten with sweat from his movements. He lets out small breathless moans, and stares at the tip moving up and down the fake color.

His body seems to curl around you your limb, as if trying to trap it in his hold. His lips, much to your surprise, press themselves to your knee and you can hear the smallest chant. “Love it. ‘S mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

You raise your eyebrows at the deranged, borderline creepy words. “So you hate me, but love my leg? Don't tell me you got some strange fetish.”

You feel his canines hover over the space just above your knee, a small warning from the curse. You blink at him, surprised by the small resistance, but dont do much. He licks at the flesh a second later, and pulls away. You have to bite back a laugh.

His hands by this point have dropped, and are instead clawing at your chair. He doesnt need them anymore, considering that he is so close to you that that his stomach and your leg are stimulating him on both sides.

“Fuck. I'm close,” Sukuna mumbles into your skin, pressing himself impossibly closer. You wish you had your phone to take a picture – he was basically cradling your leg as if it was some sort of prized possession.

“Are you asking me for permission?”

“N-No. ‘m not. Can I?” He paws at your thighs, nails threatening to dig into your skin. Of course he would never, at least not in this meager state.

“No.”

He bares his teeth at you and glares, but his eyes convey his true feeling: panicked. His pace doesn't slow though, and your leg is now sticky from the amount of precum lost. “I-Im going to whether you like it or not. Fuck. Fuck you. I hate you. Ngh, can you just–just agree!”

His mouth is back onto your knee, sending it sloppy kisses, and small bites. His tip is pulsing red, and it begins to throb. His legs were beginning to tremble, and he tries to focus on not cumming. For some unknown reason, Sukuna wants you to allow him to.

“But you were a brat all day? Boys who threaten death, dont deserve certain privileges,” You hum, and then run your fingers through his hair. “But I am a mere human, and you the king of curses. Why would you listen to my commands?”

Sukuna bites his lip, immediately tearing blood. It dribbles down his chin, but he is quick to wipe it off, and reheal himself. His brows furrow and he scowls at the floor. The only noises let out are the grunts of his movements, and the moans that seem to get higher in pitch with each coming second.

He is lost in thought. The curse doesnt understand why he wants permission, but he needs it. He cant cum without it, it was bound to dissapoint you if he did. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and finally, the pathetic words that he has been thinking this entire night come spilling out. “Cause I want you to! Command me, give me orders, do something to me. J-Just I–fuck! I need it!”

“Why?”

He was growing frustrated and more panicked as the seconds go by. He was moments from cumming. “Because I–I ngh–Want to please you! Would you just fucking…” He warbles, praying that tears don't come. “Let me cum. I beg you. Let me. I'll do anything.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, and blood flows to your crotch. His watery eyes blink up at you, and he continues to rut against you, like some sort of dog. But thats what he is, or seems to want to be. So, you cock your head to the side, and provide him with a lazy grin. “Go ahead, Fido.”

His red eyes seem to light up at the approval, and he nods to himself as if bewildered by your agreement. But, he does follow through with the plea, and suddenly he is cumming. His whole body trembles, and he holds onto your leg with such force that you have to slide your hands on to of his, in a slight warning to be gentle. Cum shoots out onto your leg, but you can barely see it, considering his body has caved in on himself. He continues to rub himself out even through it all, as he pants into your knee. The curse wears a lazy grin through it all, and lets out small high in pitch moans.

He collapses backward, landing on his ass and panting to catch his breath. You glance away for a second, at most two, to look at the cum stained on your leg. A chuckle falls from your lips.

When Sukuna recovers, he goes straight back to scowling at you. In a heartbeat, he stands over you, borderline growling at you. His nails dig into your shoulders, and your eyes widen at the quickness of it all. Then he leans forward, a near inch away from your ear he whispers, “Don't get your hopes up. This will never happen again. Do you hear me?”

His nail presses uncomfortably hard into your skin, and so you are forced to nod. And with that your vision goes black.

For the next two weeks, Sukuna doesnt conjure up on Yuujis body anytime you are around. You dont mind it too much – it did save you from bickering with the arrogant prick. But to be honest, you were a little disappointed, having call his bluff.

You werent disappointed for long.

Low and behold, two weeks later from the incident, you find yourself faced to face with the King of Curses, who was already kneeling before you.

He glares at you, teeth on full display, as if he didnt realize what position he has put you guys in. “If you mention this to anyone, I will tear you to shreds.” Is all that he says.

But you arent too picky. So you grin, and hold your leg out.

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ceoofglytchell · 1 month

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Safe Haven

Summary: While Aemond searches for comfort with Madame Sylvi, the older brother has long chosen you, one of the Madame’s more expensive girls, to be the shoulder he cries on.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Brothel worker!Reader

Word count: 3127 words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, making out, brief nudity, brief smut, allusions to past smut, mention of sex work, mention of the death of a child, he’s kinda dependent on you, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I just wanted to thank you all for the positive reactions to my first fanfic! I could never have imagined people would actually read and like the stuff I write and I am very grateful for that. Also I would like to thank @danytar for supporting me ever since I started this blog, love ya! Anyways, here’s another one for you! 💛

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“Look, it's the king!”

You looked up from the cup of wine that you had been holding for some time, staring into the dark red liquid, hoping that tonight you would just have to sit there and look pretty for the men coming by to get rid of their loneliness for an hour or so. While you were grateful for your job, as it meant you wouldn’t have to live a miserable life on the dirty streets of King’s Landing, there were times when you wished you were someone else.

A lady from a rich house, a princess, a queen...

However, those were nothing more but daydreams and besides, you didn't really want to carry the burdens of royal life on your shoulders. Not when you had heard for many years how much they plagued a certain silver haired prince who came to you ever since he saw you dancing for some men once in Sylvi's fine establishment. It had been several years ago and at first he had actually only come to you to have someone to drink with. A little later, he had begun to open up to you and then you often dried his tears and held him in your arms whenever his grandfather and mother once again frightened him with the thought that he would have to wear the crown one day.

It had been two weeks since he had last been with you. The poor boy had stumbled into the brothel in the middle of the night, completely drunk, bumped into people and started a fight because he had thought you were taking care of another client, the thought of which he could not stand, which had not been true, as you had simply taken a small break. You had barely run into the room after you had been told he had come when he had already thrown himself directly into your arms and buried his face in your hair while sobbing bitterly.

The very next day, you and many other people had been dragged into the dragon pit to watch Aegon being crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms in front of everyone, and that moment your heart had broken for him, knowing how much he had never wanted that title.

Now, some time later, he was standing in the doorway again, his two friends Martyn and Leon were standing not far behind him and a young man with raven-black hair was also there, but you didn't recognize him and he seemed to be a little unwell. Aegon also seemed drunk, very drunk actually, as he was slurring his words and could hardly walk in a straight line, but when he spotted you on the opposite side of the room, a broad grin formed on his handsome face.

"My love!" he called loudly and stumbled past a couple, who seemed lost in a passionate dance, and ran up a small staircase to where you and some other girls were sitting on the sofas and talking to pass the time. His friends followed him cautiously, knowing how infatuated he was with you.

You quickly placed your golden cup of wine on the side table, stood up and approached him just to make sure he wouldn't trip and embarrass himself in front of all these people. He was the king after all and you knew some who already saw him as weak and incapable of ruling, which you wanted to shield him from. You knew what he had been through recently and it had only been a matter of time before he came back to you.

There was just one small problem... his brother had also come through the doors not too long ago and he had not left yet.

So you had two things to worry about that night: Aegon and not accidentally stumbling over Aemond.

As soon as you got close enough, Aegon wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and held you tightly against him, as if to make sure you wouldn't vanish into thin air. You have been his safe haven for quite some time now, and your mere presence did wonders for his troubled soul, your smile a balm for his heavy heart. Your long, wavy hair smelled of roses, and your body, wrapped in green satin robes, clung to his so perfectly that for a moment he thought you had melted into one. Aegon wanted nothing more than you and your closeness, which was why he had come here that evening. He had wanted to see you.

"I missed you," Aegon murmured into your hair, his fingers digging into the fabric of your robes over your hips to feel your warmth. But he would prefer it if you weren't wearing any clothes at all so he could feel your soft skin under his fingers instead. You didn't even have to do anything together, he just wanted to be close to you.

"I missed you too, Your Grace."

"Don't call me that," he grumbled into your shoulder and instinctively hugged you tighter. He came to you to feel free and forget some of the burdens that weighed on his shoulders, not for you to remind him who he was and that he wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in the council chambers, talking to his council about the next steps of the war or just doing something, but instead he sought comfort from you - a whore.

"My Darling? Sweetling? Precious?" you joked playfully instead, while stroking his back with your gentle hands. You had used all of these names with him before, but he had never admitted which one was his favorite or whether he found them all to be terrible. However, you always thought he liked them better than some respectful noble title that he didn't want to wear anyway.

One of his friends, Martyn, cleared his throat and patted the young black-haired man on the shoulders, as if to tell his king that there was still something to do before he could devote himself to his own satisfaction.

His head shot up again immediately, which messed up his silver hair a little, which was not a very unusual sight for him, and he put an arm protectively around your waist, while he looked right back at his drinking companions. "Right, right. Dove, we are looking for the madam. This young lad here needs bedding in, gently. I thought she was the perfect choice, don’t you agree?”

Your lover wanted to go with you in the direction of the private rooms, but you managed to hold him back by the arm, whereupon he clumsily bumped back into you in his drunken state, but you were already used to that.

"Madame Sylvi is busy right now."

Aegon opened his mouth to reply, but thank the gods he was a little slower in his movements and reactions at the moment due to the influence of wine.

"However, I know someone else who would treat the boy well." You only had to snap your fingers once and one of the girls you had been sitting with on the sofas earlier came running over and quickly grabbed the boy's hand. She was a little younger than you, pretty, and talented. In your eyes, that was certainly better than interrupting the madam right now, especially considering who she was with in this very moment.

"You heard the woman. Go on, get going. And have fun!" Aegon called after the squire as he was being dragged into one of the back rooms by the whore you had called to help, whereupon he burst into loud, drunken laughter. You just rolled your eyes and shook your head, but a small glint within your gaze revealed how much you truly cared for the king no how much he meant to you.

It wasn't just the sack of gold he gave you after every night, or the sex that was important to you, but rather everything about him. You loved his loud laugh, the way he constantly sought your closeness, his urge to always touch you, you loved his jests just as much as the moments when he showed you how vulnerable and broken he truly was, when he just leaned on your shoulder and cried and you stroked his back and told him how good he was being and that he would always be enough for you. That was what you loved. You loved him.

"And what are we two going to do now?" you asked him, amused, to which he simply grabbed your hand in response and started to pull you along, while he didn't even look back at his friends, since you were everything that mattered to him. You were the only one who could ease his hidden pain.

Since he came here again and again especially for you, he knew his way around here like few other and knew exactly where the little alcoves were where two people could make themselves comfortable, be alone and spend time together. Luckily for the both of you, one at the beginning of the corridor had just become free, so you wouldn't run into a certain other Targaryen. You did not want an argument, not now.

As soon as Aegon had shut the curtain behind you both, he sighed and fell onto the soft mattress while you moved to lit the candles to make the atmosphere a little more pleasant. It smelled of candle wax and fire, but also of various perfumes and other fragrant oils that the previous guests had probably used before they had left again. You already knew that the hour he would spend with you would be either very nice or very heartbreaking. After all, you hadn't seen each other for two weeks and he certainly had much to talk about. You, on the other hand, could mostly only tell him the same stories about overzealous customers and strange preferences that the other women had told you about. Those talks didn't bore him, because he was sure that he would always be happy as long as you were with him.

For a moment you considered taking off your clothes and pulling him into your lap, but you decided against it when you saw that he was just staring into one direction, his good mood evaporating like a pile of ashes in the wind. You knew that look and it was usually never a good sign. He needed you. Now perhaps more than ever.

"Aegon?" you asked carefully and sat down next to him on the white sheets, which were a bit out of order and had stains in some places that you didn't want to think about too long.

"Come here, I need you," the king murmured and tugged at the ends of your robe, whereupon you chuckled and dropped down next to him on the round bed and immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

"I wish I could have been there for you. That night."

You knew the night he lost his son was a difficult subject and probably not what he wanted to talk about, or what he had come to you for, but you couldn't hold that thought back any longer. The other girls had told you how he had all the rat catchers hanged the next day and how hard it had been to watch the little prince's funeral march. You hadn't been there because you had things to do, but you weren't sure you would have watched it voluntarily either, because the regret would probably have eaten you alive.

All the time he spent with you, he could have spent with his children, but he was probably aware of that as well. But the regret didn't change his feelings for you, and you both knew that he would come back again and again and again. Sometimes you really believed he was as dependent on you as he was on dornish wine.

"They wanted Aemond, did you know that? It was supposed to be revenge for Rhaenyra's dead son, but because he wasn't there... because he wasn't there, they murdered my little son in his bed."

His grip on your waist tightened and you knew from his voice alone that he was close to tears, if they weren't already shining in his eyes. You would weep too if your child had been murdered, but you did not have one. A bastard would only hinder you from your work and you didn't want to lose your only source of livelihood, even if the thought of being a mother was one that often crossed your mind.

Especially if he would be the father...

"It's my brother's fault. It's all, all his fault. If it had not been for him, I would be far away from all this in the free cities or gods know where! I would not be king and my boy would still be alive!"

Aegon was sobbing now and you couldn't do anything but wrap your arms around him even more and listen to him speak, because if he didn't tell you, who else would listen to his thoughts? Certainly not his mother, not his brother anymore either, he rarely spoke to his sister-wife anyway and thus he only had you. You were the only one who always listened to him and who was always honest.

He wished he could have married you... You two could have lived a simple, beautiful life far away from King’s Landing, outside of Westeros. But neither of you were granted such a life. He was the king and you were just the whore he loved.

"Don't you have anything to say, love?"

You looked up from his shoulder and leaned over him so you could see his sad amethyst colored eyes and the tear that slowly made its way down his cheek, leaving a trail of wetness behind on his pale skin. You felt a brief urge to brush it away, but instead you let it fall and watched as the tear fell onto the velvet pillow that lay beneath his head, leaving a tiny black stain that would disappear in a matter of minutes. No one would ever know what you and the king did behind the curtain, but you knew that if you happened to be mentioned later on, history would describe you as nothing more than his mere mistress. Perhaps in this case you wanted to be forgotten entirely, for no writing would ever do justice to what you two had together.

The bond that bound you to each other was strong, but no one would ever know about it.

"What can I say, darling? There is nothing I can say except that I am deeply sorry, and I already did."

"Then don't say anything. Show me." As much as he tried to make it sound like a suggestion, it was a command. But you loved him too much to tell him that this was not the right way and that you were not exactly good for him. He wouldn't listen to you anyway. Two days later and he would be at your doorstep again. That's how it had always been and that's how it always would be. You would get gold for your efforts and he would kiss you goodbye and leave.

As always, you obeyed him and connected your lips with his. Two weeks without you had been too much for him. Aegon moaned into the kiss and pulled you closer to him, as close as humanly possible so that he could feel every feminine curve of your body pressed against his even though you were both still wearing your clothes.

Normally this would be the moment when he would turn you onto your back and rip those sheer robes from your body, but this time he did nothing of the sort and gave you full control.

Your tongue found its way into his mouth and you could still taste the heavy wine that was clouding his senses on his own tongue and it was clear that he had probably drunk a lot of before he had set foot in this establishment again, which you couldn't blame him for. If you had been in his place, you would probably have thrown yourself off one of the balconies of the Red Keep long ago, but he was stronger than that.

You kissed him desperately, pouring every emotion you had ever felt for him into that one kiss and he let it happen and he lost himself in it, he lost himself in you.

You managed to numb his senses better than anyone in the known world and perhaps that was another reason why he always found his way back to you in the end. But you let him in every time, which told him that you must feel for him too.

There were moments when he couldn't help but wonder if you were real. Not whether you existed, because he knew very well that you did, no, whether your affection for him was really genuine. Your smile, your laughter, the way you always sought his closeness whenever he was with you, and how gently you treated him all gave him the hope that you actually felt the same as he did, but he would probably never be sure. After all, you never refused his gold. Probably only then would he be sure that it was real.

Your gentle hands slowly brushed his coat from his shoulders and worked on the clasps of his tunic, believing that this was exactly what he wanted, because after all, he hadn't told you anything except that you should show him what you couldn't with words.

A short time later, you were both completely undressed and you moved your hips against his in a way that made his eyes flutter shut and left him gasping for air and groaning your name in pure bliss.

Fucking, alcohol and you were the only things that could distract him from being king or from wondering when the next time would be the stranger's shadow would fall upon his family and who it would be. It just couldn’t be you. If he lost you... he wouldn't know what to do.

Aegon was aware that none of this was good for him and that he should have stopped coming back to you years ago, but when you lay in his arms again a little later, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat on your body and a happy, radiant smile on your face, he knew that no matter what happened, he would never let you go. You would always be with him, although unfortunately not as his wife, but he couldn't help his feelings and he wouldn't hide them from you.

"I love you," he whispered to you, his hand stroking your side soothingly and his head resting against yours.

"I love you too, Aegon."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #tom glynn carney

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planetaryupscaled · 4 months

Text

Tutoring 2: Hall Pass

Male Reader x Park Sooyoung (Joy)

Tags: 9k, age-gap, cheating, creampie, cuckold

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

“So you’re not mad?” Sooyoung asked her husband as they sat down at the kitchen table... the same place where I’ve had my way with her so many times.

“I don’t think I am,” Hyoseob answered, truthfully.

He tried to imagine what it would have been like for me and Sooyoung in the school shower, and then in the car. He tried to picture her glistening pussy lips around my throbbing dick, and how I licked and caressed her dear wife. How much better was it that his dutiful wife chose infidelity not once, but twice. She cheated, willingly, despites of the rules, and this thought made his loins burn. Sooyoung was behaving like a wanton slut, which was in stark contrast to her prideful personality.

Among all the rules broken, the rule about it being recorded was the only one he truly hoped she would follow. But deep down, he wanted her to break the rules over and over again, and he only wanted to watch. He had that burning desire, but he couldn’t admit it, especially to Sooyoung.

“I don’t like admitting it, but he makes it kinda hard to resist,” Sooyoung stated, averting her gaze. “He’s so much different from what you think he’d be. His thrusts are so deliberate and so skillfully measured and confident. It makes me so-” she said, unable to finish her sentence.

“Like just that one shower,” she rambled on, “I have no idea why I was so... receptive of his touch! I didn’t have it in mind to cheat at all and... suddenly it was already happening. I’m sorry, but his lips and his hands were so-”

Sooyoung stopped again. Her hands started fidgeting. The guilt was palpable, dripping from her words. Hyoseob had to make sure she was okay. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to witness it himself, to see his wife being plowed like a wanton slut.

“Minho kissed you?” He probed. “Tell me.”

“Yes, well,” Sooyoung blushed and shrugged, “it was more intense and... amazing.”

“You kiss him back?” He asked again.

“A lot, actually. And... our tongues too,” she whispered in reply.

She was telling him everything, how it was just intense, amazing sex, that my abilities and stamina far outweighed his, but it was also just physical pleasure with no emotional attachment or love. Sooyoung swore to her husband that I meant nothing to her. He had to talk her into another meeting with me, this time with the recorder.

“Sounds like Minho has a fan,” He teased Sooyoung, but his tone gave him away. His heart pounded with both anxiety and excitement. Sooyoung cherished sex, and now she had shared it with someone other than him.

“Oh shut up,” Sooyoung said, but with a smile just lingering under the surface.

“So, what was the thing he said again?” Hyoseob asked.

“Yeah,” Sooyoung admitted as Hyoseob laid on top of her, “he said something like... ‘I’ll fuck you whenever I want.’” Her imitation of it was less than flattering.

“You want that?” Hyoseob dared to ask, excited at the idea of his lovely wife being taken against her will, during dubious consent, thrust into a willing participant by the magnificent skill of someone else.

“Maybe...” she purred, urging him to move his hips. Her admission sent shockwaves through him, as guilt and jealousy drove him deeper into his wife.

“And, ah, you wanted him to knock you up?” He asked, going a bit faster.

“Hyoseob, it was j-just talk,” Sooyoung purred. “I was just stroking his ego. But it worked. He cum so much inside me.”

“Yeah?” He panted.

“Yeah, babe.” she breathed. “So much. So thick, it clung to me.”

His breathing quickened as his mind conjured the image of Sooyoung sprawled beneath someone else in her car, in a damn near public parking lot. It didn’t take him long to cum deep inside her, unable to resist her words and description. She was more turned on by her cheating than he could have ever hoped for, so he told her that they needed it again and more. With the promise of more, they both fell into a deep slumber.

—

“I think we should stick with handjobs... reinforce the rules.,” Sooyoung suggested to her husband as she had scheduled another ‘Tutoring’ with me after school on Tuesday, but she was having second thoughts, wanting to reestablish the control they had lost. “I don’t think I want to have sex... with Minho again.”

“What?” Hyoseob asked, not believing his wife. “You’re joking,” He added. “If I sent you over there right now, you really think you’d only jerk him off?”

“Yeah?” Sooyoung answered unconvincingly.

He gave her a wry smile. “Then do it,” he said. “I’m giving you a hall pass to prove me wrong.” You haven’t done any ‘tutoring’ this week anyway.”

“Babe!” Sooyoung exclaimed, taken aback. “I can’t do that. It’s against the rules. And we were having this week off, remember?”

“That’s the point of a hall pass,” He chuckled, excited to see his wife relent. “Besides, you’d only be jerking him off, right? That’s well within the rules, even if it’s a hall pass.”

Sooyoung didn’t respond right away. She closed her eyes, trying not to be tempted by the challenge. It was as though she was afraid, afraid that she would succumb and more, prove him right in doing so.

“Don’t... don’t tempt me,” she said, finally. “Minho knows how to bend a girl to his will, honey.” She then cringed at her choice of words.

“Which is?” Hyoseob asked with a wide, hopeful smile.

She looked at him and then out into space. A smile spread across her lips, and her hand moved to his thigh.

“Just remember to record,” he said.

“Hey, I didn’t say I’m going over,” Sooyoung shot back, gently punching him with her other hand. “Remember, he got inside me last week, despite the rules. Twice, even. It’s... hard to resist him.”

“You said as much earlier,” He reminded.

“Yeah, he just feels amazing and does things that-” Sooyoung began before correcting herself. “…never mind.”

“That I can’t do?” Hyoseob said, finishing her sentence. Sooyoung’s silence spoke volumes, she took a breath, steadying her nerves. Then her eyes flashed in his direction, a devious expression growing.

“Okay,” Sooyoung said, “I’ll go, to prove you wrong.”

—

‘Im coming over,’ Sooyoung wrote, and soon after I met her once again at this house, and let her in through the back door. As it wasn’t conspicuous enough that Hyoseob’s wife snuck hurriedly across the street, looking up and down the street to make sure no one noticed.

“What about your parents?” Sooyoung whispered.

“Away, they usually are during the weekends,” I reassured, ushering her to their bedroom.

When we got through the door, I began feeling her up, eagerly ravaging her curvaceous yet trim body. Sooyoung initially did not react because she was unsure what to do. As my hands found their way to her soft, round ass, she began responding by kissing back with even more hunger. My fingers dug hungrily into the flesh hidden by her tight spandex pants. The ass she kept in shape for her husband. She hadn’t worn underwear, but she sure could feel my fingers running up and down her cheeks and inner thighs. Sooyoung spread them out, inviting me to go deeper.

Instead of shoving my fingers into her clothed fabric, I pushed her down onto the bed. My hands slid into the waistband and rolled her pants up her long legs. She lifted her hips as I tugged, letting the spandex to roll along with her panties.

“I can’t believe it’s been a week already,” I said, quickly removing her pink, silky, patterned top, revealing her round, fat tits, and tossing it over her other clothes.

“Damn, your tits look fucking nice,”

Sooyoung smiled as I stared at her body, groping and rubbing her left breast. My thick, erect member was tenting in my sweats. I pressed her tits together, climbed on top of her, and began licking all over them.

‘This is getting out of control,’ she thought. “C’mon, Minho,” Sooyoung whispered, pushing me to get my attention. Instead of slowing down, I licked and sucked her soft, creamy neck. “Minho… oh shit,” she whimpered, goosebumps rushing through her.

At some point, I must have angled my sweats down, because Sooyoung felt my swollen cock press against her opening, threatening entry. Her slit, wet with arousal, opened for me as I began sliding into this lovely wife.

“Unnnng,” Sooyoung groaned, helplessly succumbing to my touch, her pussy aching with anticipation.

It forces Sooyoung to admit her pleasure. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Sooyoung moaned in satisfaction, wrapping her arms tightly around my shoulders and neck. She knew her husband couldn’t compete in length, width, or technique, but feeling my size stretch and touch places that were severely under-stimulated brought her to new heights.

“I thought we were waiting till Tuesday,” I hummed as I lowered myself and dove into her neck once more. My cock slid almost completely into her tight warm hole, and my movements became quick, fluid motions that allowed me to pull almost completely out before driving deep inside.

“We were... ohhh,” Sooyoung groaned.

I was prepared to stretch, ruin, and ravish her, and all she planned was a handjob? The absurdity made her smile as she ran her fingernails up and down my back, enjoying the sensation of her tight pussy being stretched wide by someone that’s not her husband.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” I teased.

“Hyoseob dared me to come over here and just jerk you off,” Sooyoung admitted, smiling up at me with a light sheen of sweat.

“How did that go?” I asked cheekily.

“Shut up,” Sooyoung smiled, squeezing me between her walls.

“Fuu-uck,” I groaned, shuffling my hips between her legs. “Nngg, you’re really gonna let me knock you up someday, aren’t you?”

“Hnnng, you keep that up and, oh god, maybe I will,” she gasped.

“Really? You like this cock knocking up your womb?” I pressed.

“Oh fuck,” Sooyoung hissed.

Sooyoung was getting increasingly vocal, moans of delight sounding out throughout the empty house as I kept slamming into her. My eyes were fixed on the beautiful teacher’s exposed breasts, rolling and flopping back and forth every time my body touched hers. Her nails clawed my back, and I grunted, feeling her walls tighten with each thrust. Her slickened insides massaging my dick, preparing for the next load...

I felt the cum start to boil over and surge to the end of my shaft. My cock was throbbing madly within her until it began releasing its hot fluids. I kept pumping, squirting over and over as I closed my eyes in satisfaction. Sooyoung felt her cunt ripple and pulse with each eruption. Her own juices flowed around the spewing shaft, coating my cock and dripping in a pool on the sheets under her.

I looked down at her. Her beautiful cheeks were flushed red and glistened with sweat. I pulled her head closer, pressing my forehead against hers, hanging low and grazing her face as I buried my softening dick in her womb, hoping to delay leaving her silky depths. She still moaned, feeling a gentle pumping within her. Sooyoung sighed, and we kissed.

—

Hyoseob smirked knowingly when his disheveled wife finally came through the door later that evening. Sooyoung didn’t even try to hide the slight waddle she’d acquired from the fucking, which made him snort a little laugh. She responded with a defiant glare, challenging him.

“We shouldn’t fool around with hall passes,” Sooyoung muttered, chuckling lightly.

“Did you record?”

“Not the first time...” Sooyoung said, a crooked smile creasing her face as she looked at him.

“How many times...” Hyoseob asked, trailing off. Sooyoung had been over there for two hours.

“How many...” she stalled. “Erm, three. Plus some foreplay here and there...”

“You slut!” He chided with a big grin.

“It’s your fault!” Sooyoung shot back. “Besides, how could you dare send him over there in the first place?!”

Hyoseob was as hard as a stone when he heard the news. Sooyoung pretended to be mad, but it was clear she enjoyed the whole experience.

“So… can we watch together?” He asked, hoping to experience some of his wife’s deviousness together.

“Oh yes, just make sure to hit ‘fast forward’ to skip all the dumb and unnecessary things. Minho was trying so hard to get me to clean his cock or whatever, but hell if I’m ever taking his dirty thing into my mouth... especially after sex... It smelled of us for gods’ sake.”

Hyoseob patted the seat beside him on the couch, inviting her to join him, but Sooyoung hesitated.

“Here?” she asked, rendering him a bit confused.

“Yeah? You’ve done stuff with Minho here, so what’s the big deal?”

“Nothing. You’re right,” Sooyoung decided and plopped down beside him.

She took the phone from her bag, a seductive smile on her face. It was clear the experience had opened a door Sooyoung hadn’t really anticipated. Now his wife seemed to be warming up to the idea of being intimate with another person, even if it was pure sex.

“So, before we watch this, we need to talk about the rules,” Sooyoung declared.

“Oh, come on!” He pouted.

“No, listen. I want the rules. The rules were: you need to be able to watch, you need to be able to say no, no intercourse, and once a week. We’ve broken all of them more or less. I told Minho before He left that we needed to abide by the rules from now on, that this evening was an exception. He can’t just fuck me whenever he wants... and vice versa I guess,” Sooyoung said.

“Abide by the rules from now on? Including ‘no intercourse’?” He asked. Sooyoung blushed at that.

“Well... I kinda thought you didn’t mind if we left that rule out from now on,” she said, somewhat shyly.

Sooyoung made a very strong point. Not one he had expected from her, either. Not just the sex rule, but generally. It was necessary to have some control over these things. Minho’s effect on her had become quite apparent. It was sex without consequences, and great sex at that. As a guy, he could relate. But her suggesting to snip that rule seemed so... it was just much more impactful.

“I think you have a point,” He agreed. “It was something that was out of our control, but now that the heat of the moment is over, it makes sense.”

Sooyoung smiled her response, but Hyoseob had a question.

“Just now, you didn’t want to watch the video on the couch. And before, you let Minho do you from behind, something you never let me. Is this a theme I’m sensing? Does Minho get to do stuff that I don’t? Like...” He trailed off, and his eyes shifted, staring intensely into hers.

“Well, yeah...” Sooyoung replied. “Isn’t that what you wanted though?”

Hyoseob gulped, realizing she was right. It was part of it, for him to give her experiences, he never could. He hadn’t thought that would mean ‘experiences he never would’, though perhaps not with such emphasis on ‘never’.

Sooyoung having experiences with others that should have been reserved for her husband, and then denying him the same liberties, was the ultimate tease. Sooyoung’s exploration of her sexuality with men other than him was an incredible thrill.

“I mean, yeah.” He relented and admitted.

“Good,” she purred. “Wanna watch me get fucked from behind?”

Sooyoung wasn’t shy of cursing, but hearing her put it so bluntly, combined with his knowledge that she was going to willingly cheat and break their wedding vows for some kid, sent a sharp heat straight to his balls. He’d never seen his wife like this, and she was irresistible.

“I want everything.” Hyoseob declared.

She giggled at that. She looked amazing. She was absolutely radiant; sexy, confident, and free. Sooyoung looked at him tenderly and lovingly, a sweet, promising look that only served to stir the building excitement and burning arousal.

There were three videos in total. One shorter, and two longer.

“We’ll probably have to save the last one for a rainy day,” she teased sensually in his ear, her hand trailing down onto his slack-covered bulge.

The first one showed Minho’s point of view of Sooyoung on her back, topless and with his massive cock between her breasts. She rubbed them up and down, looking up with desire and lust as his veiny appendage emerged and disappeared between her magnificent bosom. Hyoseob loins flared up as He was able to appreciate the sexual play at such close range and with Sooyoung’s large, firm orbs being groped and abused so well. Minho really knew how to push a woman’s buttons, he thought. It didn’t take long before his semen erupted from its tip, splattering over his wife’s chin, cheeks, and nose...

“He’s so virile... he gets hard again so fast... perks of being a young stud, I guess,” Sooyoung muttered. Hyoseob quickly shoved his pants down so she could get better access to his raging erection.

She was right when she said they’d probably save the last one, because He doubted he’d last all the way through the second video. The one Sooyoung hinted that she got fucked from behind. A view he never had.

Sooyoung clicked the video and resumed stroking him.

The angle on the video showed Sooyoung naked silhouette cascaded by the dimly lit room. Sooyoung, hands against the wall, presenting her fat ass.

“Ohh that looks like an ass that’s had some workouts,” Minho said from behind the phone’s lens.

“Less chatting and more pounding,” Sooyoung’s voice called from the dark.

Minho placed the phone on what Hyoseob guess was a dresser, facing the camera towards the back of his bent-over wife, her perfect figure illuminated perfectly by the nearby light, a tantalizing silhouette that invited and begged to be pounded. Minho’s hulking frame stepped close and shoved himself roughly into her waiting slit.

“Oh... oh-oh!” Sooyoung moaned, her hands suddenly clenching and gripping tighter against the wall, her hips twitching. “Harder. Fuck!” she begged.

Hyoseob turned his eyes from the video screen towards the same body parts, seeing the same hips on the couch next to him that Minho was grasping on the video as he fucked his lovely wife. Sooyoung noticed, her smile deepening. The sound of bodies slapping echoed from the device. Minho growled, grasping her tighter and pulling her to him as his hips rocked and pummeled his wife’s magnificent ass. Sooyoung’s large ass was quivering with the impacts and bounced, the flesh wobbling back and forth hypnotically. Minho fucked her mercilessly, relentlessly, hammering her from behind, but with deliberate purpose. Sooyoung started making a high-pitched sound. He had never seen her so receptive.

“Jesus, you really like that, huh?” Hyoseob breathed. Minho was fucking his wife so roughly.

Sooyoung merely nodded, as if embarrassed, turning her face to hide in the seat cushions. Minho grabbed and pulled her arms, pushing her back against him with a forceful thrust, burying his entire length deep inside her. Sooyoung’s walls trembled around him, squeezing his giant girth, wanting more. Minho eased most of his shaft out before plowing slowly, churning her insides with his cock, giving her a moment of relief. But it was temporary and she shuddered once again, clamping down and throbbing around the huge length.

“Unnnggh- Unnnng- Unnng,” she let out with each long, hard thrust.

Hyoseob’s eyes bulged as he watched his wife cum on another man’s cock, knowing she was experiencing something He could never give her to that extent.

“God! Harder! HARDER!” Sooyoung cried, and just like that Hyoseob came to the sounds of Minho fucking his wife better than He ever could.

“Christ!” the present Sooyoung said, sounding somewhat disgusted as his cum trickled over her hand. “You could’ve said something! I’d gotten a towel!”

Sooyoung rose up and headed off to the nearest bedroom to clean her hand.

—

Sooyoung couldn’t really concentrate the following day. A few times, she caught herself staring off into space, thinking of how nice Minho’s long, thick cock felt when he was on top of her, pummeling her body. But she had to go the entire weekend, and then some, before she could have it again. In her mind, that was simply too long a time to wait to get off like she did last night.

But it wasn’t just sex that had her brain distracted. The conversation with Hyoseob had gotten Sooyoung thinking of all sorts of dirty, taboo ideas. Hyoseob had admitted he liked it when she did things with Minho, such as exploring new things. Giving up some of her firsts for Minho, even. Like doggy, or a fucking her tits. She wasn’t sure what that entailed, or what she could do with that information, but she stored it away in her mind.

Sooyoung spent the rest of the weekend running track, lifting weights, and other physical activities to force her life back into normalcy, in addition to her school work. She decided she didn’t want sex to dictate her life, so while she looked forward to tutoring Minho on Tuesday, she dedicated her time to her life’s chores and commitments.

—

‘What are we doing for the tutoring?’ I texted her when she arrived at school on Monday. ‘Can we meet between classes? I need some help to get my balls drained before class so I can focus ;)’

‘Stop it, Minho,’ was all she replied, feeling a tingle of warmth and arousal ran down her spine nonetheless.

‘I was just kidding’ I replied.

I had responded with some teasing ‘Are you going to be wet on Tuesday’ and ‘Can’t stop thinking about it’ but eventually didn’t push it any further. She would assume I was probably too afraid to scare her off for the upcoming sessions, regardless of how horny I was. But throughout the day, Sooyoung felt increasingly needy herself, unable to resist fantasizing about our upcoming session.

It was hard for her to understand how her student having such a big dick had her so riled up... though some of my otherworldly skill probably had something to do with it. In addition to my prowess, I had been respectful. She supposed not every boy would have behaved so well and been so understanding, even if I relentlessly teased her for doing far more than the rules allowed.

Though my skill in the bedroom, the only reason Sooyoung would ever return to me was the thrill and pleasure it gave her husband. Hyoseob loved the humiliation of someone like me enjoying his wife, and her doing things with me that she would rarely, if ever, do with her husband.

Like allowing my cock between her tits. Or how I made her orgasm like a slutty nympho just by fucking her in a position she wouldn’t normally allow. All of this, combined with the non-committal, almost primal pleasure, made the whole experience tantalizing. It certainly was a lifestyle Sooyoung could learn to enjoy, if she didn’t already.

“Wait up, Ma’am,” I called to her after school as she was heading to her car. She crossed her arms, unintentionally revealing her generous cleavage.

“What is it?” Sooyoung asked, ignoring her sudden nervous excitement. She hoped I wouldn’t put her in such an awkward position out in the open.

I went to the same school where she worked, so we were bound to run into each other. However, it did not make it any less awkward. Even though no one was particularly close, there were still a lot of people around. I leaned against her car, and she leaned back against the same vehicle to play it casual. Just some teacher talking to some pupil. Nothing suspicious about two young adults standing next to her vehicle talking to one another, right?

“What did you want to talk about, Minho?” she repeated.

“So about tomorrow... just what should I expect? You know, for the tutoring,” I said, attempting to stall the conversation. I looked over her with a mischievous glint. Sooyoung’s heart raced, unsure whether she should regret this situation or revel in it.

“If you’re here early, maybe we can just fu-”

“Not today,” Sooyoung said with an all too friendly smirk as she casually pushed herself off the car, trying to end the conversation. “And no more about doing stuff between classes.”

I scoffed and began rubbing my bulge. She frowned, and as my smirk lingered, her gaze was drawn downward.

“H-hey!” she stammered, taking a step away. “That’s hardly appropriate. Especially with students walking by,” she hissed. Sooyoung wanted nothing more than to reach over and grab my cock, squeeze that long, veiny piece of flesh she loved so much.

“Well, when else should I talk to you about it?” I chuckled, taking the same step she had, closing the gap between us.

“You could’ve just texted like you usually do... but fine, hop in and I’ll drive you home. We can talk about it on the way,” She relented, trying to shut me up before anyone noticed and hoping to keep the conversation focused on the actual tutoring. “Now knock it off,” she finished.

I smiled proudly as I entered the passenger side. Sooyoung rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan before getting into the car with me, pushing thoughts away and putting the vehicle in gear.

We talked about the tutoring and homework and stayed relatively cordial the rest of the ride, with only a few irrelevant comments from my part because I couldn’t help but admire her tits and ass.

“So, do you ever teach in class? Like theory or whatever?” I asked.

“Pff, just how much do you skip, Minho?” Sooyoung laughed. “Yeah, sometimes. Usually, around football season so any day now. I even have my own classroom.”

“You gonna tutor me on that stuff eventually?” I asked.

“If you think you have use for it,” She replied. “I have booked the classroom a few times this semester for your actual tutorage, in fact.”

“Oh I’d love to have you in a classroom,” I teased. She looked over, amused, and wondered what I would do with such an opportunity.

“Would you want a private lesson, Mister? Detention maybe?” Sooyoung teased back.

“Oh please, Mrs. Sooyoung, I didn’t mean to pass my paper, could you give me an oral exam? To see if I deserve extra credit?” I grinned.

Sooyoung laughed pulling up at her house. “Then I think you’re in luck,” she said, turning the car into her driveway and switching the engine off. “Jokes aside, we can’t fool around at the school... not more than we already did anyway,” she said, not able to conceal a smirk at the memory.

“You mean to tell me you and Hyoseob never done anything naughty at school?” I replied.

“None of your business, and don’t you try any funny ideas there either.” Sooyoung glared at me. I raised my hands defensively, “Alright, alright.”

As I walked her to her door, my eyes lingered down to her breasts and ass. Sooyoung opened the door and turned to me. “See you tomorrow, then?” she asked.

I smirked as my gaze traced her body. From her big cleavage strutting out in front of her, to her waist and down to her wide childbearing hips, my eyes feasted on her, while she tried her best to ignore the reaction her body had.

“Damn, Sooyoung,” I sighed. She blushed and smiled up at me. “Your ass was so hot, stretching and jiggling as you got out of the car. Wish I had recorded that instead.”

“Glad you were entertained,” Sooyoung retorted.

We stood there in the doorway for a few moments, staring at one another. Sooyoung was waiting for me to leave, and I was ogling her body and thinking God knows what. Sooyoung looked stunning, especially given that her work attire frequently consisted of tight-fitting workout clothes. Tight shirts, shorts, or yoga pants, with a sweater tied around her waist. A bit lewd, maybe, but she wore it flawlessly. Sporty and sexy all in one package.

“You leaving?” Sooyoung inquired, ignoring my leering.

“When is Hyoseob coming home?” I asked.

“In about two hours, why? We’re not-” Sooyoung tried to say something, but I interrupted her by pushing her inside and closing the door behind her. Sooyoung stumbled backward, her mind reeling from the forwardness.

“We are not doing this,” Sooyoung said, though with much less vigour as my hands gripped her fat ass, making her gulp hard. My tongue trailed from her earlobe up to her ear. “Minho, please,” Sooyoung pleaded.

My hands ran down from her wide hips, fingers pressing against the hem of her tights. Sooyoung shuddered in an oh-so-delicious anticipation as she realized how badly she’d longed for my touch these past days. Sooyoung realized she had subconsciously chosen to wear an outfit just for me. To tempt and agitate me. She wanted my warm embrace and confident assertiveness. She wanted my greedy lust to break her body and willpower, only to be soothed by my caring patience, stamina, and thickness.

“Bedroom?” I asked, eager to sink my cock in this lovely, formerly faithful wife.

“Yeah...” Sooyoung answered breathlessly, her pussy wet and her cheeks flushed red as she was powerless to resist me, so powerfully she wished I’d bend her over, rip off her tight-fitting garments and-

“Sooyoung? Are you back?” Hyoseob’s voice cut in through the silence, right at that moment.

“Hyoseob! Why’re you home so early? I thought you were staying at the office all day for your important deadline!” Sooyoung answered nervously, fidgeting with the front door for me to get out, looking as Hyoseob came out from the kitchen.

“Eh, they cancelled the deadline; was a miscommunication with the client, and a chance for me to… Sooyoung, what is going on?” He didn’t sound angry, but he had every right to be. Sooyoung was in the process of breaking the rules again, and probably several of them. She had no mind to record it, as it was full steam ahead.

“Well, what do we have here,” Hyoseob scolded playfully. He approached, inspecting her up-and-down as he circled Sooyoung and I, now somewhat frozen from the sudden shock.

“You’re a sight to see, baby,” he murmured and stood before us. “But not what I expected to come crashing through the door,” Hyoseob continued, “but I understand the appeal.”

He smiled as his wife’s mouth bobbed up and down with no words emerging. Her words were caught in her throat before she eventually found her voice.

“Don’t be upset babe, we were talking... then... I mean,” Sooyoung stuttered.

“Relax, I’m not angry,” Hyoseob assured. “Why should I be? Look, it is pretty hot to see you almost fall over, all stunned and panting at Minho.”

A nervous, giddy chuckle erupted from Sooyoung. She licked her lips and blinked slowly.

“Sorry to barge in like this,” I stated, my grip on Sooyoung’s waist still. “Just thought...”

“You’d fuck my wife?” Hyoseob replied.

“Listen, I’ll just leave,” I said.

“Leave?” Hyoseob asked in mock surprise, smiling coyly. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve started it. You can’t stop now.”

“Okay?” I breathed.

“Hey, this is my chance to watch it live. Consider it another hall pass,” Hyoseob said.

Sooyoung didn’t think they’d do any more hall passes, especially so soon after her last one, but she wasn’t going to argue, instead turning around and pressing her round butt against my bulge. I smirked, pressing back, reaching up to the rim of her short shirt, tracing the fabric, and skimming my fingers against the hem of her spandex tights, which I began rolling down her hips.

“Wait,” Sooyoung said. “Didn’t you say something about a bedroom?” she added, meeting Hyoseob’s stare. His eyes widened. ‘That’s right, I’m taking him to our marital bed,’ Sooyoung thought as she looked at her husband. If he was so accepting, let’s see how far he’d let her take it.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me upstairs. She was powerless to stop herself now that she had free reign and was absolutely in heat; she needed to be fuck senseless like the horny slut she’d become, right in her and her husband’s marital bed, with her husband watching no less. Sooyoung entered the bedroom and stood by the footboard, pulling me in behind.

“Lay on your back,” I told her. “I wanna see those huge tits jiggle as I stretch out your pussy,” I added.

Sooyoung didn’t respond, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling even hotter from hearing the lewd order. She laid down, ready and wanting. She heard the sound of their breathing, mixed with Hyoseob’s, who silently sat watching on a chair off to the side.

I began stripping off, her gaze fixed on my body. It seemed like an eternity since we’d had each other. She had to admit her disappointment at having her fun cut short. But hopefully, we’d have a lot more time and wouldn’t have to rush or wait for Hyoseob’s arrival.

I moved closer to her, climbing onto the bed until my cock was above her face. A shiver went through her. Sooyoung laid down, extending a hand to wrap around my hovering girth. I chuckled as her soft grip met mine, her fingertips barely touching on both sides. My foreskin was tight and firm over the bulging cockhead, with a wispy cum beading on the slit. She raised her head, extending her neck, and touched my tip with her tongue, her eyes closed and breathing heavily. The wet tongue licked the bead, and she salivated at the unpleasant taste. She was in disbelief about her own actions, doing something so dirty with someone other than her husband. The shame fueled her even more, but she couldn’t push herself any further than this. She lowered her head back on the pillow, allowing the thick piece to hang in front of her, dragging along her chin and grazing over her tits, drooling even more heavily as it made its way, coating the firm boobs and pebbled nipples.

Sooyoung looked up to see me looking down at her, a smirk flashing across my coarse features. Sooyoung understood what I was looking for, what I desired. Despite her embarrassment, Sooyoung was hungry for my dick after tasting the copious amounts of delicious delight I could provide her with. However, as I climbed down her body, I did not align my cock with her. No, I wanted to show Hyoseob how much better I was without even using my cock, so I sunk down the married couple’s marital bed and buried my head between her flawless thighs.

“Oh god,” Sooyoung mumbled in pent-up anticipation for the oncoming onslaught.

Hyoseob sat in a chair in the corner of his own bedroom, watching me sink my head between his wife’s spread legs, obscuring his view of her dripping entrance. It was a hard feat to understand how well Sooyoung responded to my touches. It wrecked him as much as it aroused him, and witnessing the events before him was the worst kind of train carnage he couldn’t pull his eyes from.

“Oh- Ohhh,” Hyoseob heard his wife moan, a deep, almost painful groan escaping from her chest. His dick stirred when he saw her lost in pleasure. Her knees were drawn in the air, and her heels were sliding down my wide back, pushing her pelvis forward and mashing her opening against my tongue. His sexy prideful wife was being ravaged by one of her students. Right in front of him.

Sooyoung began panting as her hands took hold of my head, entangling her fingers in my hair and ensuring my face remained rooted in place as I tongue fucked her sopping, hungry pussy. my hands gripped this wife’s athletic thighs as she ground against mine, the bed creaking and rocking in the process. Sooyoung reached back with one arm, holding onto the headboard, while her other kept my head pressed in tightly, her jaw jutted out and her eyes focused.

I worked her like a pro. With each twitch and whimper, labored groan, and gasping squeak, I reacted accordingly, guiding her into a boiling heat that was gradually building in her core, until my skilled tongue finally broke her open, sending her shuddering into an explosive orgasm that drenched my tongue in her juices.

I knew right away that Sooyoung and her husband had never done or come close to accomplishing anything like this before. Nothing in our long sexual history compared.

“Fuck! How...” Sooyoung groaned as her convulsions subsided. She drew her arm back and lay there exhausted, my lips smirking against her sticky thighs.

My cock hadn’t gotten the pleasure it craved, and the impatience was evident in the rigid shaft. I was tall and proud on my knees above her. Sooyoung turned her head, realizing that my cock had not only missed her, but also been neglected. My thick piece had bobbed and bounced, waving and whipping in the air, and landing all over their sheets. I chuckled as the disheveled teacher regained her composure.

“Fuck, Minho, how’d you get so good at that?” She sighed as her fingers and gaze moved down my body. “It’s crazy how fast you can get me off, it’s unfair.”

“Had plenty of practice,” I told her.

“Yeah? With who?”

“Minju, Hana, Sujin, Eunha, so on,” Minho bragged.

“Eunha? Our neighbor?” Sooyoung asked.

It wasn’t typical of her to be so nosy, but Hyoseob could tell, my already extensive experience interested her. Meanwhile, He sat, enraged and jealous. Not only did I get to fuck his wife, but I also had free access to every teen girl in the neighborhood.

“This dirty cock has been in a lot of dirty places, then,” Sooyoung purred while stroking my cock between her legs, enticed by my obscenities. Hyoseob was taken aback by how hot she was, not just because I was in front of her, but also because she was so responsive to it. This was a very different Sooyoung, one who clearly enjoyed the experience and knowledge one had to offer, he thought.

“Turn over,” I instructed, “Get on your hands and knees for me.”

“God, yes,” Sooyoung hissed.

And just like that she was on all fours, knees far apart, her tight entrance exposed, wet, and more than ready. That big sexy ass I could fondle and worship for hours strutted out for mine to feast. I noticed her shaking from anticipation, the pleasurable experience in her pussy still burning and spreading like wildfire, warming her entire body from the inside out.

“Yesss...” she groaned as my cock head settled down against her outer lips, coating the bottom in her leaking juices. It was a hell of a tease.

“Unnh! Minho, come on. Just... FUCK ME!” Sooyoung begged.

“What’s that? What is it that you want?” I teased.

“Please.” Sooyoung inhaled sharply. “I want you!”

“If I fuck you, and I’m not your husband, what does that make him?” I teased, nodding in Hyoseob’s direction.

“A cuck-UGH!” Sooyoung groaned out as I started to push my cock inside her unfaithful hole, taking control.

I fully leaned over her and crawled my hands around and under her, getting ahold of her full tits, cock lodged deep within her as I mounted her. “That’s what I thought,” I muttered, before starting my slow pace.

Hyoseob’s dick throbbed wildly. What could He say about such a display? It was unlike anything he could have imagined or experienced. His own wife was having the time of her life right in front of him, and with someone else, not to mention, her student. He’d never seen her so hot.

“Minho! You’re so BIG. Fuck me!” she moaned, in complete surrender and acceptance of a situation.

“Damn, you are tight... i can’t believe how fucking tight you are!” I pounded her harder. The bed creaked rhythmically in tune with my hips snapping against her big ass.

The bedroom echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, and the wife’s moan rang in his ears. Hyoseob could hear our breathing become heavier as I brought her to climax again. Sooyoung’s breath caught in her throat for a moment before she cried out in delight as I fucked her straight through her orgasm without mercy.

“Like that, Hyoseob?” I taunted him over the moans and whimpers that his lovely wife couldn’t restrain. “Like watching me make your wife cum?!” I asked.

It wasn’t the first time Hyoseob saw Sooyoung do sex acts he’d always fantasized about, but seeing live in front of him was both magnificent and terrifying, given that he couldn’t ever be the one to do those things with her. Or perhaps the only difference between my cock and him was that I knew how to please her far better than her husband could.

“Like to see me breaking your wife? Defiling your wife in your-fucking-bed?” I groaned, thrusting firm and hard. “I’ll never grow tired of a pussy like this! Never! What a fucking MILF!”

Sooyoung was so into it, fully submerging in the wild ride I was giving her. I wasn’t holding back, giving her the kind of rough treatment that no one else could give. That only I could. That her husband certainly couldn’t. Her insides wrapped around mine like a fist as I pummeled her from behind.

I gave Sooyoung long, deliberate, penetrating, slow, torturous thrusts before pounding her hard and deep, letting my cock bury its enormous mass inside. Her huge breasts, undulating back and forth on the surface, would slide a little, causing her hard nipples to briefly rub the fabric.

“He’s fucking me so hard, Hyoseob,” Sooyoung whimpered. “This is all your fault!”

“Holy shit,” He muttered.

“I’d never fuck this shithead if you hadn’t pushed for this!” Sooyoung cried.

“Oh god,” Hyoseob groaned, feeling his impending orgasm rise and then subside as he forced himself to stop jerking.

“Unnh-NNH! MINHO!”

“Tell him how deep my cock is going inside this sweet married pussy. How it stretches you,” I teased.

“Minho, uggh- your cuh-cuh-cocks SO DEEP! Fuck me harder... faster. My pussy is a-and, I need you t-to fuuuck-AAAA.” Sooyoung was incoherent as she exploded. Her body collapsed underneath me as her arms and elbows gave out from my force.

I’m panting profusely and abruptly pulling out of Sooyoung. “Get in there,” I instructed, getting out of bed.

Sooyoung rolled onto her back, allowing Hyoseob to climb between her thighs and eagerly plunge himself between us. The contrast was noticeable. He struggled to fill her with his own member, just as I did. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close as we rutted together.

“Feels really nice,” Sooyoung assured him earnestly, panting into his ear, but his depraved brain refused to believe her, unable to shake the fact that she had just been fucked hard, pounded deep, and railed thoroughly by someone much bigger.

“Shit... you’re so much looser,” Hyoseob said bluntly. Sooyoung closed her eyes, enjoying his body and ignoring what he had just said. She let out a series of pants and groans, but was lacking. I had really stretched her. He just hoped it didn’t mean that his relationship with his wife had changed.

“Oh god, keep doing it!” Sooyoung gasped and groaned beneath her husband, writhing her body as the waves of pleasure crashed into her. She writhed and contorted in front of him, receiving his shallow thrusts with relative ease.

But her orgasm never came. She panted and bucked against him, but the friction just wasn’t there enough to bring her over the edge. Hyoseob didn’t think Sooyoung realized it, but He wasn’t enough anymore. Not anymore. Not after being taken so far, stretched out, and then slammed, with so much weight and girth. It made a huge difference. She clenched hard around him but didn’t get it where she wanted. She needed something more than him.

The realization burned through him and almost made him cum right away, but instead, Hyoseob felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I’m going back in,” I smirked. “I’ll take care of it.”

I pushed him away and crawled back between Sooyoung’s thighs, forcing him to sit back and jerk off while he watched his wife being fucked by another guy. I don’t think Sooyoung noticed his withdrawal, especially since I reinserted my cock inside her. Sooyoung threw her head back and let out a howl. I picked up right away, maintaining the exact same pace of deep, hard strokes inside of her.

Hyoseob felt hurt being forced to climb back to the chair in the corner, hearing how much Sooyoung enjoys someone else more than him, but at the same time, he felt an intense arousal of humiliation to witness this sight. The way I’m dominantly forcing myself inside her lovely wife, pinning her in place and rekindling her pleasure. She cried for more.

“Take my cock! Take it like a slut!” I kept going.

“Uhnnnh... feels soooo gooood,” Sooyoung panted, clawing and pulling.

I paused just long enough to grab Sooyoung’s wrists and pin them above her head, taking on a male dominant position of ownership. As a bull over his cow, or in this case, a stud mounting his breeding mare. Hyoseob thought back to their lives together, him and Sooyoung. Everything they had experienced together, it all leading to her get fucked by another man.

She arched her back and pressed her breasts against my chest, squirming under me as the heat built up again, more and more, until, with the clench and tingle of pleasure in the stomach and thighs, Sooyoung lost herself in an orgasm, feeling an enormous pressure rising, climbing up from the depths of her pussy, pushing upwards, stretching. Sooyoung squirmed beneath my dominance, gasping, unable to grasp reality as every cell in her body became electrified in response to my hard pummeling.

I then slowed down, letting Sooyoung come down, sinking my lips against hers, and we began to kiss intimately.

“Minho...” She whispered in a raspy voice, gazing into mine.

Sooyoung could hardly speak. She tried, but the words fell short and were barely audible, a quiet and excited stuttering, but as the fog lifted and reality returned, and she started to remember the moment, her tone shifted. Her voice grew stronger, more aware of her situation. “Fuck...” she continued in a less reverent whisper. “Jesus Christ, what is going on...”

“Well... we’re cucking your husband,” I said bluntly.

“Are you mad? Am I in trouble?”

Sooyoung let out a giggle and let me drop my head to her neck, causing her giggle to turn into a moan as I began licking her soft skin while humping her womb.

“Are you going to talk?” I breathed, my full cock sinking slowly into her. “Come on. “Let him hear.”

“Oh my g-uuuh.” Sooyoung trailed off, the words cut off, distracted by massive tool filling her up, touching her walls.

“Now tell me again. Tell him, the reason you have allowed me to defile you,” I teased, not relenting my pace, while whispering in her ear.

“Ohhh,” Sooyoung moaned, shivering, clutching my muscles. Sooyoung whimpered, gritting her teeth to her effort. But not responding was beyond impossible. She had never felt so full.

“Your husbands’ too tiny, isn’t he?” I egged her on.

“My husband is great, I swear, but you’re so big and he’s not,” Sooyoung got out, my fat cock-head poking into her, brushing into a particularly sensitive spot in the inner wall.

“That’s right,” I said with satisfied smirk.

“Ohh!” Sooyoung groaned.

“That’s why you needed to cuck your husband.”

“God Minho...” Sooyoung moaned.

“Just answer.”

“Yes,” Sooyoung blurted out. “My husband is great, I promise- oh my! But he couldn’t fulfill all my needs, my cravings.” Sooyoung paused and closed her eyes. I slowed down because I didn’t want her orgasm to take her away just yet. “That’s why, fuck, I needed you here. So you could give me what I really needed.”

Sooyoung returned my gaze, a loving, heated expression on her face. I kissed her, pressing our lips and tongues together. And we resumed our fucking, moaning together and filling the bedroom with the sounds of flesh slapping, groans, and grunts.

Hyoseob raised his hand to stroke himself, rubbing his dick furiously. His body and mind were filled with emotions and stress. Sooyoung hadn’t been lying about his size, and watching how I held nothing back as my thick meat began stretching his wife again, plunging into her over and over... He had no idea how we were doing it; with our perfect fit, it must have felt like heaven. His eyes burned with a desire to break down. He is unsure whether he is feeling shame, happiness, anger, or passion. He closed his eyes for a second to concentrate on his wife’s agonizing moans and the obscene slick sounds of her being pounded so deliciously and thoroughly.

“Hyoseob, watch me make your wife cum again,” I said.

He could only nod and bite down his own moans, proving my statement correct. The display in front of him became more and more lewd and heated as she moved her mouth to my ears and allowed me to feel her warm breath, while our hips went insane, slamming into her like a high-powered machine.

“You want it,” I told her.

“Ah! Ah! Uuungh,” Sooyoung got out, a half groan, half whisper.

“Oh yes you do. Cum on my cock!” I commanded.

“Minho...” Sooyoung moaned in her raspy voice.

“Don’t bother to fight it, Ma’am.”

“Minho I’m so close, I’m going crazy here, just take my womb.”

I pummeled down deep, thrusting firmly and keeping my base flush. Sooyoung’s hips rose from the sheets and began bucking upward, meeting my heavy thrusts. Our speed increased together. “Minho!” she kept saying my name like a mantra. Sooyoung grunted as I pushed deeper inside of her. She had to scream as I kept my promise.

“Okay,” Sooyoung hissed after an eternity.

I smiled and slid off of her. Sooyoung leaned back into the mattress and spread her legs, arching her hips, watching as my cock come out covered in our collective fluids, thick, sticky, and white. It was hard to comprehend that all that had been inside her, and even more was still spilling out. It was so thick and creamy.

“I haven’t cum this hard since forever,” Sooyoung moaned.

“You did amazing. I can’t wait for a lot more,” I told Sooyoung.

“Yee-ees, me too, baby.” Sooyoung wrapped her arms and legs around me and kissed me eagerly as her eyes flashed towards her husband, a little unsure, maybe even scared, her glance uncertain, her pupils wide, and then she just looked straight at him.

“You okay, Hyoseob?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah... just hard to get over how much of that got in you,” Hyoseob said, laughing. While his expression was undoubtedly one of shock, he was actually doing more than fine. Watching his wife pleasured by another man is an image that will stay with him forever, and the experience left him oddly satisfied. It almost made him happy that she had gotten to experience something like this.

“Well, anyway,” I said, standing up. “I am drained. And we’re not in a real session, so I’m heading out.”

“Sure thing,” Sooyoung said. “And the session tomorrow? Let’s... Let’s put that one on hold for now, okay? We need a bit... a bit of control, I think.”

I nodded and began to dress up. It was reassuring when Sooyoung, the smart person she was, took the steering wheel. When the dust settled, she still considered her husband’s turmoil. Hyoseob was probably complacent enough for us to do more, but Sooyoung was probably right in pulling on the emergency brakes.

“So,” Sooyoung turned to Hyoseob after I left. “Wow, huh.”

He simply nodded, trying to process the event that had transpired. Sooyoung got up and moved in beside him.

“What just happened?” He asked, dumfounded.

“Well, we cucked you,” Sooyoung said, studying his expression as she waited for his reaction to her words. “Was it too much?”

“I... think so. I’m glad you got to experience it... but watching it in front of me was a bit much, perhaps.” He explained to her. “Like, yeah, you’re hot as hell. This entire event is extremely hot, and seeing another man fuck you so well is quite thrilling. But hearing you moan and say all of that... it was almost too much for me. I’m not sure if I can handle seeing it live... especially since he asked me to join in...”

Sooyoung nodded understanding. “So you think we should move on from this whole thing?”

“No! No, I love it. It makes it harder for me to return to the same things later,” he laughed. Sooyoung also giggled. “No, I’m all on for it still, but I think we need a cooling period,” he replied. “At the very least, I participated in real life... However, the videos are quite good.

“Sure thing,” Sooyoung said, with a warm, understanding smile. “And I won’t do anything until you’re ready for it to continue. If ever. I only enjoy this if you enjoy it.”

“You’d do that?” He asked. “Despite everything?”

“Of course... I know I failed before, but I would try with all my might. I don’t want to risk everything for something like that, and honestly, I don’t think Minho would either.”

They linger like that for a bit.

“Sooyoung, can I ask you something?” Hyoseob started. Sooyoung nodded. “Why is it so different? I mean, aside from the obvious physical things. You’re so much wilder with Minho.”

“Aside from how his bigger size just hits differently?” Sooyoung asked, shooting him a smirk, which He returned. “Well... I don’t know. Honestly, maybe it was always there, I just never brought it out. The raw physical aspect. And with Minho it is just that, so much more raw and physical action. I don’t love him, nowhere close, and I don’t think for a second he loves me. And for women sex and emotions are entwined and psychological. With Minho, there is no relationship like that, so it’s purely physical. It’s like I can let go more, if that makes sense. Have good sex with no repercussions, if that also makes sense.”

Hyoseob paused for a few seconds. “I guess that makes sense, yeah. When did you get so smart?” He joked.

“Shut up,” Sooyoung said, slapping his chest. “So everything okay? Anything more you wanna ask, because I want to answer everything you want to know as far as I can.”

“No, I think I’m good. Let’s put a breather on this whole thing then take it from there.”

“Okay, got it,” Sooyoung said with a smile, wrapping a hand around his husband, and cuddling into him as she laid her head on his chest. He placed an arm on her shoulder and held her close, her soft boobs pressing against him. The cuddle made them fall asleep, together, exhausted from the day’s adventure.

#joy smut #park sooyoung smut #red velvet smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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kamaluhkhan · 8 months

Text

GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)

read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)

summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.

warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡

author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex)

if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you.

no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.

you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not.

you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.

everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp.

and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.

you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld.

you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do.

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it.

you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost —

the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing.

your eyelids fluttered open.

it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.

standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan.

he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.

"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.

lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury.

"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”

you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him.

lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room.

“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.”

“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.”

he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones.

you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.

“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”

luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.

“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?”

clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“what are you doing here?” he practically growled.

“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”

at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with.

it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess.

needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend.

but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you.

“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia.

even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more.

“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”

“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.”

clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.

“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned.

“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.

“are you feeling okay?”

“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.

a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.

“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”

you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence.

when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.

it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay.

manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal.

despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.

“luke.”

for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.

he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him.

you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin.

“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”

you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh.

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?”

luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too.

you gripped his wrist to steady him.

“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours.

“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”

“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”

he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close.

“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you.

you refused to lose hope.

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.

“but —”

“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?”

as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action.

chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.

luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.

you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.

after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.

“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth.

you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.

“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier.

no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it.

you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him.

when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering.

“thanks, karma.”

you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin.

“what happened? did clarisse —”

“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied.

you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.

“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”

“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile.

it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher.

fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family.

the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family.

you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you.

the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin.

(ii. he had an ego)

according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.

she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.”

annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast.

"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive."

"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate.

"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight."

you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.

“nice work, rodriguez.”

"we're going out tonight?"

you pressed your knee to luke's under the table.

"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate."

so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed.

there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol.

"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!"

everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks.

the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.

for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.

there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends — the people you loved — had beat the odds.

so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental?

beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out.

under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones.

whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire.

“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.

his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips.

to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since.

not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric.

you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.

so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music.

after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.

“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”

“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.

it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core.

“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”

“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”

your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon.

the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.

and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.

you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right?

luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something.

maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it.

before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?

luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more.

you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at.

“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.

silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink.

“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”

“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”

“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.

“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10 denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”

“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.”

you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry.

“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip.

“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen.

“well, we aren’t.”

that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner.

“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.

suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier.

“i am not a coward.”

without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you.

part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat.

“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea.

“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?”

someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger.

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.”

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”

“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.

the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.

“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.

"i don't owe you anything."

"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.

you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.

“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”

“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”

his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —

you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.

“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady.

it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender.

“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”

you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix.

“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.”

“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted.

you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process.

you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you.

he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends.

“see what i mean?”

“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”

oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….

“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded.

“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.”

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."

rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.

you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire.

“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk.

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?”

“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”

you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”

“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”

he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night.

“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”

“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.”

luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe.

“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.”

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."

"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too."

"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?"

luke turned towards the exit.

"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?"

luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."

his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker.

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere.

he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.

when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura.

ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin.

you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother.

“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”

“actually, we were just —”

“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning.

“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance.

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed.

once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly.

“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.

“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”

you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.

“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained.

“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”

you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend.

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?”

clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style.

you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:

luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”

“we all are,” you pointed out.

“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”

you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it.

“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile.

“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?”

you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.

at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.

he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?

you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.

(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)

it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.

it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend.

luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic.

you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through.

no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same.

that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous.

“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?”

“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin."

"that’s only if we get caught."

luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.

it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much.

zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.

"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.

you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.

it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming. the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.

luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.

he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your cum.

"yes, sweetheart?"

“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned.

once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.

“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you.

“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away.

you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”

“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.

you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. you had a favorite, too — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.

if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it.

“eyes up here, beautiful.”

when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.

“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

“yes,” you finally answered. "please."

luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin.

after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard, to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too.

there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.

you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit.

“do you see my shirt there?”

luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:

“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”

you placed your hands on his cheeks.

“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.

but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you.

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine.

“if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”

luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you.

“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”

“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke.

thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second.

you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.

“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”

“sparring?”

“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”

“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”

“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”

you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted.

“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.

“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”

as if either of you could forget marathoning entire seasons of buffy the vampire slayer on dvds rented from the nearest video store. you'd watch episode after episode with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.

zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.

luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.

luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.

“easy there, angel,” you referenced, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck.

you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen. "how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

“you won’t.”

“i'm the lucky one." a shadow passed over luke's face, and you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips. “i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing.

for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.

you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.

the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?

he was the one you were irrevocably in love with.

except your life wasn't some neatly written, scripted coming-of-age story about fictional vampires and slayers.

it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late.

(v. he made you look so naive)

there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.

yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous.

luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die.

you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.

dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.

“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, moreso than usual.

you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left.

“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.

you narrowed your eyes at him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly.

a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath.

“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”

“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”

your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.

you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.

because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?

luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.

you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)

the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums.

it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.

you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp.

but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup.

sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life.

you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with.

you missed —

no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore.

you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds.

before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse.

and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”

ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday.

i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken.

i can’t stand to hear your name

you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you.

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up.

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed.

as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.

those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded.

so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light.

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends.

as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor.

“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”

“because i’m alone.”

“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”

after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about.

luke tried again.

“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.”

you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him.

“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.

“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt.

you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip.

“no. you don’t get to just —”

the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.

“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?”

“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”

his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness.

she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.

“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded.

“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”

stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing.

“great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”

you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise.

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.

“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”

“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”

“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”

luke stared at you. you glared back at him.

“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension.

you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away.

“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”

“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”

kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”

baby. you could have laughed.

“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed.

“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”

“that’s not my home.”

out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time.

you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes.

luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.

you stepped in front of luke.

“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”

kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws.

“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards.

you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again.

again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break.

it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of.

you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife.

you were definitely out of practice.

“kelli!”

you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.

“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.

you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other.

luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.

“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.

“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.”

to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.

“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”

“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.

the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled.

“okay, we need to get you —”

“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced.

the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.

“i don’t need your help,” you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”

you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.

“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”

“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”

“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”

looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped.

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”

luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”

you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home.

(vii. he loved you — and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)

your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.

“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”

you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid kit.

luke knelt down in front of you.

“can i take your shirt off?”

you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar.

there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.

at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too.

what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.

and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

“wait. what happened?”

“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.

“luke.”

“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”

kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember.

wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him.

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded.

the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.

like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.

“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.

our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that.

“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”

you couldn’t help but add that last part.

“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle.

you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.

it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream.

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less.

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head.

"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."

"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking.

"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze."

"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat."

you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.

the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee.

you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.

luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.

"yeah?"

"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.

"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."

"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here."

you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything.

you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions.

once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.

"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.

"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”

you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”

luke caught your wrist before you could leave.

“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….”

his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.

“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”

“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”

something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:

“i’ll do it.”

before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.

neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him.

the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.

once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.

“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.

“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.

you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.

the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.

you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.

you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed.

neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet….

part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end.

luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.

what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —

you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.

luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.

“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.”

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along.

“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”

“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”

it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest.

how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on.

just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.

another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned.

“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”

luke swallowed thickly.

you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.

it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice.

“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”

“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate.

he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes.

“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.

luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him.

“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.

you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.

“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone.

luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:

“you’re such a —”

you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.

you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.

in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek.

“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed.

slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too.

sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.

you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some.

“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out.

what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out.

there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your skin encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.

when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines.

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.

luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached.

you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.

yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.

you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.

“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again. “i missed you so fucking much.”

luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same.

it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.

you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:

“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”

you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”

“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest.

you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.

“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.

you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.

“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”

maybe that was true.

in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge, regardless of who your mother is. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice.

deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?

“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago.

"i guess not."

you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.

"how's your shoulder?"

"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you."

those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.

you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle.

matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other.

"i love you too.”

at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.

maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.

luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.

you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.

#i haven't seen the finale but from the gifs my heart is already broken #and here i am breaking it more <3 #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #saf writes #Spotify #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo show #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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trivia-yandere · 9 months

Text

fixation

a look into where it all began with jungkook and how much he loves having his lips on you… @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom

warning: step-sibling relationship, coercion, oral sex, slight yandere behavior, manipulation, nipple sucking, dry humping/grinding, fingering,

word count: 4.639

series masterlist

You’ve known Jeon Jungkook since you were a child - 10 years of age. Your father had brought his mother - a beautiful woman, you’d admit, and her son over for dinner one night while you stayed the weekend with him. “Y/N, this is Jungkook.” you recall your father speaking, his hands upon Jungkook’s shoulders. You were seated at the dining table when the two of them arrived. “He’s going to be your brother.”

Jungkook acted the part - even if the two of you were the same age - as the annoying brother. You could also blame your 10 year old self, as well, for how you acted. You were an only child - a girl, at that - and finally, your father had a son. He and Jungkook watched sports together and went to games often. They would go fishing and when you came on the weekend, you’d hear Jungkook brag about it constantly.

But even if your father now had a son, Jungkook’s mother had a daughter. She enjoyed doing your hair the best she could and attempting to go places with you that she could only dream a mother and daughter duo would go - but that never angered Jungkook as much as it angered you that he was with your father.

“It's just a little sibling rivalry.” your father said to Jungkook’s mother - now his wife - when you and Jungkook were attending middle school. Jungkook was new to your school and yet, he excelled. He had more friends than you and charted the highest scores - the two of you being tied academically.

Every worry Jungkook’s mother had was brushed off by your father. “They act just like siblings.” he’d say with a laugh whenever you and Jungkook bickered over everything - and nothing. You dreaded going to your fathers on the weekends because that meant that you’d have to see and deal with Jungkook entirely - and he was nothing but a pain in the ass.

High School was the same, the only difference was the change in appearances. Jungkook grew overnight it seems and his high voice deepened. He worked out more due to him playing sports and that also meant his body changed, as well.

“That’s your brother?!” a friend said with wide eyes when Jungkook had given you a sideways hug (a rule he had broken just to piss you off) and said: “Dad wants us to ride home together.”

And from that moment, you were Jungkook’s sister - not Y/N, but Jeon fucking Jungkook’s sister and you suspected he did it purposely.

And Jungkook had - something he’d never admit to you. Just as his body developed in High School, so has yours and by senior year you were the talk of the boys locker room (as were most senior girls). “Y/N’s ass is amazing.” one boy had said as he walked in, his eyes focused down the hall where Jungkook assumed you were standing. “She has the perfect hips.”

“Her lips are good, too.” said another boy. “I just know she knows how to suck-”

“That’s my sister.” Jungkook deadpanned, his eyes narrow at the boys who immediately silence their crude talk about you.

A side of Jungkook told himself that he respected you as his (step) sister and didn’t like the filthy thoughts coming from others. But then there was the side of him that he wanted to bury away that agreed with them.

Jungkook had noticed that same day how your hips were nice and your ass was amazing. As you and he walked out of school together that Friday, he noticed as you sat in his car (a gift from your father since Jungkook had gotten his license before you) that your lips were good. You were coating them with gloss, eyes focused on the mirror to not mess anything up.

Once these thoughts were there, they weren’t going away; as disgusting as it was.

You were his (step) sister and Jungkook had respect for you - even if the two of you fought constantly. You appeared to dislike him as a whole as you grew older and of course, he’d tease you and say it was because he was better than you at everything - but still, you were his sister.

The thoughts he held for you were impure and they weren’t going to go away until he fixed them.

It started subtle at first; light touches. He’d brush by you on the weekends when you’d come. Now teenagers at 18 of age, you two were often left alone. Your father would often go out with Jungkook’s mother and neither of you minded - Jungkook would bring his friends over and sometimes, you’d do the same. This weekend was different, however. There was a change in Jungkook’s behavior.

Jungkook would hold your hips often when passing by. He’d place a hand on your lower back when he comes up from behind you. His teasing never ceased, but they became more…sensual?

Your mind tells you that it’s in your head. Jungkook was (unfortunately) your brother - step brother - but a brother nonetheless. He has now introduced you as his sister at school and that now means you had girls you’d never talk to attempting to speak with you in order to get to the person that was Jeon Jungkook.

The first time you’ve done something with Jeon Jungkook you had cried and vomited when you came back to your senses. “Stop being scared.” Jungkook said, passing you the glass with a shot's worth of alcohol in it. “Dad would never know.”

You grabbed the glass only because you didn’t want to appear like a loser. It was the weekend once more and you stayed at your father’s home and it was the same weekend your father and step-mother were celebrating their anniversary away. They felt comfortable leaving you and Jungkook alone more now since graduation was right around the corner.

A few friends and no parties was your father’s rule and that’s exactly what you’ve stuck by. Jungkook had a few friends each over while you decided to remain alone - Taehyung was someone you were nervous around because he was older and college age. He was far more experienced in drinking than you’d ever be and you didn’t want to appear like a fool.

“Your sister’s so cute.” Jimin had said to you - the same age as Taehyung and attending the same college. He laughed when your face scrunched in disgust at the harsh taste of the alcohol. “So innocent.” he murmured.

It didn’t take long for the effects of the alcohol to flow through you entirely and you were now looser. You laughed along to whatever Taehyung said, a hot feeling running through you. The man sees the glossy look in your eyes as you look at him with such innocent-like eyes and he does nothing but pat your head gently - you were someone he had to remain at a distance because you were his younger friend's sister.

“You like Tae.” Jungkook said to you once his friends had left and you and he were left alone. “He’ll never like you back, you know? Bro code.”

Your head is spinning slightly and all you can hear is the annoying voice of Jungkook ruining your vibe. You grabbed the bottle from his hands and took a messy swig of it. “Fuck you.” you slur.

Jungkook scoffs, his eyes racking your figure. You had taken off the hoodie you wore an hour ago and now stayed in a tanktop and shorts.

“No one likes me because of you.”

“That’s not true. Everyone likes you.” Jungkook had scoffed - he’s come across enough locker room talk about you.

“And no one wants to do anything with me because of you!” you hissed. You were drunk, Jungkook notes, and now your feelings were falling right into his lap.

“You should be thanking me. They just want to use you for your body. They can smell your virginity from a mile away.”

Your eyes widen and your body heats with embarrassment. Without thinking, you threw the bottle at Jungkook. It smashes against his chin and he releases a loud groan at you doing so.

“I-I’m sorry-” you didn't actually intend for the bottle to connect.

Jungkook presses his lips against yours, hands roughly grabbing your hips to keep you down. You’re shocked at the action and for a moment, you’re stuck on what to do or how to react.

You’ve kissed a boy before, sure, but not Jungkook - his lips are soft and not as chapped as the last boy you’ve kissed.

Jungkook pushes himself away as if realizing his mistake, his eyes are just as wide as yours and before he can apologize for his actions, you vomit completely on him, hot tears pouring down from your eyes. Now you’re truly embarrassed; humiliated. You were crying because the thought of kissing Jungkook sends shockwaves of both disgust and a taboo pleasure; and because you also vomited on him.

You ran to your room, stumbling a bit because the room was spinning entirely too much. You ignored Jungkook’s calls for you entirely and slammed your door shut.

You felt stupid, disgusted and humiliated all at once.

It was the following morning where you were forced to face Jungkook once more, now sober, and this time the boy refused to be ignored. You were fresh out of the shower, speed walking down to your bedroom where you were face to face with Jungkook, him sitting directly on your bed.

“Good morning.” Jungkook says cooly, his eyes on your face as if awaiting for your reaction.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, clenching the towel on your body tighter.

“Are you scared of me, Y/N?”

You’re taken aback by the question. “No.” you answer truthfully - there wasn't a reason to. Jungkook wasn’t a threat to you.

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“More like a roach.” you spit, and Jungkook chuckles.

“I want to talk about last night.”

You swallow, the room now growing hot. “What about last night?” you say, stepping into your room. “I got drunk…I don’t really remember what happened.”

Jungkook watches you intently as you enter your closet and crack the door gently. It was big enough for you to hide in it for a moment to grab a robe and return. “Did I do something to embarrass myself?” you laugh humorlessly.

You’re shaking with nerves and Jungkook knows you’re lying; pretending to not know what has happened.

“You don’t remember?” Jungkook furrows a brow, turning to you fully. You sit on your bed, back pressed against the headboard.

You shake your head.

“Hm.” Jungkook stands. “That’s too bad.”

You swallow a dry lump in your throat, a part of you wanting to question what Jungkook meant by “too bad”.

“You told me it was my fault that no one touches you.” Jungkook says after a moment of reading your face. “I’m sorry for that.”

Your body is hot; you remembered saying that. You remembered it all, as drunk as you were. You’re surprised you didn’t wake up with a hangover.

“It’s not your fault.” you murmur, glancing away.

“I know.” Jungkook snickers. “Still, I know how boys are, Y/N. I am one.” he says. “They’ll take advantage of you. They’ll use you just to get in your pants.”

The conversation was going left, you note. You and Jungkook never spoke about this - sex or boys or anything related. He once teased you for having a crush back in middle school and that caused you to push him hard in a puddle of mud. He was so embarrassed about “being pushed by a girl” that he told your father that he tripped instead.

“You should experience…” Jungkook trails off, as if trying to find the correct words to say. “...being touched by someone you love-”

“Please stop the speech.” you’re cringing, never in a million years thinking you’d hear this from Jungkook of all people.

“I’m being serious Y/N.” Jungkook comes around to sit directly in front of you, eyes watching you closely. “It’s better with someone you love.”

“Did you love anyone you,” you raise your hands to do air quotes. “touched.”

Jungkook snickers. “I’m a boy. We’re wired differently.” he brushed your question off. “You’re a girl. You’re not. You’ll grow attached to the person who takes your virginity and they’ll let you down. And as your brother,” Jungkook’s eyes zone in on you so deep that it catches you by surprise. “I’ll have to kill them.”

You roll your eyes - but goosebumps litter the skin of your arms. “You’re so unserious.” you respond. “Since when do you play the step-brother role?”

“Since now. I love you, Y/N.” Jungkook smiles, his teeth - that reminded you of a bunny - on full display. “That’s why I want to be the one to…touch you.”

Now, in this instant, you’re positive that you looked like you’ve seen a ghost. Your body is stiff and your eyes widen at Jungkook’s words. He doesn’t speak for a moment to allow your mind to think about the words he’s spoken.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

Jungkook doesn’t appear as distraught as you - he was the one to suggest it.

“W-What are you saying?” you hiss at him, body hot. You’re sure this was another cruel joke Jungkook was going to push at you. He was going to burst out laughing at any minute and it was just a ruse to fluster you even more.

“I’m saying,” Jungkook tilts his head. “I want to be the one to pleasure you first.” he reiterates nonchalantly. “I can’t think of anyone that would love you more than me. You’re my sister-”

“Don’t call me that!” you hiss at Jungkook.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why not? Is it not true?” he asks. “You’re my step-sister. If you want to lose your virginity then I’ll be the perfect person to do so. I actually care for your feelings, don’t I?” he shrugs his shoulders.

You shake your head, mind trying to adjust to Jungkook’s words. “You’re crazy.” you scoff, but you glance away for a moment to think about what he’s said.

“You’d rather have sex with someone you don’t love than me?” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re my broth…step-brother.” you respond. “It’s kinda weird thinking about you in that way.”

“Then don’t.” Jungkook shrugs. “Just think of me as Jungkook. We’re both seniors in High School about to graduate. Do you really want to go to college as a virgin?”

Going to college as a virgin shouldn’t bother you - you weren’t there to be fucked into oblivion countless times. However, your childish mind tells you that going to college without any experience was going to be your downfall. You think about Jungkook’s older friends - how Jimin called you innocent. How Taehyung lightly patted your head to dismiss you.

Jungkook watches your face fall and he understands that slowly, you were considering his proposal.

“We don’t have to jump into sex completely. Since you’re new to this I want to focus on your pleasure.”

“Like what?” you ask innocently.

Jungkook offers a soft smile. “You trust me, right? I love you and you love me.”

Slowly, you nod. You’re sure you did love Jungkook - knowing his since you were a child and growing up alongside him.

“Okay.” Jungkook nods his head, inching closer to your stiff frame. He places a hand onto your face. “It’s just me, remember. You don’t have to be scared.”

You nod your head hesitantly. You didn’t have to be scared, yet you were. The thought of doing anything sexual with Jungkook causes fear to run through your veins - getting caught in the act was yet another fear. Your father wouldn’t be returning until Monday afternoon, but that didn’t cause your nerves to cease.

Jungkook leans closer to press a kiss against your lips much like he did the night prior, only this time more gentle. His lips were what you remembered them to be - soft and…a hint of strawberry? Jungkook often wore chapstick so you weren’t as confused as you would’ve been.

You don’t move and allow Jungkook to completely take charge. “I’m going to continue to kiss you.” he murmurs breathily against your lips and you can only nod. But Jungkook doesn’t kiss your mouth, he instead kisses down your jawline to your chin and reaches your neck. “Lay down.” he instructs.

Your robe hikes up your thigh as you do as Jungkook tells you and it’s that moment that you remember that you were naked under the silk material - how you forgot was beyond you.

A hand touches your outer thigh and you flinch, nerves kicking back in.

“It’s just me.” Jungkook repeats against your neck. “Open your legs.”

It takes you a moment to listen to Jungkook. You’re trembling when you finally do open your legs and Jungkook takes it upon himself to wrap them around his waist.

Jungkook’s closer - the closest he’s ever been to you. You were naked right beneath him, the silk robe only reaching higher and higher up your thigh that you have no coverage whatsoever.

Jungkook’s sweats are thick, but he’s directly against your core and he could feel the pulsing from between your legs, similar to a heart beat.

Your skin is soft, Jungkook notes while both hands run beneath the robe. He inches up slowly, enjoying the way your breathing becomes heavy.

“Jung-” you don’t finish your speech and it’s interrupted by both of Jungkook’s hands engulfing your ass entirely.

Jungkook shudders at the feel of you. His sweats were becoming tight but he knows he cannot act on his urges - not when you were trusting him with this.

Jungkook’s kisses proceed to go past your neck, hands rising upwards to untie your robe. It falls open and now Jungkook has full access to your naked body.

“You have such a slutty body, Y/N.” Jungkook murmurs, his voice deeper than usual. You want to ask what that meant and if it was bad; but Jungkook doesn’t allow you to. His hands engulf your breast fully, his thumbs rubbing along your erect nipples.

“Does that feel good?” Jungkook asks, his eyes darting from your breast to your face.

You slowly nod your head, embarrassed at how good it did feel.

“Good.” Jungkook mumbles. Your breast felt as amazing as your ass and fit perfectly in the palms of his hand. His own breathing intensified, his cock throbbing to be released from the prison that was his underwear and sweatpants. “You’re aroused. I can feel your through my sweats.”

“Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” Jungkook snickers. “You’re supposed to be. Here,”

Jungkook wanted to feel you as much as he possibly could. He removes himself from you briefly, his warmth gone entirely that you slightly shiver. He then lowers his sweats enough so that he’s only in his underwear, his erection appearing painfully hard.

“You can grind against me. It’ll feel good.” Jungkook returns to you, left hand dipping to grip your ass and press you firmly against his clothed erection. The material of his underwear briefs are far more thin than his sweats and he’s thankful that he gets to feel some part of you.

While Jungkook’s left hand grips your ass, his left goes to rub along your breast, his thumb and index pinching your nipple for a reaction.

You yelp when you feel a new sensation - Jungkook’s tongue. He’s ensuring every part of you has a form of pleasure, his tongue swirling on your other nipple entirely.

Jungkook’s hips thrust into you, his eyes fluttering close. His pleasure could never match what you were feeling now, but even doing the deed - something so forbidden for step-siblings - was causing a wave of adrenaline and pleasure to flow through him.

The pleasure you were feeling was just as foreign, but you couldn’t deny how good it felt. You could feel the sticky arousal between your legs that’s staining Jungkook’s underwear. You couldn’t care now, not when you were matching Jungkook’s thrust with your own grinding.

This isn’t good, you tell yourself. Jungkook and you weren’t supposed to be doing this.

But it felt good - Jungkook’s tongue suckling on your breast, his hand gripping your ass so tight while he’s grinding against you.

“I told you it’ll feel better when you do it with someone you love.” Jungkook says against your breast, his tongue flickering out his lips to flicker against your nipple.

The amount of times Jungkook and you continued to engage in sexual acts should be unhealthy. It should have stopped after the first time - but it didn’t. You’re embarrassed to say that you came just by grinding against him, an act that Jungkook found so hot that he wanted to do it again and again and again.

The entire weekend was you and Jungkook. Slowly, you became comfortable with being with him. By the third day, you had since sat in his lap completely naked just in hopes of getting off - and Jungkook allowed it. He loved watching the way you succumb with pleasure, so wet and ready to cum that you didn’t care what he was doing. He had to mute his microphone on his game that he was playing with Taehyung, ignoring the screams his friend was shouting over the headset about their team losing because of him - but Jungkook didn’t care.

One thing Jungkook enjoyed was tasting you, as weird as it sounded. He’s done this before with other girls - but you were different. He enjoyed sucking and kissing on your kiss and watching your raw reaction to it. He’d place his hands upon your hips as you grind against his cock, his tongue rubbing along your soft skin. Your breasts were littered with hickies now and you didn’t care in the slightest.

But Jungkook is salivating at the thought of getting to taste you. He can feel how wet your are, your pussy releasing sweet arousal all over his cock that it’s a waste that he hasn’t tasted it.

The idea of you spread before him as he ravishes your pussy, your moans high and full of lust.

Jungkook is going to do so - now. He doesn’t care if you’re on the phone with your friends; you’ve interrupted him when he was on his game. He had to hear Taehyung berate him for an hour straight.

You’re already naked, Jungkook notes, and that’s good. While you and he started this only two days ago, you wanted him at every given moment and being naked was the quickest way for you to have him.

Jungkook enters your room without knocking and you furrow a brow at him. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t need to. You know what he wants (in a way) and you’ll always be ready to give it to him.

What you aren’t expecting was Jungkook to pull your legs apart, and without warning, dive right into it. His tongue lays flat against your clit, his hands going beneath your thighs to assure you don’t close them.

You yelp loudly at the sudden action, a low groan releasing from your lips.

“I-I’m okay.” you tell your friend over the phone. “K-Keep telling me what happened.”

You mute your phone and place it aside. “W-What-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook tells you. He doesn’t want to think about anything but tasting you, having you cum all over his lips.

Your friend's speech dies down in the background. Jungkook doesn’t allow any time for you to adjust, his tongue laps between your folds hungrily. Your moans are as sweet as your pussy and he focuses on it and your pleasure entirely. He slurps and sucks against your clit as if it’s his last meal.

“Jungkook, I-I-”

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to look at you and once more, you groan.

This is bad, you think. No, worse.

You told yourself that eventually, you and Jungkook would need to stop this. That you couldn’t keep allowing him to make you cum; but then he makes it harder. Grinding against him was one thing - still bad seeing as he was your step-brother - but this? This was worst.

And the worst felt so good.

“K-Kookie, please-”

You haven’t called Jungkook that since middle school - a nickname he hated as he grew older. But the name sounds so sweet coming from your lips that he just wants to ravish your pussy even more.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, then swipes his tongue against your clit slowly. He keeps his eyes on you as he does this, your reaction enticing him. “Want you to cum on my face.”

Your thighs quiver at Jungkook's words, body radiating with heat. Slowly you nod your head, slightly anticipating the new found pleasure Jungkook was giving you.

“It’ll feel good…” Jungkook says suddenly. “...might feel a little different.”

You’re unsure what he’s speaking of until you feel pressure. Your walls clench around his fingers, the feeling completely unexpected and unfamiliar.

“Relax, Y/N. It’ll feel good soon.”

Jungkook continues to lick on your clit, slowly entering his fingers deeper inside of you. You’re tight - the tightest he’s ever felt. But you were also a virgin and this was something he’s never had before. It excites him greatly, the thought of you giving your body to him; him being your first for everything sends shock waves through him.

You hum low and your thigh twitches. Jungkook's fingers are long and they’re now hitting a nerve deep inside of you.

Your back arches as Jungkook picks up the pace in his thrusting. His eyes never leave you as he does, enjoying the way your face contorts with pleasure. You’re beautiful, he thinks, as he always thought you were. Now you’re beautiful to him in more ways than one and your body has developed gracefully over the years.

Your eyes snap shut, a long moan releasing deep from your throat. You’re positive that this was going to make you cum quick - the quickest you’ve ever had.

“You’re so wet, Y/N.” Jungkook says, hovering above you. He doesn’t stop his thrusting fingers and his eyes are fixed on how good the sight of you is. “Aren’t you happy you agreed to this?”

“Yes!” you moan, nodding your head. There’s that familiar bubbling in your stomach creeping up on you.

“So pretty…” Jungkook groans. Your juices were leaking onto his palm entirely. He can’t wait until he could have you the way he wants to - to fully pleasure you the best way he knows how.

This isn’t something Jungkook ever wants to stop doing - the rush that goes through him at the fact that this is something you and he were not supposed to be doing. The forbidden action makes him want you even more - want you at times he truly shouldn’t and he ponders how he would react when you two were no longer alone.

Your thighs are shaking erratically and Jungkook knows you’re cumming. This must be bliss for you, he thinks, cumming so much in such a short amount of time. You’re just lucky that it was him - someone who truly loved you - that was doing this for you. Another person wouldn’t care if you came or not.

Jungkook presses a kiss against your lips as you ride out your orgasm. He sends them across your cheek to your neck as you slowly begin to calm down from your high. “I think your friend hung up.” Jungkook says, eyes glancing at your discarded phone.

You don’t respond, exhaustion hitting you drastically.

Jungkook pecks your lips once more. “Next time, I want you to sit on my face.” he says to you, removing his fingers entirely.

This was bad, you think. But you didn’t want it to end.

next (tape) | series masterlist | final (sibling rivalry)

#trivia-yandere #bts smut #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #btswritersclub #btswriterscollective #bangtan smut #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #jungkook smut #Jungkook x you #jungkook fic #bts step sibling #sibling rivalry #fixation

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novaursa · 29 days

Text

Fires That Never Freeze

- Summary: You receive the news about Rhaenys' death at Rook's Rest, before Jace arrives as he secures the Twins.

- Paring: targ!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is only daughter of Rhaenyra, has silver hair and violet eyes and is bonded to a dragon. These events happen after The Heir of Ice and Ash. To read all parts in chronological order, or more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 5 524

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @21-princess

You cradle your son, Killian, against your chest, his soft breath a soothing rhythm amidst the storm brewing in your heart. His dark hair is thick for one so young, a stark contrast to your own silver strands that cascade down like a river of moonlight, braided intricately yet now trembling at the edges as you shudder with grief. His violet eyes—your eyes—peek up at you in curiosity, innocent to the world that has been drenched in blood and betrayal. You wish you could preserve this innocence forever, shield him from the horrors beyond these stone walls, but you know all too well that the winds of war spare no one.

The letter lies crumpled beside you, the wax seal of the Three-Headed Dragon snapped in two. The words are still fresh, cutting through you like Valyrian steel, sharper than any sword you could ever wield. Your grandmother—brave, indomitable Rhaenys—is gone. The Queen Who Never Was met her end at Rook’s Rest, where she and Meleys faced the combined fury of Vhagar and Sunfyre. The account is almost too monstrous to believe: how Meleys’ head was severed and paraded as a trophy, how Aegon the Usurper was carried away like a broken thing, sealed in a crate to hide his mangled form. They say he is scarcely more than a corpse now, held together only by pride and the twisted whims of fate.

Your tears fall silently, trailing over Killian’s soft cheeks as he looks up at you, gurgling without a care in the world. He knows nothing of what has been lost, what will never be.

Suddenly, you feel Cregan’s presence behind you—warm and steady like the roots of an ancient tree. He kneels by your side, his grey eyes searching yours with concern. His large, calloused hand rests gently on your back, grounding you in the present. “Y/N,” he murmurs, voice soft as the snow falling outside. “I heard. The raven...”

You can’t find the strength to speak, so you only nod. He understands without needing further words; he always has. The Lord of Winterfell was never meant for courtly games or gilded halls, but here in the cold North, his honesty and strength have become your rock amidst all the chaos. Yet even his unwavering strength can’t shield you from this hurt.

“I thought dragons were… unkillable,” Cregan says after a pause, his voice rough with both sorrow and disbelief. “The stuff of legends, creatures older than men, forged in fire. I thought they were eternal.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to blind you and force yourself to meet his gaze. There is no room for illusions, not in this world where even gods bleed. “Anything can be killed, Cregan,” you whisper, voice trembling yet laced with a fierce conviction. “Even the gods. Even kings and Kingmakers alike.” The venom laced in the last words is unmistakable. Ser Criston Cole, the leech in royal armor, the wretched man who enabled this war to take root with his false oaths and blackened soul—how you despise him. The thought of him twisting the fate of nations with his cruelty makes bile rise in your throat

Cregan’s brow furrows as he takes in your words. He knows of your distaste for Cole, for all those who put ambition over loyalty, who would see the world burn if only to rule over the ashes. He moves closer, wrapping a protective arm around you and Killian. “You’re right,” he says quietly, his voice a deep rumble, “but we’re still here, and we’ll fight back for those we’ve lost. For those who remain.”

Killian shifts in your arms, cooing softly, as if sensing the turmoil in your heart. You lean into Cregan’s warmth, letting yourself take solace in the strength he offers. “Rhaenys was always so brave,” you murmur, your voice breaking slightly. “She defied them all her life, never once bending to their will. They feared her because she was a woman who would not be cowed, and now… they parade her death like some kind of victory.”

“They can parade all they like,” Cregan says, his voice turning steely, “but a victory built on treachery and murder will crumble. Aegon’s body may still cling to life, but his cause is already rotting from within. The realm will see it.”

His words, though meant to comfort, bring little ease. The war rages on, and with it, the losses mount like a tolling bell. Your heart aches, both for those who have fallen and for those who must still face what lies ahead. Yet, as you look down at Killian, you feel a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. He is a symbol of all you fight for—a future not bound by the horrors of the past, but shaped by those who endure.

“Thraxata will know,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Cregan, your thoughts turning to your own dragon, the Midnight Fury. “She will mourn with me.”

Cregan tightens his grip around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. “And when the time comes, she’ll fight with you too, alongside us all. This isn’t over, Y/N. We have something they’ll never understand—a love forged in fire and ice, bound by loyalty.”

You close your eyes and let yourself be held, the flicker of strength in your chest rekindling. The tears still fall, but now, with every drop, there is something else too—a growing resolve. Rhaenys’ death will not be in vain. The world will hear the roar of her legacy through you, through your son, and through every soul that refuses to bow to the false kings who sit on thrones built on blood.

For now, you hold your family close, taking what comfort you can in the warmth of Cregan’s embrace, in the small heartbeat thrumming steadily against your chest. The autumn winds howl outside, but here, amidst stone and fur, there is still love, still life. The storm may rage, but you will not break.

Not yet.

The weirwood stands tall and ancient, its pale bark almost glowing in the dim twilight. The blood-red leaves flutter softly in the breeze, a stark contrast against the gray skies overhead. You feel small before it, like a child gazing up at something vast and unfathomable. The face carved into the heart tree’s trunk stares down at you with those deep, knowing eyes, as if it sees not just you, but every thought, every secret tucked away in the recesses of your soul.

You’ve been standing here longer than you intended, lost in the quiet of this sacred place. Yet, beneath the peace, there’s an unease gnawing at you. The chill of autumn clings to your skin, sharper now, more present. It crawls into your bones, but you can’t bring yourself to move. You’re here, but not truly—your thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind.

For a moment, everything sharpens. You feel the press of the cold more keenly now, and your breath curls in the air like faint wisps of smoke. Then, the world begins to shift. The rustle of the leaves grows distant, muffled, until it’s almost drowned out by something else—a whisper that’s barely more than a breath, carried on the wind. You stiffen, your heart quickening. It’s a voice, faint yet clear as the first crack of ice on a frozen lake.

Y/N.

It speaks your name, though you cannot tell whether it’s a man’s voice or a woman’s. It sounds old, ageless even, and it seems to echo within your mind as much as in the air around you. A rush of images floods your vision—flashes of faces, places, events yet to come or perhaps already past. You see fire and blood, wings spreading wide against a burning sky. There’s the glint of steel, a flash of a crown—someone crying out, their voice lost in a roar of flames.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the frenzy halts. You stagger back a step, your surroundings snapping back into focus, the world real again. But the cold clings to you, more than it did before. The weirwood watches you, its eyes holding secrets it will never share. You swallow, trying to steady your breath, your heart pounding loud enough to drown out all else.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice cuts through the fog of your thoughts, pulling you back fully to the present.

You turn, dazed, and see Cregan striding toward you, his expression tense with concern. Behind him is Maester Kennet, his gray robes fluttering as he hurries to keep pace. Cregan’s eyes are locked on you, his brows drawn together, the worry evident in his every movement. “What’s wrong? You’ve been out here too long—it’s freezing.” His tone is gentle, but there’s an edge to it, the underlying fear for your well-being.

You blink, still feeling the lingering echoes of the vision, the remnants of those hurried images flickering in your mind’s eye. “I… I’m fine,” you say, but your voice is shakier than you intend, betraying the truth of your unease.

Cregan stops in front of you, reaching out to cup your cheek with one roughened hand, his thumb brushing against your cold skin. “You don’t look fine, love,” he murmurs, eyes searching yours as if trying to find the cause of whatever has you so shaken. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit, closing your eyes briefly as you lean into his touch. “The weirwood… I thought I heard something. Saw something.”

Maester Kennet approaches cautiously, his gaze darting between you and the heart tree. “The Old Gods have their ways of sending messages, Lady Y/N,” he says softly. “The weirwoods are their eyes, their ears. It is not unheard of for them to reach out to those who carry their favor.”

Cregan frowns at that, his grip on you tightening protectively. “She’s been out here too long, alone,” he says, not taking his eyes off you. “Whatever she saw or heard can wait until she’s had some rest.”

But Maester Kennet shakes his head, his face grim as he pulls a folded letter from his robes. “I wouldn’t have interrupted if it weren’t important. A raven came not long ago—from the Twins. Your brother, Jacaerys, has secured passage for his forces. He’s on his way to meet you, Lady Y/N.”

The words bring a sudden, fierce surge of emotion—relief mixed with dread. Jacaerys is alive, fighting as he always promised he would. Yet with every victory comes new dangers, new battles. And the visions, whatever they meant, linger in your mind like a shadow cast over the joy of the news.

Cregan, ever perceptive, sees the conflict in your eyes and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll face whatever comes,” he promises, his voice a low rumble, the kind that always makes you feel like you’re standing on solid ground, even when the world tilts.

You manage a small smile, nodding. “Yes…”

But as you glance back at the weirwood, its face still and expressionless, you can’t shake the feeling that the Old Gods are watching more keenly than ever. The autumn winds whisper secrets you’re not sure you want to hear, and deep in your heart, you sense that whatever lies ahead, the choices you make will ripple far beyond the snow-covered hills of the North.

With a deep breath, you turn away from the tree, allowing Cregan’s steady presence to guide you back toward Winterfell, leaving the whispers of the gods behind—for now.

The winds bite sharper today, swirling through the bare branches of the godswood and over the snow-covered battlements of Winterfell. You stand beside Cregan at the edge of the courtyard, your cloak pulled tight against the chill. Thraxata looms behind you, her obsidian scales gleaming in the pale winter light. The Midnight Fury’s violet eyes are fixed on the skies above, where your brother is soon to arrive. The air hums with anticipation, the kind that makes your heart race and your fingers twitch. Beside you, Cregan rests a hand on the pommel of his sword, his gaze as steady as the stone walls that surround you.

“Are you ready?” Cregan’s voice is low, warm like a hearth fire, grounding you in the present moment.

You nod, though the tension in your chest remains. “I haven’t seen Jacaerys in so long. I only hope he’s as safe as his letter claimed.”

Cregan squeezes your hand, a brief but reassuring gesture. “If he’s anything like you, he’ll be stronger than ever.”

You smile at his words, but the edge of worry still lingers. War changes people, molds them into something else—sometimes into something harder, colder. You’ve seen it already in the eyes of the soldiers who have passed through Winterfell, men whose laughter now rings hollow, whose smiles are mere shadows. What has the war made of your brother?

Before your thoughts can spiral further, the distant roar of a dragon echoes through the sky, accompanied by the deep flap of massive wings. All eyes turn upward, and there—emerging from the rolling clouds—is Vermax. His green and bronze scales shimmer with an ethereal glow against the muted grays of the northern sky, his wings outstretched as he circles lower. Your heart lifts at the sight, despite everything.

Thraxata rumbles low in her throat, a sound that’s half-greeting, half-challenge. She shifts, restless, her powerful tail sweeping across the ground and leaving deep grooves in the snow. You place a calming hand on her side, feeling the heat radiating from her scales, even in the biting cold. “Easy, girl,” you murmur, though a part of you understands her unease. The bond between dragon and rider is one forged in fire and instinct—Thraxata senses your tension as clearly as you do.

Vermax lands with a powerful thud in the courtyard, snow scattering like dust beneath his claws. Jacaerys dismounts swiftly, his dark curls wild from the wind, his face shadowed with exhaustion and resolve. His eyes—dark brown—search the crowd until they find you. Despite the grimness that hangs about him, a grin breaks across his face.

“Y/N!” His voice is hoarse, but filled with unmistakable affection.

You rush forward, closing the distance between you, and throw your arms around him. For a moment, you’re children again, finding comfort in each other amidst the storms that have always threatened to tear your family apart. But the moment is brief, tinged with the weight of all that has passed. When you pull back, you can see the subtle changes in him—the deeper lines etched into his face, the hardened edge in his gaze.

“Brother,” you breathe, cupping his face, your thumb brushing against the scar just above his brow—a mark of a recent battle, no doubt. “You’ve grown into a man of war.”

Jacaerys huffs a quiet laugh, though it lacks the lightness it once held. “It seems the war gives us little choice in what we become.” His gaze flickers over your shoulder, landing on Cregan. “Lord Stark,” he greets formally, though the respect in his tone is genuine. “Your hospitality has been unmatched. It’s a comfort to know my sister has found such a strong ally—and husband.”

Cregan inclines his head, his usual sternness softened slightly by a hint of warmth. “Your family is ours now, Jacaerys. Winterfell stands with you, as do the men of the North. We fight together.”

The words, though simple, carry a promise, one that Jacaerys seems to take solace in. He nods, a flicker of relief crossing his features before his expression grows serious once more. “The Twins have bent the knee. Their armies are ready to march when we give the word. The Riverlands will rally to our cause, though they’ve suffered much at the hands of the greens.”

You clench your fists at your sides, feeling the familiar fire of rage ignite in your belly at the thought of those who serve the usurper, those who’ve turned against your mother, against your family. “We’ll make them pay for every drop of blood spilled,” you vow, your voice cold with determination. “They’ll learn the price of treachery when fire and blood rain upon them.”

Jacaerys’ gaze meets yours, a shared understanding passing between you. “We will, sister,” he says quietly. “But we must be wise in how we strike. Our enemies are many, and some hide in shadows even we haven’t uncovered.”

As he speaks, the men of Winterfell gather closer, eager to hear news from the South. Thraxata moves to stand beside Vermax, her violet eyes fixed on him, a low rumble vibrating through her chest. Vermax, ever the more temperate of the two, remains still, watching her with a calm curiosity. The two dragons are like night and day, one fierce and unpredictable, the other steady and patient—a reflection of the bond shared between their riders.

Maester Kennet steps forward from the crowd, ever the dutiful servant, and bows his head. “My lord, my lady,” he addresses you both, “the men are ready to host your brother and his retinue. Supplies are being gathered for the march south, but it would do you both good to rest and break bread together before the night grows colder.”

Cregan nods, though his gaze remains fixed on Jacaerys. “You’ve traveled far, and winter’s grip grows tighter by the day. We’ll speak of war and plans soon enough. Tonight, we celebrate family.”

Jacaerys glances at you, his eyes softening briefly before he returns his attention to Cregan. “I’d welcome that. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the warmth of kin.” He turns to you once more, taking your hand and squeezing it. “Mother would want us to stand strong, Y/N. For her, for all of us.”

You swallow back the knot in your throat, nodding. “We will, Jace. We will.”

As you walk back toward the Great Hall, arm in arm with your brother and Cregan beside you, the dragons shift close behind ready to take flight, their steps heavy on the snow-covered earth. Above, the first stars begin to pierce the twilight sky, cold and distant. You can still feel the echoes of the weirwood’s whispers, the glimpses of futures yet unwritten. But here, with your family by your side, you draw strength from the bonds that even war cannot break.

The Great Hall of Winterfell is alive with the low murmur of voices and the crackle of hearth fires. The long table is crowded with Stark bannermen, their weathered faces drawn with the seriousness of the discussion. The banners of the North hang proudly on the walls—gray direwolves on fields of white and gray. The smell of pinewood smoke and spiced wine fills the air, mingling with the scent of roasted meats brought out for the evening. It is a scene both warm and solemn, a brief moment of respite before the weight of strategy drags everyone back into the cold reality of war.

You sit beside Cregan at the head of the table, your hand resting on his arm as Jacaerys stands before the gathered lords. He wears his determination like armor, though there is a heaviness in his eyes that no amount of resolve can mask. His voice, strong despite the weariness clinging to him, rings out over the hall.

“Our enemies have grown bolder since my brother’s and grandmother's murders. Aemond has broken the oldest of laws—he’s a kinslayer, and for that, he’s forfeited not only his honor but any right to mercy. The greens think the deaths of Luke and Rhaenys will weaken us, make us retreat into mourning. They’re wrong.” His words are met with murmurs of agreement, grim nods from the assembled bannermen.

Lord Cregan speaks next, his voice deep and measured. “Justice for Prince Lucerys and Princess Rhaenys will be served, Jacaerys, but the North is not free of its own burdens. The men and Houses we pledged to your cause will march with you as promised—greybeards and veterans who have survived more winters than most. But the majority of our forces must remain here, at least until the winds shift and winter’s bite eases.”

A rumble of assent follows Cregan’s words. The greybeards, some of whom are gathered here tonight, nod their heads, weathered faces set in stony determination. These are men who’ve lived through harsh winters, wars, and endless trials. They know the cost of every step taken southward, but they also understand the weight of their oaths.

You lean forward, feeling the cold steel of duty and sorrow twisting within you. “The Wall grows restless,” you add, your voice quieter but cutting through the room. “Reports from our scouts say the wildlings stir, and there are whispers of darker things in the woods. The North cannot abandon its duties here, not entirely, not with winter closing in. We fight on two fronts—one for vengeance, and one to hold back the darkness that always comes with the cold.”

Jacaerys’ jaw tightens, though there’s no anger in his gaze, only acceptance. “I know what I ask of you, of the North. I wouldn’t pull you from your duties lightly. But we’re in desperate need of men who’ve seen true battle—men who won’t falter when the greens come for us again.” He looks around the table, locking eyes with each of the bannermen. “Aemond’s murders of Luke and Rhaenys aren't just an insult to my family, it’s a warning of what’s to come. They’ll strike at us all, one by one, until there’s nothing left to fight for.”

Maester Kennet, seated near the fire, clears his throat, his thin fingers wrapped around a goblet. “A measured approach is wise. The North is vast, and winter makes even the shortest march an ordeal. Splitting our forces to both hold the Wall and reinforce the Riverlands is a sound strategy. But we cannot be reckless. The cold is our greatest enemy—aside from the greens themselves.”

A grizzled voice interrupts, belonging to Lord Harwood Flint. “We’ve sworn our oaths to your mother, Prince Jacaerys, and those oaths stand. The greybeards and I will march south, aye, but only as far as the weather allows. If winter deepens, we’ll be forced to retreat—lest we lose more men to frost than to battle.”

Lord Cregan nods solemnly. “The North keeps its promises, Jace, but our duty here is unbreakable. If winter passes, we’ll ride in full force, dragons and all. Until then, you’ll have what men we can spare, the strongest and the most experienced. The rest must remain to guard our lands and prepare for whatever winter may bring.”

You watch Jacaerys as he absorbs their words, weighing them against the urgency of his mission. It’s a hard truth, but one he’s known in his heart. “I understand,” he finally says, though the strain in his voice is evident. “The North has always held its ground when others falter. Your men’s presence in the Riverlands will tip the scales more than you know. We’ll make every sacrifice count, for all of our sakes.”

A silence falls over the hall, filled only by the crackling of the fires and the occasional clink of cups against wood. It’s a heavy silence, the kind that carries the weight of lives yet to be lost, battles yet to be fought. You feel the tension in your own shoulders, the mix of sorrow and determination that has become all too familiar.

Cregan’s voice breaks the silence, firm and resolute. “Then it’s settled. The North will march with you, Jacaerys, and we’ll hold the line here until the time is right to unleash the full might of Winterfell. The Wall must remain guarded, our lands defended. But rest assured—the North remembers, and we will have vengeance for both Lucerys and Rhaenys.”

Jacaerys meets his gaze with a nod of gratitude, his eyes glistening with something more than just determination—hope, perhaps, or at least the stubborn refusal to let despair take root. “Thank you, Cregan. Thank you all. My mother will hear of your loyalty, and when the time comes, I’ll see that those who’ve wronged us pay with fire and blood.”

You reach out, placing a hand on Jacaerys’ arm, drawing his attention back to you. “We’ll see this through together, Jace,” you say softly, yet with unshakable conviction. “For Luke. For our family.”

His lips press into a tight line, but he nods, and in that moment, you see the boy you once knew, the one who would always protect his siblings, no matter the cost. War has hardened him, yes, but it hasn’t broken his spirit. And for that, you’re grateful.

The meeting ends with agreements made, plans solidified. As the lords begin to rise and drift away, you, Cregan, and Jacaerys remain, sharing a moment of quiet amidst the chaos. Thraxata and Vermax can be heard outside, their low growls a reminder that no matter how heavy the burden, you are not alone in this fight.

You glance at Cregan, who offers you a small, reassuring smile, and then at Jacaerys, whose eyes hold the same fire that burns within you. The North may be bound by its duties to the Wall, but when the time comes, it will roar in unison, and the South will tremble beneath the weight of vengeance and justice.

Until then, you steel yourself for the battles to come, knowing that winter is both your enemy and your greatest ally. The North will remember, and so will the world.

The chambers are dimly lit, the glow of the hearth casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The scent of pine and smoke lingers in the air, mingling with the faint hint of sage and lavender from the herbs hung above the door. Outside, the cold wind howls, but in here, the warmth is grounding—a cocoon that holds only the two of you.

You stand before the fire, watching the flames dance, lost in the flicker of embers. Thoughts of the day’s discussions linger in your mind, heavy like the weight of armor. You’re still processing the event, the decisions, and the weight of what’s to come. But for now, those thoughts seem distant as you feel Cregan’s presence behind you. His steps are soft as he approaches, yet you can sense the strength in each movement. When he wraps his arms around you from behind, drawing you into his chest, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Y/N,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice a deep rumble. There’s a tenderness there that you’ve come to cherish—an intimacy that only grows with each passing day. You lean back into him, feeling his warmth seep into your skin, grounding you in this moment, away from the burden of duty and war.

His hands slide over your waist, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that never fades, no matter how many times he’s touched you this way. “You’re troubled,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. It’s not a question; he knows you too well.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. “I’ve been thinking… about everything. About Jace, the war, what lies ahead. But mostly… about what I felt in the godswood.”

Cregan’s hands still for a moment, his grip tightening just slightly. He turns you gently to face him, his eyes searching yours, concern and affection mingling in his gaze. “You saw something, didn’t you?” he asks quietly.

You nod, reaching up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, roughened by stubble. “I did, but I don’t want to think about it right now,” you whisper, letting your thumb brush over his lips. “Right now, I just want to feel alive. I want to feel us.”

Something shifts in his gaze, the concern giving way to something deeper, more primal. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, drawing you closer, and when his lips finally meet yours, it’s with a passion that sends a surge of heat through you. The kiss is slow at first, a tender exploration, but it quickly deepens, becoming something more urgent, more consuming.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you press closer, your bodies molding together as if trying to erase any distance between you. His hands roam over you, rough and strong, yet every touch is filled with affection. It’s a contrast that you’ve always found intoxicating—the fierce warrior and the gentle lover, both sides of him intertwined in every caress.

Cregan’s mouth trails down your neck, leaving a line of burning kisses along your skin. “Y/N,” he growls against your throat, his voice thick with desire. “You’re mine.”

You shiver at the possessiveness in his tone, the words igniting something deep within you. “Yours,” you breathe, tugging at his tunic, eager to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

Clothes fall away with hurried hands, the cold air biting at your exposed skin for only a moment before the warmth of Cregan’s body presses against you. You pull him with you, leading him to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he lays you down then, his weight a comforting pressure above you.

The passion between you ignites like wildfire. His hands grip your hips as he enters you, and you gasp, arching into him as he moves with a rhythm that feels like a dance, one you’ve perfected together over countless nights. Every thrust is filled with a mixture of desire and love, each one drawing you closer to the edge, making the world beyond these walls fade away until there’s only him—only you.

Your hands roam over his back, nails digging in as the pleasure builds, each moan, each whispered word of affection driving you both higher. There’s a desperation in the way you cling to each other, as if the passion is the only thing anchoring you both in a world that threatens to tear everything apart.

“Cregan,” you gasp, his name a prayer on your lips as you reach that peak together, the intensity of the moment overwhelming. He groans your name, his voice rough and breathless as he collapses against you, burying his face in your neck, holding you as if he’ll never let go.

For a long while, neither of you speaks, content to simply breathe together, hearts pounding in unison. The room is warm, the glow of the fire casting soft light over your tangled limbs. Cregan’s hand strokes your hair absently, his fingers combing through the silver strands as you lay nestled against him.

But eventually, the silence gives way to the thoughts that have been haunting you. You shift slightly, turning to look up at him. His eyes are closed, a peaceful expression on his face, but you know he’s awake, lost in his own thoughts.

“Cregan,” you say softly, drawing his attention. His eyes open, meeting yours, and the concern returns as he sees the seriousness in your expression.

“What did you see, love?” he asks, his voice gentle, though the tension in his jaw betrays his worry.

You take a breath, recalling the frenzied images that had flashed before you in the godswood, the voice that had called your name. “It was like a storm in my mind,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “I heard my name—felt something pulling at me. And then… I saw flashes of fire, blood, wings beating against a sky that burned. There was steel, a crown, and screams lost in the roar of flames. It was so vivid, so real, but I couldn’t make sense of it. And then it was gone, as quickly as it came.”

Cregan listens, his brow furrowed as he considers your words. “The Old Gods speak in riddles and symbols,” he says quietly. “I’ve heard tales of their whispers, of visions granted to those who stand before the weirwoods. But they’ve never been clear—they show what might be, not what is certain.”

You nod, but the unease still lingers. “It felt like a warning, Cregan. Like something terrible is coming, something we’re not prepared for.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this. The North is with you, I’m with you, and we’ll do everything in our power to protect what we hold dear.”

You close your eyes, letting his words soothe some of the anxiety that gnaws at you. “I know. But there’s so much at stake… and so many unknowns. I can’t shake the feeling that the gods are watching, waiting to see what choices we’ll make.”

“The gods may watch,” Cregan murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your skin, “but it’s our choices that shape the future. Whatever comes, we’ll face it, side by side.”

You find comfort in his certainty, the steady strength he always offers when you need it most. Nestled in his arms, you feel the tension slowly drain from your body, replaced by a sense of peace, however fleeting. For now, the future can wait.

#house of the dragon #hotd cregan #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon

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persicipen · 2 months

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pearls ノ sunday

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.2k ノ fem reader — pussy slapping . teasing ノ in front of a mirror ノ sunday buys you gifts — a necklace ノ he’s a little tired but a freak anyway ノ ambiguous relationship . implied soft dom sub dynamic ノ petnames — darling . dearest . dove

The fingers that belong to the young family leader circle your nape, a feather-like touch despite his own wings taut along his locks, a silvery wave of silk falling on his shoulders. Although your new necklace is loose, pearls sitting lazily on your collarbones, it feels like a collar — a tight rope around your neck, squeezing hard every time you try to pull away from him and he brings you back with a stern tug of the invisible leash.

Sunday loves you, though, right? A lover that keeps you safe, forever excited about new gifts and everything he could do for you if only you had asked.

But you’re silent.

Obedient, the right word. That is true, he would enjoy seeing you break out of his rule, but he prefers you more so nice and quiet, always ready for his commands. He himself doesn’t know how would he react if you were to deny him. Would it spark a fury in him? A despair? Lust, even?

Doesn’t matter.

What matters now is that you’re smiling so dearly in the mirror, seeing yourself with a new jewellery, a shining set of pearls brought to you from Lushanka, the oceanic planet. An expensive proof of ownership, that is.

Gently pressing on his crotch, he knows that you crave only one thing right now — something he cannot give you, not when he’s so frustrated and pensive.

Next to you, there’s a broken shell of a man, eyes empty a worn-out dinner plate instead of a plate of gold. Constant meetings filling every system hour of his routine, nibbling at his humanity, piece by piece, devouring what’s left serene in him. But he always has time for you. You bring a sliver of solace into his day, the light in his life, and your soul is more important than any wealth, any political acquisition. He wants to be the perfect man for you — for now, at least when the family still allows him to have that tiny drop of freedom where he can do as he pleases, with whoever he wants to spend the time.

With the other hand, he brushes his thumb against your cheekbone, the reflection in the mirror immediately following his action, tilting your head to look at him. Your pupils are dilated, lips parted, a fine line of sweat rolling down your forehead as you take his form into your vision. You hold yourself still, making sure to not interrupt his moment of yearning. You feel pity, yes, but simultaneously, there is something dark seeping through your thoughts, whispering how you shouldn’t complain about the circumstances. Not whilst you’re being kept warm and pampered by one of the finest men in Penacony.

That’s correct. He’s not even yours, the richest young family leader, meant to be loved by many and to never have anyone truly on his side. People usually do admire him — for his wit, charisma, and some are very fortunate to be graced with his handsome face up close if They’re his personal retainers. But you? He wants something more from you. The unspoken desire woven into the thread that keeps the pearls in place around your neck.

“Aren’t you just my darling?” Sunday murmurs in a soothing manner as his eyes dart down your neck, brushing his fingers over the lustrous beads once again. “My gift looks divine on you. Are you feeling happy, my dearest?”

“The happiest I could ever be.”

He’s absolutely delighted to see how well you’ve grown used to being around him — his ever-changing moods that sometimes turn sour, and how much better you are than anyone else that isn’t family. But that is the problem.

Sunday’s hands tremble against your collarbones, pressing on them tight as if to brace you for something he has yet to tell you.

You want to reply, to let him know that you are delighted to be given such a precious gift. However, the collar wraps tighter around your throat, the fine edge digging into your skin. You can’t help but give out a whimper at the sudden tightness. It doesn’t take long for the young man to catch on the look of discomfort in your eyes, letting out a soft chuckle as he releases the pressure on your neck. Instead, his fingers move further down, taking ahold of your nipple and giving it a slight pinch.

“I will take it that you love my gift. Very much,” he hums as he plays with your breasts, kneading them, and kissing along your jawline. His soft lips are so warm against your skin, it is almost relaxing until you feel something cold rubbing between your thighs.

Looking down, you can see his hand playing with the fabric of your panties, before his fingers find its way to the hidden clit, urging it to reveal itself with gentle strokes and caresses. In parallel, he begins to rub his crotch against your ass, wanting to give himself some form of relief until he’s done toying with your sensitive nub.

A tap. Catching you by surprise, his fingers patting flat against your flesh, parting the petals to deliver a proper spank to your pussy. In the sudden bloom of sensations, your body jolts forward, letting his hand dip further between your legs — making you open for another slap.

The salacious, squelching sounds have him clicking his tongue.

“Getting wet this urgently, yes? I’ve only just started touching you,” he whispers in your ear, the amusement apparent in his tone. “Are you perhaps a pervert, hm? Or did my sweet dove get so aroused just from looking at us in the mirror?”

Sunday slips a hand underneath the silk, gripping your inner thigh to stop you from closing your legs any further. While you aren’t really the type to get embarrassed by your own reactions, right now you can’t help but feel shame when you are met with his victorious smile as he values your beauty through the reflection.

“It’s alright, I love it when you get so worked up from the simplest things,” he chuckles before blowing a wisp of air into your earlobe. He doesn’t linger there for long and soon enough, he is peppering your neck with wet kisses, grazing your skin in a cordial manner.

It is known just how much you appreciate being spoiled with little affectionate gestures, melting with each and every token that the angelic lover grants you on every occasion.

Pulling his hand away from your core, he gives your panties one last pat, admiring how the damp fabric clings to your lips, illustrating your arousal.

“Did you know? Every pearl has a different kind of pattern and they are each unique,” he whispers before wrapping his fingers around your collar, his golden eyes staring into yours. “You’re the only one who will ever own a pair of pearls identical to these, my darling. Just like I own this one…” With that confession, his fingers pinch your clit through the silk, pulling it up to jab into your puffy cunt with the stretched underwear.

#—writing.#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail x you #star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr smut #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday smut

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babbymochiiii · 3 months

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🔞MINE: JOHNNY SUH

synopsis: 'you're mine, even if i'm not supposed to make you mine'; where you and your bodyguard have a heated argument while you're at the club with your friends. warnings: afab reader, bodyguard!johnny, "business relationship", reader is a public figure of some sorts, pwp, johnny being a meany, fingering/oral (f), p in v, hair pulling, cumming inside, nipple play, breast play, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms for reader, name calling (brat), sweet names for her (baby, angel), etc. author's note: @jsuh for the gif! @rookthornesartistry for the divider! this fic has come to life bc of a daydream i had due to me reading a bodygaurdxclient story 😖 and let's just say it's lowkey self indulgent just cause of the fact that it was a daydream *sweats* it was hot...so i had to share with yall. also, i'm still working on the lee line fic as we speak just the production of it is rlly slow for me at the point cause i'm hitting a big bump in the road for it. so please hang tight! word count: 4.6k

anon ask related to this post!

NOW PLAYING: 1. if i didn't know better by MACK LOREN 2. PROMISES by EMO

"Hey babes, just want to let you know that your bodyguard is staring mad hard over here." Your friend yelled over the booming music the club was playing as the two of you stood at the bar.

Looking over your shoulder— just as she said— you can find your bodyguard with his bulging arms crossed over his chest as he sulks in the corner he is in while sending you a hard look from across the club.

You rolled your eyes at him, before turning around at your friend as you waved a hand between the two of you, dismissing the topic of him entirely. "Forget about him. He's just mad I ended up doing what I wanted without listening to his security measures." You said to her as you rolled your eyes again.

Your friend gave you an unnerving look before turning her expression back to her drink. "You know—" She stops herself quickly as she felt her face heat up at the words. "—it looks like he wants to eat you alive." She said as she took a quick swing of her fruity drink.

You arched an eyebrow at her words before a laugh leaves your lips. Causing her face and the tips of her ears to turn red in embarrassment.

"Are you serious?" You asked her as you chuckled at the silly accusation she made.

"I mean, his eyes won't leave you no matter what. And on top of it he looked like he wanted to kill the guy that tried to buy you a drink earlier." She said as she played with the rim of her glass.

You felt your heart thump harder in your chest at her words. But they were just that. Words. Nothing that she says can be true about your bodyguard. Johnny Suh. The bodyguard that was assigned to you due to your agency fussing over your safety because of some unknown person creating threats towards you.

From the moment you first met, you have been awe struck at his appearance. The way he towered over you, the expressionless look on his face as he looked down at you, the way the black compressed shirt he wore hugged his fit figure, the black jeans he wore how they hugged his large thighs during your first meeting had you clenching your thighs together tightly as you felt yourself become attracted to him.

No matter how much you tried to drown yourself in some company, or your own, he was always on your mind. Everything about him and the things you wanted to do with him. But you knew there was a border you couldn't cross with him. That was the rule...but who cared about the rules, right? They were meant to be broken.

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heart couldn't stop the heavy beating in your chest at the thought of him. You realized you haven't answered your friend and sought out your response as quickly as you could. "There's nothing there, for any of us." You tried not to sound as breathless as you feel as you responded to her. "Besides, it can be the number of fruity cocktails you've been having since we got to the club." You remarked with a smirk.

"Hey!" She laughed as she gave you a playful shove. "They are good as hell, okay." She said as she downed the rest of her drink in one go. "Anyways, let's go dance!" She giggled as she took hold of your hand and dragged you to the middle of the dance floor.

Deciding to go with the flow for the night, you followed your friend's lead and started to dance with her. As the two of you danced, having a good time and just laughing at one another over a silly dance move, a sultry song came on.

You and your friend danced close to one another as you both felt the beat of the music course through your body, completely taking control over the two of you.

Suddenly, you felt someone come up from behind you and wrap their arm around your waist and bringing you closer to them. The person tried to make you grind against them, but you weren't having it.

You turned around and pushed at the man's chest. He held onto your waist tightly, refusing to release you from his hold.

"Let me go fucker!" You yelled as you continued to push at him but all he did was smirk at you as you continued to try and push him away.

"I believe she told you to let her go." A cold voice speaks out beside you.

Chills rake through your body, as you look towards Johnny's towering form, as he looked towards the man holding you with narrowed slits for eyes. A warning before a reaction.

"And what is it to you?" The man laughs as he tightened his grip on your waist, causing you to whimper out in pain.

Nothing was said on Johnny's end at the man's remark, as he took hold of the man's bicep and held it in a vice grip. This caused the man to let go of you as he tried to pry Johnny's hand with his free hand.

"Let her go before I fuck you up." Johnny says in a cool, neutral tone, as if this was any other night.

"Man fuck—" the rest of the man's words were lost as Johnny sent a straight punch to the man's nose. The man wails in pain as he clutches to his now broken nose, where blood started to drip down in a cascade.

"We're leaving." Johnny said as he took hold of your arm and started to drag you off the dance floor, and away from your friend.

You looked back at your friend, to which she sends you a wide eye look as she didn't know what to do in the situation.

"Let me go Johnny! I want to enjoy the night with my friend!" You yelled out as you tried to pry his hold off your arm.

"It's not safe here and I'd rather not watch you dance with other people and drink yourself away." He said in a harsh tone as he pulled you down the secluded hallway the club has that leads you to the entrance/exist.

"Fuck off, Johnny! I want to be here. You're always ruining everything! Why can't you let me be!?" You yelled as you felt your anger get the best of you.

Johnny stops in his steps, before he slowly turns towards you with his own expression of evident anger. "I'm doing my job here. Stop being a fucking brat and listen." He seethed out as he started to walk closer to you, causing you to back up against the wall. He corners you with his towering form.

"You never fucking listen to what I say to you. And look—" he said as he placed both of his hands on each side of your head. "—it gets you in trouble every. Fucking. Time. And who comes after you?" He questioned you.

"You—"

"Exactly. I'm the one saving your bratty ass."

You were stunned into silence as you looked at the way he breathed heavily after his remark. You felt your chest move up and down to the same rhythm as his. You would be an idiot, if you tried to deny the way you felt a sudden rush of moisture collect in your underwear.

The look he was giving you made you release a small gasp as you saw what your friend was telling you.

Pure hunger.

He looked like he wanted to eat you alive as you looked up at him. You felt your body quiver in chills that causes you to arch your back, causing your hardened nipples to graze lightly against his chest through your thin dress.

Something seems to snap within him because before you know it, he's gripping the base of your neck and pulling you roughly against his lips.

Nothing about the kiss was gentle at all. It was all tongue, teeth, and fighting for dominance. This kiss was pure pent-up tension between the two of you, that has been set in place since your first meeting.

You wrapped your hands around his neck. Your hands tangled themselves in his long black locks as he pulled you closer to him. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip causes you to moan loudly at the pleasuring pain that coursed through you.

He pulled away from the kiss and placed his hand on your lower back. “Come with me.” He said in a low tone as he started to guide you to the club’s bathroom for a more private, and secluded moment.

Once he held the bathroom door open, he gently pushed you in before he followed suit locking the door in the process.

You looked up towards Johnny in a breathless state. The whole ordeal was dizzying. You can’t wrap your mind around the events playing in front of you right now. Johnny started to stalk towards you causing you once again to walk backwards until your middle back hit the bathroom’s counter. You looked behind you for a split second, to which Johnny takes the moment you are distracted to lift you up on the counter.

His placement of his hands on your thighs causes goosebumps to rise and place themselves along the rest of your legs as you felt him gently pull them apart as he placed his body between them.

“Do you know what you do to me?” Johnny asked as he looked at you with such intense heat that you swear his eyes were intense pools of brown.

“I —no.” you answered weakly as you looked up at him with doe-like eyes that makes him curse inwardly as he continued his intense stare down.

Without breaking eye contact, he takes hold of one of your trembling hands and places it on his very evident, aching cock that fights to be released from their tight hold.

A gasp leaves your lips as you look down at where your hand is. With a trembling breath that escapes your lungs, you look up towards Johnny and see the same hungered look in his eyes.

“This is what you do to me. From the first moment we met. You have changed everything I stand and believe in.” He purred in a low voice as he squeezed the hand that is on his clothed cock.

You moaned quietly as you felt the way his cock jumped in your hand. With the way your chest was rising and falling at such a rapid pace, you could swear you weren’t breathing as you basked in the feeling that surrounded the two of you.

You took your other hand and started to trace it up the arm that held onto your thigh. In the wake of your path, you saw goosebumps following your hand. You continued the path up his bicep and to his shoulder. Once at the top, you followed your hand as it slowly traced down his chest, where his racing heart was trying to escape his chest.

Johnny started to trace small circles with his thumb in your inner thigh. It was as if a fire had suddenly gone ablaze within your very nervous system as it started to consume your whole being.

“If we do this —” Johnny cuts himself off as he heard how breathless he sounded. Clearing his throat he continued. “If we do this, there is no going back. You are mine. No other man can touch you. Your body is mine.” He said as he placed his other hand on your thigh while pressing his hands into your skin. “—your pussy is mine. Do you understand?” He says as he leans down and traces your jaw with his nose.

“Johnny...please.” You whimpered out as you felt yourself getting desperate for his touch.

“Tell me.” He said as he tangled his hand into your hair.

When you didn’t answer him back quickly — it was more like you were speechless in what to say to him, you were in awe — he pulled at the roots of your hair tightly, pulling your head back so you were forced to make eye contact with him. “Tell me, angel.”

“I’m yours...fuck, Johnny I’m yours.” You cried out as you placed your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you where your lips grazed one another's.

Without missing a beat, Johnny claims your mouth with the same feverish want. It didn’t feel like you were breathing at all as you let him claim your mouth. You felt the strands of his long hair tickle against your forehead as he presses himself further into you. Johnny’s hands release their hold on your thigh and move them to the bunched-up fabric of your dress. He pushes it up further, showcasing your black lacey thong. Along with the obscene amount of slick coming out from your entrance.

Johnny’s fingers grazed along your clad folds causing for a moan to leave your mouth and for you to entrap your legs around his slim waist. You felt the sensitivity of your core race up through your body making it become such a high sensing feeling. Seeing the way, you reacted causes for a grunt to leave Johnny’s throat as he starts to cascade down your throat with bites and kisses.

Distracted by the sensation on your neck, you’ve failed to notice Johnny pushing aside your underwear. The sensation of his callous fingers gliding in-between your folds, makes you pull away from the kiss with a gasp as you look down at him collecting your slick, lubricating his fingers before inserting two fingers into your waiting entrance.

The stretch of his fingers was both pleasures inducing but brought some pain. Tears brimmed your water line as you tried to accommodate the feel of his fingers.

“Cryin’ already? What are you gonna do when you take my cock?” Johnny teases as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. “You’re gonna take it like a good girl. Right, angel?” He says as he started to thrust his fingers in faster.

“Y-yes! Oh—” You moaned out as you felt his fingers start to jerk up inside of you, hitting the spot you deliciously.

Still fingering you with the fast pace he has going, Johnny uses his free hand to scoot you closer to the counter’s edge where he then went down on his knees and used his mouth to suck on your clit.

The sensation of his mouth wrapped around your clitoral hood, has you raising your hips off the counter and trying to get closer to his mouth as it made rockets go off in your nerves with a semi-scream moan.

Not taking his mouth off of where he wanted it most at, he pushes your hips down back onto the counter, and holds them with his free hand. “Never tasted anything so fuckin’ sweet like this.” Johnny moans out as he bit his bottom lip while looking down at your spit-glossed clit and the way his fingers started to have slick cascade down them.

You were so close to losing it — you were that close to actually losing it completely — he goes down on you again, this time moving his head side to side as his tongue sticks out, collecting all of your sweet juices. The feelings in your legs start to feel like mush as the tightening feeling at the base of your spine continues to build up.

As if he couldn’t get enough of you, Johnny pulls you closer off the edge to where your hips almost completely hang off of the counter, as a deep husky groan leaves his lips as he felt you gush even more on his tongue. You took one of your hands and glided it against the strands of his dark hair, slightly massaging his scalp before giving it a tug.

An approved groan leaves his throat as he pushes himself closer to you. His tongue gliding up and down your folds before probing at your entrance where his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. With his tongue joining his fingers, he felt your pussy pulse against his digits causing him to give you a smug smirk. “Such a cute heartbeat baby. Are you gonna cum on my fingers for me?” Johnny said as he looked up at you as he continued his delicious movements.

You gave him a delirious nod of your head as tears started to fall from your eyes at the sensation of being so close to your release.

“Then come.”

With just those two words, you felt the tether within you snap with your hips lifting up and your grip on Johnny’s hair tightening while a cry leaves your lips as you come.

Johnny keeps thrusting his fingers slowly to help you through your orgasm, and with his tongue he laps up your release, leaving you all clean...for now.

As you gasped for the much-needed air in your lungs, through your half-lidded eyes you see Johnny get up and unzip the zipper of his jeans. With a slight haste in his moves, he unbuttons his jeans and releases his weeping cock out of the tight hold they were in.

His cock was such a pretty sight to look at. His tip such a flushed pink and leaking pre-cum, and the vein that pulses so meanly along his long, girthy length you felt yourself gush all over again as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Get off of the counter for me angel.” Johnny says in a gentle tone, but the command laid in the undertone.

Doing as he says, you get off the counter and look up at him, awaiting what he wants you to do next. Both you and Johnny look at one another as each watched the way your chests rise and fall in heavy breaths. You watched the way your arousal and release glistened on his lips and chin. Seeing the way you looked at him made him subconsciously lick his lips.

Ignoring the way his cock is begging to seethe itself inside of you, Johnny takes hold of your face with both of his hands, kissing you once more. He couldn’t get enough of how your lips tasted. You tasted yourself on his lips and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Johnny pulls away from the kiss and pulls you around where you are facing the bathroom mirror. In the reflection you saw the way your makeup was running a little bit, and the way you looked so blissed out from your orgasm. The moment you looked up towards Johnny’s reflection, you felt yourself clenching around nothing. Lust, hooded eyes looked back at you through the mirror.

You felt Johnny press himself against you. His warm and throbbing cock resting against your ass, you pressed yourself further into him. A groan leaves his lips as he looks down at the way your plump ass wants to suck his length in-between them.

Johnny then leans in towards your ear, another smirk playing on his lips. “Be a good girl and take it, yeah?” He says as he takes the side of your ear into his mouth delivering a small nip causing chills and goosebumps to course through your body.

You then see Johnny pull himself up, spit onto his hand before he guides it down to his length and pumps himself — getting it ready for your weeping entrance — all through the mirror. The fact that he was about to fuck you in front of mirror had your mind doing all sorts of somersaults as you edge towards that feral feeling growing larger than life in your chest.

Johnny takes hold of the base of his cock and starts to align it to your entrance. He teases your entrance with his tip, slowly putting it in before he pulls it out. This causes you to whimper at his teasing, but all it does is draw a chuckle from him as he glides his cock in-between your folds.

The fat of his head hits your clit in continuous glides that almost makes you see stars.

“Johnny please —” you cry out as you hang your head down as you tried not to cry over the edging feeling he gives you.

“Please what? Use your big girl voice for me angel.” Johnny teases as he continued his teasing.

“Johnny please fuck me! P-please fu—” the rest of your sentence falls into a scream as you felt Johnny thrust his hard length into your entrance in one go.

The burning sensation of the obscene stretch he gave you made your toes curl as he started to fuck you slowly, letting you somewhat get used to his size.

“What was that?” Johnny laughed as he saw the way the lustful blush takes over your face and chest. You instantly felt yourself getting dumb on his cock as he pounded into you so meanly.

The way your walls sucked him in drove the two of you crazy. You felt the way his vein pulsed within you that it made you clench down onto him. Johnny swore under his breath at the tight feeling you were creating around his pulsing length.

“Fuck — keep clenching me like that angel and I'm not gonna last long for you.” Johnny said as he held onto your hips tightly.

Incoherent words fall from your lips as you savored the delicious feeling of Johnny’s cock gliding in and out of your sopping entrance. Johnny traced his hand up from its place on your hips and brought it to the front of your dress. He pulls the fabric down, causing your breast to spill out from their hold. Johnny takes both of your breasts and places them into each hand of his, giving them both a squeeze causing the two of you to moan. Johnny takes one of your hardened nipples between his fingertips and pinches it.

Moan, after moan leaves your lips as the sensations your bodyguard is giving you. Behind the noise of your moans, you could hear the sound of skin slapping against one another and the squelching sounds coming out from your entrance.

You felt a hand wrap around your hair and tug it backwards making you look into the mirror to already see Johnny looking at you with such a lustful look you honestly believe you could cum on the spot.

“Look at me as I fuck this pretty pussy of your angel.” He speaks roughly as he continues to plough into you. “Look at how. You. Take. It.” Johnny emphasizes with each hard thrust into you.

You bit your lips as you watched the way Johnny started to get lost within your wet walls. You saw the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he tossed his head back, relishing the feeling. It was like seeing a switch flip within his mind as he looked down at the connection between the two of you.

Johnny's hair fell in his face and started to stick to his sweaty skin as he started to deliver merciless thrusts into your abused whole that it had you on your tippytoes.

“Fuckin’ take it. Take it like the good girl that you are baby.” Johnny groans out as he heard your cry of how good he’s hitting your walls.

Johnny snaked his hand around your waist and down to your front. His fingertips started to press down onto your clit and moving them side to side, causing you to moan out loudly.

“Whose pussy does it belong to?” Johnny questioned as he continued his movements on your swollen clit.

“Y-you — oh God!” you moaned out as he started to hit that one spot inside of you making you see stars.

A jolted slap was heard in the room as Johnny’s hand came down on your clit with a sharp slap. A cry-like moan falls from your lips as you push yourself back against Johnny.

“Whose does it belong to?” Johnny said again as he delivered three more slaps in a row to your stinging clit.

“You! Fuck — you do Johnny!” you cried out as you started to feel the same tightness feeling at the base of your spine start to coil.

“That’s fucking right. You're my baby. This pussy is mine. Let me find out you’re letting another man touch what is mine and I’m going to mess you up.” Johnny seethes as he pounded into you even harder than before.

The repetitive sensation of Johnny hitting your spot within your walls makes you see double the stars than before. “I’m gon—” Without warning you started to come around Johnny’s length. You felt your body shiver at how intense the orgasm was. Your legs started to shake as you started to feel the overstimulation take its course considering Johnny hasn’t relented to his intense pounding.

Johnny was so close to his release as he continued to pound into you even as you tightened yourself up. He continued to stimulate your overly abused clit, drawing cries from you. “Give me one more angel. Just one more for me.” Johnny said as he sounded restless trying to get that one last orgasm for himself.

“Nngh! S-so full and—and big! Feel so good!” You cried out as tears started to fall from your eyes as the overstimulation started to take its course officially through your body.

“That’s right baby, fuck — I make you feel so good.” Johnny said in between his teeth as he felt his balls tighten up, ready to release their load.

“Where do you want me to come angel?” Johnny asked as he wrapped his hand around your throat, as he looked at your fucked out expression through the mirror.

“Inside of me! Please, please, please.” You begged as you made eye contact with Johnny through the mirror. The way your eyes glistened with unshed tears, the flush on your face, the way your hair clung onto your sweaty forehead, and just the fucked outlook you were giving him was enough to make him blow his load inside of you.

Strings of curses left Johnny’s lips as his stomach clenched and thighs shake slightly as he let go inside of you completely. The feeling of his sticky ropes painting your walls, caused you to go into your third orgasm of the night.

As the two of you rode out your highs together, the weight of the situation between the two of you started to settle within the two of you. As Johnny pulled himself out, cleaning you and him in the process, a deathifying silence fell. You weren’t sure how to approach the topic. Do you say this was a one-time thing or are you guys actually together now?

“What I said about you being mine —” Johnny says as he helps you straighten your dress out and clean a bit of the running makeup on your face. “—I meant it.” He says in a gentle tone.

The moment those words left his words, you felt breathless at his slight confession. “Johnny I —”

“Please spare me if you’re going to reject me after all this.” He said as he played with a lock of your hair.

“I was going to say, I understood what you meant.” You said as you placed your hands on his chest, closing the slight gap between the two of you. “I don’t want someone else when I have you.”

Johnny leaned down and you met him halfway where the two of you shared a passionate kiss, sealing the promise you have for one another.

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct johnny #nct johnny suh smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #bodyguard #bodyguard x client #nct smut #nct johnny smut

607 notes · View notes

ln4smiamitrophy · 3 months

Text

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𐙚 summary; the one where carlos sainz finally meets charles’ childhood friend and can’t help but fall in love.

ʚɞ pairing; carlos sainz jr x reader

ᡣ𐭩 fc; julia.hatchh on insta

⭒ type; smau

⟡ a/n; feel free not to read this, this is just me going on a rant about austria. can i just say yesterday’s race was crazy!? i felt so bad for charles, that collision with oscar really did mess up his race but i’m so happy he was able to climb back up to p11, i wish he could’ve finished in the points but he showed his skills as a driver and it was amazing to watch.

as for the lando and max situation, in my personal opinion, i believe that both drivers made errors in their judgement throughout the battle, and i am well aware that lando had his own issues concerning track limits and that some of his moves on max may not have been the safest but that’s racing. however when looking at the crash alone, i do believe max is at fault. he was the inside driver, and he knows that he has to leave a cars width between him and the outside line. he did not do that and that’s what caused the crash. i personally believe that they both fought too aggressively and i understand that racing is, at its heart, a dangerous sport, but this is why there are safety regulations and rules in which were broken in the austrian grand prix by both drivers, but in the end, it was max who caused the crash, resulting in lando’s dnf and himself finishing in p5.

i also acknowledge that race control and the stewards took far too long in reacting to the battle and if they had been quicker, the crash may not have happened at all. lando had pointed out several times that the way in which max was reacting to his moves was against the rules put in place. their slow reaction caused the battle to continue, and they failed to put a stop to the dangerous situation the rules were set out to prevent causing both cars to suffer damage, especially lando’s, and max receiving a 10 second penalty. i think a situation like this shines light on how race control and the stewards have to be quick in their decision whilst also taking in all factors so situations that could put any driver at risk can be prevented.

when it comes to how both drivers are handling the situation, i do believe max is being more mature about it. however i also acknowledge that lando is still getting used to being in the fight for the win and as fans we have to understand that they are still human beings with real emotions, and that as human beings they may say things in the heat of the moment that they do not fully mean. everybody does it, it’s a normal thing. i hope they can talk it out amongst themselves and come to an agreement. in my personal opinion, i think max needs to accept that he was the cause of the crash and apologise for it and lando needs to accept that some of the moves he made on max were not the safest and apologise for that.

i would just like to say that in no way is this meant to be me sending hate to any driver, this is just my personal opinion. i am not saying that any of you reading this have to think the same way i do about it, i just wanted to voice my opinion as i know many other fans have.

again, i would just like to reiterate that these drivers are people, they are not machines and they have emotions. there are also things going on behind the scenes that we do not know about. i think everyone needs to keep that in mind when discussing their views on this and other matters surrounding this and every sport, celebrity etc.

this was a long one, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

enjoy the fic loves xx

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y/nusername

📍• melbourne grand prix circuit

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff and others

y/nusername what a lovely time

tagged; scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

comments…

charles_leclerc BREAKING NEWS!!! y/n finally attended a race!!

⤷ y/nusername rescheduled a shoot just for you, be grateful

user1 y/n finally at a race!?

⤷ user2 dream come true

arthur_leclerc so glad you were there, made it a bearable weekend

⤷ y/nusername i apologise profoundly for leaving you alone with charles for so long, i shall try to attend more

⤷ arthur_leclerc thank you don’t know how much more i can take

⤷ charles_leclerc hey!! i’m not that bad

⤷ y/nusername ….

user3 i missed charles x y/n content so much

user4 charles is contemplating life in that last pic

carlossainz55 wonderful to meet you

⤷ y/nusername you too !! hope to see you soon

⤷ user5 why do i lowkey ship it??

⤷ user6 they just met, calm tf down

and more…

———————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux and others

y/nusername this shoot was incredible, i had an amazing time ❤️ (yes this was the shoot i rescheduled due to the gp)

comments…

user1 how can one women be this hot??

charles_leclerc very grateful you rescheduled

⤷ y/nusername as you should be

user2 the outfit is EVERYTHING

⤷ user3 she devoured

user4 MOTHERRR

carlossainz55 looking good

⤷ y/nusername why thank you mr sainz

⤷ user5 is this his attempt at flirting?? 😭😭

alexandrasaintmleux marry me?

⤷ y/nusername meet you at the registry office in a half hour?

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m there 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

⤷ charles_leclerc y/n stop stealing my gf challenge

⤷ y/nusername no.

and more…

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y/nusername

📍• miami, florida

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

y/nusername your fav ferrari girl (& the two so called ferrari “drivers”)

tagged; charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

comments…

user1 bro she’s so gorgeous

user2 the only ferrari girl ever

charles_leclerc not you saying “drivers” as if you didn’t fail your test like 3 times

⤷ y/nusername and?? i can still driver better than you

alexandrasaintmleux prettiest girl

⤷ charles_leclerc what about me? 😔

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux you’re a pretty girl too charles

user3 carlos looking sooooo fine

*liked by y/nusername*

⤷ user3 Y/N LIKED!?

carlossainz55 don’t let her fool you, she’s evil

⤷ y/nusername the LIES!!

⤷ carlossainz55 you stole my drink and laughed in my face when i asked for just a sip

⤷ y/nusername you have legs, you could’ve used them to get another drink

and more…

———————————————————————y/nusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and others

y/nusername don’t call me, too busy in bali

comments…

user1 that dress is EVERYTHING

user2 y/n filling the void during f1 summer break

francisca.cgomes stunning as per usual

⤷ y/nusername coming from you, crazy

user3 wait isn’t carlos in bali

⤷ user4 omg is he??

⤷ user5 yeah he posted a story from a boat with bali tagged as the location

charles_leclerc can’t believe you opted for bali rather than spending time with me 😒

⤷ y/nusername oh you’ll get over it

alexandrasaintmleux let’s make out

⤷ y/nusername omg yes please 😍

and more…

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

y/nusername look who i found hiding on my boat

tagged @/carlossainz55

comments…

user1 wait so did they not go together? they just went at the same time

⤷ user2 apparently

carlossainz55 i was forced to take pictures all day 😔

⤷ y/nusername okay 1. you were not forced and 2. it was only like half an hour stfu

charles_leclerc girl don’t even try

⤷ y/nusername what??

⤷ charles_leclerc you know what

⤷ user3 HUH??!?

⤷ user4 the idea of charles saying girl is so funny to me

user5 still think they’d make a cute couple

alexandrasaintmleux “kiss my ass” i’ll definitely kiss your baby 🫦😘

⤷ y/nusername kiss my ass anytime you want sweetheart

⤷ charles_leclerc weird but sure

⤷ y/nusername @/charles_leclerc how do i put this gently?? she wasn’t talking to you idiot

———————————————————————

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, y/nusername and others

carlossainz55 is this what you kids call a “hard launch”?

tagged y/nusername

comments…

user1 i already love them so much

landonorris yes buddy, this is a hard launch

user2 my parents

user3 f1 bestie turned f1 wag, we love to see it

charles_leclerc if you hurt her, i will not hesitate to crash into every race

⤷ scuderiaferrari no charles

⤷ carlossainz55 @/charles_leclerc wouldn’t dream of it

user4 they’re so cute

y/nusername i wanted to soft launch 😔 soft launches are more fun

⤷ carlossainz55 i’m sorry mi amor, i just like showing you off ❤️

⤷ y/nusername …you’re forgiven ❤️

user5 I FUCKING CALLED IT!!! FROM DAY ONE!!!

———————————————————————

y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others

y/nusername wanted to soft launch cause it’s fun watching you all scramble for answers but i guess carlos is incapable so yk, here’s my wonderful, amazing, gorgeous boyfriend. (and about bali… no i didn’t “find him” 🫣)

tagged carlossainz55

comments…

user1 I KNEW THEY WERE IN BALI TOGETHER

user2 stop they’re so cute

user3 chef carlos came out in that second pic

⤷ y/nusername he kicked me out the kitchen. my own kitchen.

charles_leclerc i knew it was mistake getting you to come to a race

⤷ y/nusername girl stfu you begged

user4 vacation carlos is so sexy 😍

⤷ y/nusername i know right, making me feel things

carlossainz55 cariño ❤️

⤷ y/nusername te amo ❤️

user5 from day one. you guys will never forget how i called this from. day. one

alexandrasaintmleux stole my girl

⤷ y/nusername yk i’m always yours ❤️🤫

carlossainz55 when are you coming home?

⤷ y/nusername i’m on my way now

⤷ carlossainz55 good i have a surprise for you 😉

⤷ y/nusername running 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨

⤷ charles_leclerc no.

———————————————————————

no part 2 requests for this one pls xx i hope you all enjoyed

comment to be added to tag list

taglist; @danielshoe @amorrziinho @soamericn @urfavwelshie @xylinasdiary @cleaswn @marknolee @shineforever19 @formulaal @manicpixiemom @lemon-lav

#f1 #f1 drivers x reader #formula one #f1 fanfic #x yn #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #cs55 #cs55 x reader #cs55 imagine #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #cs55 fic #f1 smau #smau #fanfiction

448 notes · View notes

bigfan-fanfic · 10 months

Text

My Blooming Rose (Enchantress' Child!Reader x Ben Florian)

@iliumheightnights Hi friend! May I please request a little story? I'd love to read a story about Ben Florian dating a son of the enchantress reader. Reader still is learning magic and Ben helps him when he can and encourages him? All the fluff please?

In some respects, no one would necessarily blame your boyfriend's father for wanting to imprison your mother on the Isle of the Lost.

She did, after all, enchant a young, albeit spoiled, prince and condemn him (an eleven-year-old, mind you) to ten years of suffering and self-loathing in a body not his own.

But no. King Adam and his Queen would never have met if not for the Enchantress.

Besides, they learned well from the example of Queen Leah and King Stefan - don't piss off the magical entity in close proximity.

And so the Enchantress lived within Auradon, and you, her child, were born.

You're not sure you quite approve of the whole Isle of the Lost thing - your mother's punishments tended to get to people before they became irredeemable, so the idea of endless incarceration seems harsh, even by her standards.

But all the same, you are invited to Auradon Prep, mainly to study with the Fairy Godmother to hone your talents in magic. And since you aren't expected to enter a royal line, you don't even have to do some of the more inane Auradon courses.

But who would have thought that without any magic at all, you'd have ensorcelled the heart of Prince Ben.

Ben is just a spot of sunshine in your world, he's so affectionate and lovely.

And supportive!

He's figured out the loophole in the rule that he can't spend all his free time with you by organizing "study dates" in addition to normal dates.

But since magical homework and study is pretty involved, that just means he hangs around in your dorm with you more often than not.

Not that either of you mind.

Except this can sometimes lead to minor mishaps.

You're practicing a spell in the mirror, meant to help disguise someone by changing their appearance.

Focusing on your hair, trying to lengthen it just a little. Just a small test.

But then Ben leaps up to kiss you on the cheek and you wave the training wand just a little haphazardly-

And Ben gets a face-full of your magic.

"Oh my gosh, Ben! Are you okay?"

"Yup!" Ben groans from the floor. "Nothing broken. I think."

He hops back up to his feet, and you gasp.

Your boyfriend's smooth jaw has sprouted patchy growths of hair that are still thickening until they make a rather nice beard and mustache. "Ben... I..."

Ben sees himself in the mirror and grins. "Oh, this is nice!"

"It was an accident."

"If even your accidents are this great, you're gonna be a better wizard than Merlin!" Ben pats your shoulder before stroking his new beard. "It's not even scratchy!"

You blush. "You look really good with a beard."

"Do I look kingly?" Ben asks eagerly, striking a pose.

"You do, but let's try and find a counterspell quickly. Accidental magic tends to corrupt pretty fast. You might end up with the hair changing colors like a chameleon or something."

"That actually sounds kinda-"

"And then I wouldn't be able to see where to kiss you."

Ben instantly gets serious. "Let's hit the books."

"But uh... when you do reverse the spell... Maybe try it on purpose? I wanna see what kissing with a beard is like."

You grin. "Oh really? Why?"

"Cause when you're my Royal Consort, I'll probably grow out a beard and kiss you all the time, so... I wanna see what I'm working toward."

You laugh and then squeeze his hand. "In that case, let's get this thing reversed as soon as we can."

"Love you. My blooming rose."

"Love you. My noble king."

#ben florian x reader #ben florian x male reader #descendants x reader #descendants x male reader #descendants headcanons #headcanons

1K notes · View notes

aonungsmate · 2 years

Note

Hello I was wondering if I could request an Ao’nung x Reader, maybe reader could be Tsu’tey’s daughter from a woman he had mated with after learning of Neytiri’s and Jake’s mating, he had a woman that he had loved but he couldn’t have because he was betrothed to Neytiri. And that love bore fruit to our reader who is very close to the Sully family especially with Kiri whom she always defends when being teased by other children. She joins Norm and Max to the metkayina clan. And she’s just this badass with an ikran that was theorized by others to be the spawn of The great leonopteryx that Jake had tamed once. And Ao’nung is flabbergasted by this pretty na’vi riding such a dangerous animal? When the battle happens, she goes ham on the RDA and SAVES NETEYAM BC GDI LEAVE MY BOY ALONE and when they return theres a whole celebration and reader finally relaxes and shes been surrounded by curious na’vis alike bc phew baddie ‼️💅🏻 and ao’nung is such a simp tryna talk to her and rizz her up and it’s just ao’nung pining over her ackk

Destined for Might and Him

Ao’nung x Tsu’tey’s daughter!reader [Word Count: 3.1k]

🤷‍♀️uploading this after 123456789 years of draft!! Enjoy reading another rubbish fic😚💕

Warnings: mentions of death, spoilers

Jake has made countless mistakes since he joined the Omatikaya for his mission. Tsu’tey had never approved of him, until he actually saw him. He was betrothed to Sylwanin first, then came the humans, taking her away from his arms, Neytiri being the next suitable partner for him. As if there was a curse following him, a demon swooped Neytiri from him, though they were not that subtle. He has never seen Neytiri the way he looked at her older sister though.

Third time’s the charm, right?

In Tsu’tey’s case, it is. Being the next olo’eyktan meant he would be interacting with the entire clan, making sure that they felt safe even before his rule, heavily dedicating himself to making the hometree the most secure and comfortable place for their people. That’s where he met your mother, the forbidden fruit he’s always afraid to touch, only to see. He did not think it was right to look at another woman when he was promised to another man’s daughter. He was afraid that she would be too dainty for him to pursue.

Only to see, he said.

The third time he planned to mate with a woman was in the middle of the conflict. Right after he learned about Jake and Neytiri’s mating, he stormed off, not without giving Jake a good beating of course. It is when he actually had the chance to follow his heart, free of expectations. He soon learned that she too, was in love with him since he passed his iknimaya, hiding it from the rest of the clan as soon as she realized that she could not have him. Not without betraying the daughter of the olo’eyktan. So she comforted him, became friends with him instead. With his pride broken, he took everything that he thought would put his pieces back to being worthy of a warrior. Eywa, did it feel good to follow his heart and tell your mother how he really felt. So that’s why Sylwanin used to talk of mating as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Somehow as he reminisced, he has really begun to see himself growing older with your mother. So, he set himself a new goal. To protect his love, and his people. Neytiri did not matter to him that much anymore, having moved on from the ghost of the past, accepting Jake Sully as his brother once again, deciding to fight against the sky demons with dreamwalkers whom Eywa have shown promise in.

What he did not expect was you. So imagine his surprise when he came home, your mother guiding his hands on her torso, telling him, Think you can handle one more, ma tsu’tey?

And so, the war came. Battles were won, people were lost. Including the mightiest warrior your mother has ever known. Your father, too young to be taken by Eywa, but alas. It was time for him to embrace the great mother’s comforting presence. He thought it was a shame it would take him years before he actually gets the chance to clutch you in his arms. He’s long entrusted you to his brother though. He made sure Jake promises him to look after you and your mother after all.

A beautiful young na’vi, born into war, just a few months before Jake Sully’s first son was born. You were then named, (y/n) te Rongloa Yenateu’ite. You were a carbon copy of your father, your mother actually exclaimed Tsu’tey’s name when she saw you having the eyes and seemingly permanent daring look your father had. You never really knew your father. Your mother would speak highly of him every night, stories and songs written by her, dedicated with her love for her long lost love. You would see her casting a longing gaze at the walls of your tent whenever she braids your hair, telling you of her and her past love’s nightly escapades when the people would head to their tents to sleep. Amazement and sheer pride written on your face when hearing of your father.

That’s when your mother would sigh audibly, completely defeated that you would always be a daddy’s daughter even without meeting him.

It has been a few weeks since your adoptive family moved to Awa’atlu to seek uturu. Your mother has long passed away, developing a sickness a few years ago. Life in the waters for them was not easy, having new responsibilities and things to work on, especially the breathing.

You were the seventh Toruk Makto, for Eywa’s sake.

Your iknimaya was going perfectly, along with Neteyam. Neteyam proved himself to be a mighty warrior, having wrestled with one of the toughest-looking ikran in the rookery. Kiri showed that she had the strongest connection to Eywa when she ‘befriended’ an ikran at a very young age, earning the title of tsakarem. You, on the other hand, basically confirmed the undeniability that you were Tsu’tey te Rongloa Ateyitan’s daughter, after an unusual occurrence in the ikran rookery. The “most dangerous iknimaya”, as Mo’at would say. As soon as Txop’alei sealed his bond with his ikran, as you stepped through the narrow path, a large ikran– No, a Toruk towered over the ikran rookery, making all of you yell in surprise followed by hisses from Neytiri behind you, and screeches from ikran fleeing away.

Your heart skipped a beat when you crossed gazes with the Toruk, stepping forward cautiously as its vibrant orange reflected on your yellow eyes, examining its slightly emerald green tinges on its wings. Soon enough, you were greeted with a threatening roar, making you gulp as soon as you realized that you were being chosen. Wrestling with an ikran is one thing, but with the great leonopteryx? It’s like a death sentence. Maybe it’s your mom or dad calling for you through Eywa, but would the warrior side of you really give up this thrilling opportunity?

Xi’di. That’s what you named your Toruk. Neytiri says it looked familiar. She thinks it’s a child of her mate’s Toruk. Mo’at says it’s your fathers gift to you from the other side when she pointed out how similar the green tinges match your father’s ikran colors.

You were more than happy to get to know your friend, Xi’di, through sneaking out and having late night flights. It wasn’t long before you were exposed to war, with Jake asking you to spot demon machines when the stars multiplied in the skies, together with his sons Neteyam and Lo’ak, brothers you would consider them as.

“Stop the useless yammering and out with it,” you spoke, jutting your chin upwards to emphasize that you were a greater warrior than he is.

“I saw your ikran,” Aonung inhaled deeply, petting the ilu swimming around the two of you, “it is bigger than the others” he pointed out, his incorrectness making you roll your eyes. You thought it was pathetic that he would attempt to hold a conversation with you after participating with yet again another standoff with your brothers. Your ears flickered slightly at the sound of celebrations around you, children laughing as they danced around.

You huffed at his curious glance, “It is a Toruk,” you smiled wickedly at his reaction, “Surprised that a girl smaller than you is a better warrior?” He scoffed at you, a mocking smile written on his face as he changed the subject back to something related to breathing.

The Metkayina chief’s son was not as who you expected him to be. He was arrogant, condescending, the complete opposite of what Neteyam was like, as the former olo’eyktan’s son.

“You wish,” he smirked, remembering how you checked him out earlier in the day as he raised the nets, his toned arms making your heart gallop. “Metkayina men are known for having mighty arms,” he boasted, too absorbed with himself that he somehow missed how you bashfully avoided eye contact for a second, a blush overtaking your cheeks as he continued on and on about what he has achieved, and his goals to be realized before and after he becomes olo’eyktan.

Regardless of the boastful and proud demeanor, Ao’nung lives up to his status though, having the toughest feats than the men his age, hunting the most, sparring the best, donning the most pleasing face in the clan and all, not that you would admit that to his face.

You remembered the faint voice of your father echoing from the tree of souls, telling that he might not be able to handle it if a pompous na’vi were to win your heart, you were Tsu’tey’s daughter for Eywa’s sake. Nobody would be worthy of you if he was actually there to guard you from presumptuous young men. So, you heed your father’s vivid wishes, promising yourself that you would be in your most sound and logical self when it comes to matters like this. Jake would always nod at you with pride when he hovers to size up your suitors, as soon as he witnesses you reject potential mates.

No wonder he and your biological father grew on each other.

You were not keen on migrating to another clan, only knowing the forest since you were born. You were angry. Furious, that the sky demons were responsible for your family's pain. You would never hold that against your adoptive father though. You loved him more than anything in the world, together with your half na'vi brothers and sisters, but you could not give up the forest. And so, you held your ground and decided to stay with the Omatikaya people.

Since the Sully's arrived in Awa'atlu, your siblings have received nothing but a flurry of insults and looks of disgust from most of the village people. Especially from the chief's son.

As the eldest sister, you felt responsible for making your brothers and sisters feel safe. Back in the forest, you would glare at every stupid boy who would dare sneak up on your sister and call her a freak, you would cast the most frightening look on your face when people would point at your youngest brother. But the most important of all, you would smile the sweetest directed at your younger siblings.

So when you heard of Kiri's situation from Norm, you immediately called upon Xi'di and braved the waters to come to where your family was. Horns and spears were let out when the Metkayina guards caught sight of a large beast coming upon their island, terrified yells from people left and right were heard, except for Lo'ak who let out a laugh of disbelief when he laid his eyes on the majestic Toruk. The colors were oh-so familiar, clad in a saddle that screamed Omatikaya, a dangling string of beads around its neck, the diversity of materials that came from none other than him.

A loud roar resonated within Awa'atlu, startling Neytiri who was busy tending to Kiri. She frowned at the thought of you, thinking that she was imagining things.

"Did you hear that Ma'itan?" Her question was answered soon enough when she noticed him running towards the crowd outside and exclaimed, "Sister, you have come!"

And there it was.

Ao'nung almost snapped his neck at how fast it turned when he caught you in his peripherals. His eyes almost bulged out of its sockets at how fast it widened when you turned your eyepiece upwards as you broke the bond with Xi'di.

"My mighty warrior! It has been too long baby brother," you slung your arms around Neteyam's frame, telling him how much he's grown in just a few months. Gladness and worry was written on your face when he brought up Kiri's situation, "You mean she had a seizure underwater ?!"

Ao'nung noticed how your waterline easily filled up with tears waiting to be shed when you approached the marui where Kiri was currently being taken care of.

What made his feelings definite was the brief eye contact with him that you shared though.

"Thank you, great mother! Thank you!"

You wailed with your family, hugging each other where Neteyam was lying down, grateful that your family has been once again blessed by Eywa. The sky people had wrought destruction in just a matter of a few weeks since your arrival in Awa'atlu after you decided to stay until you have reassured Kiri's well-being.

You were feeling beyond terrified at what had just occurred. You saw your brothers and sisters getting chased by the demon machineries, three of them tied on the huge ship that drove on the waters, spurring the darkness inside you as you fought and fought and fought until you have ensured that they were all safe.

Your brother, Neteyam.

The brother that you have known the longest, shot near where his heart lies, sealing RDA's fate when you saw your brother wheezing on a rock, who wanted nothing but to come home. You were soon enough blinded by rage, together with Neytiri who channeled her anger to retrieve her daughters who were left on the ship.

Everything was a blur that night. Guns and armies thrown left and right, ships exploding, taking hundreds of lives, both na’vi and human. You didn’t think you could have handled it well without the guidance of your father. You felt rage and hurt. Seeing your brother writhe in pain, shivering in the numbing coldness of the water raging against the rocks, you felt like you have just had your heart thrown away.

Your childhood friend Spider, getting sliced across his chest. Your mother, completely having her judgment clouded over her dying son, her daughters, desperate to be freed from the arms of a demon who somehow took pleasure in making your father's life null.

Then it was all submerged in the harsh waters.

You cried out for your companion and rode your Toruk, circling around the sinking demon ship, tears continuously flowing in frustration.

Where was everyone?

You swore you almost lost your mind, but then you remembered.

They were Omatikaya. They will survive.

So, you swallowed the impending grief. You forced yourself to think clearly through the bond, Xi’di responding with the loudest roar it could muster, and swooped down towards the direction of the rocks where you Neteyam laid.

At the sight of Neteyam, you cried.

It was that day when Ao'nung first saw you cry in Neteyam's arms, who was also sniffling at the thought of almost dying and missing out on his siblings' lives. He ruffled Tsireya's hair as she cried in relief, thankful that his sister was also safe.

The people cried. The people mourned. The people had their reunion with their families.

Sully’s stick together. And stick together, you did.

All of you were safe.

“You okay, kid?” Jake mumbled against the top of your head, embracing you and Neteyam as soon as he climbed up the shores, to which you responded by sobbing and hugging him tight. Neytiri had Neteyam against her chest, kissing his forehead, thanking the great mother all over again.

You turned your heads at the sound of water splashing once more, revealing Spider.

“Monkey boy!” Kiri exclaimed, smiling at the sight of her friend, pressing a hand against his chest. You untangled yourself from your father, fussing over Tuk and Neteyam as you see Lo’ak and Spider get squished against your father’s chest.

As you pressed your lips against Tuk’s forehead, you somehow met Ao’nung’s gaze, casting a soft smile at him as you observed him rubbing Tsireya’s shoulder in affection as she cried in his arms, completely being washed over with relief and mostly just overstimulated from the war you had just gone through.

And soon enough, it was time for a celebration of their victory against the sky people.

Fires were started, wood were piled up on one another, the children holding hands together as they sing praises to the great mother, celebrating the victory of their people, ever grateful for the safety of who remained, and prayed for the guidance of Eywa to help those who were lost, to come home to her warm embrace.

Ao’nung fixed the headdress he was donning, a symbol of his status, as he sat beside his sister, scanning his gaze amongst the sea of his people.

And then there was you.

Your eyes were piercing as you held your gaze, the brutal reality of his feelings slowly sinking in as you tucked one of your freshly braided hair, his eyes slowly trailing over the accessories you saved for occasions like this.

Did you have different sets of necklaces for ceremonies?

Were they of rare materials? Because he has never seen a woman this beautiful, he wondered.

He was so struck with your fierceness he did not notice that he was the only one left on the mats laid out on the high platform that was planted on the sand for celebrations. He placed a hand against his left knee, slowly rising from his spot to walk towards you, perhaps ask for a dance?

You were speaking to him as soon as he stopped walking, him blurting out a question he’s been meaning to ask, only to be responded with a huge hit to his ego.

“Surprised that a girl smaller than you is a better warrior?”

He never let people step on his pride.

Not even his sister whom he closetedly doted on, completely overtaken by the idea that ‘he’s a man, so he should not be seen as vulnerable’. He soon learned that that shouldn’t be the case though.

With you to pursue? He’s going to relearn everything, it seems.

You were different.

But perhaps those differences would be the factors to taking him a step closer to you.

To a future where you and him embracing under the starry skies as constellations meld together as one during the darkest of the nights, would be a normal occurrence between the two of you.

That, you did.

Months of building himself up in your eyes, and you finally learned to see him as he hoped you would.

“Good, because I see you too,” you remember him saying those exact words after you practically swept him off his feet, his pretentious demeanor once again taking over to spare him of your teasing, not that it went by unnoticed.

You knew him too well.

So when he promised to take care of you, you knew he would.

Just like when he promised to not spoil his first son to the point that he’d grow up like him, you knew he’d end up eating his words.

You knew him, after all.

You see him, in both light and darkness, you see Ao’nung.

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Edit: 💀somebody pointed out a misplaced paragraph so i went to remove that one ohmygofd

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