#she feels her heart is about to explode off her chest

[lyramundana]

When she was little, Veronica had a babysitter who took care of her while her parents were busy and tutored her. His name was Minho, a young teenager who had recently moved from South Korea with his parents, and needed some extra money. He was Veronica's first crush, the name she wrote in big red letters on her notebook with pink hearts around it, and the face she imagined when she pictured the charming princes from the fairytales he read to her. Then, he moved to another town when she was 11 and so she never saw him again.

She goes to highschool, makes new friends, and gets a new crush at 14, this time her chemistry teacher's cute son that played his father's assistant when he happened to be there. He recently started college and he gradually stopped coming, but Veronica wouldn't forget the great moments they had fooling around class or almost exploding the lab.

Time passes, Veronica is currently in her last year in highschool, freshly returned from holidays and ready to take anything this year has in store for her until her graduation. After surviving puberty and final exams, she feels there's nothing that can shock her anymore, not even the news of their former teacher retiring.

But when she sees their new teacher enter the classroom and introduce himself, Veronica can feel the exact moment her heart stops beating for a millisecond. Because right in front of her, stands non other than Lee Minho. Her babysitter, childhood crush, and now in charge of her academic future. And it doesn't end there, because when she gets interviewed for a part-time job at the new tea shop next to school, turns out her mentor is the Han Jisung, still a college student but also the shop's co-owner.

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

[tonycries]

I Wanna Get Freaky On Camera

Synopsis. On your knees in front of your boyfriend, it was just an innocent video, right? So why are you hearing his best friend’s voice from behind the screen?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, being recorded, voyeurism, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, mentioned threesome, cowgirl, dirty talk, pet names (babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.5k

A/N. Surprise post. Art by @_3aem on X.

“Smile for the camera, babe.”

You would - if you weren’t choking on his throbbing cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, throaty little gurgles muffled by his leaking tip hitting the back of your throat. 

The flashlight was blinding. 

Harsh light bouncing off your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes, pupils blown. Chest rising and falling erratically, hungry gaze locked on the way you gag and moan around his dick. “Mmm yeah- oh fuck yeah, deeper. Milk me dry, babe. Look s’pretty on film.”

Strangled praises only spurring you to obey mindlessly, you relax your throat - shoving his pulsing dick deeper and deeper. Inch by inch. Your nose pressing into the tufts of hair on his pelvis, wet with precum and spit. Too cock-drunk to think too hard about the rustling from the screen.

Precum salty on your tongue, you flick his sensitive slit in a way that makes him throw his head back - phone unsteady in one hand, the other searing on your scalp. Breath hitching, he bobs your head in increasingly urgent movements - up, up, up. Desperate, jerky thrusts of his hips like he’s trying to fuck something delicious out for you.

Your boyfriend's knuckles are white on his phone. Deliriously, you wonder why the fuck he even bothered with the video at this point - too shaky, too impatient. 

Almost as if he could read your mind, a low whisper rings in your ear, breath hot on your face. “Don’ worry about that, babe.”, zooming in on your swollen, glossy lips. “Jus’ focus on what you’re doing like the filthy slut you are.”

Feeding off the electricity crackling in the air, you tighten the hands massaging his tight balls. Pressing right between them in the way you knew drove him crazy. 

You squeal - as much as you can with his throbbing erection lodged in your throat - nails digging into his hips as they tremble and buck into your plush mouth. “Ah! Oh fuck- Hngh- Baby, m’gonna m’gonna-”

His words turn into breathy moans, signaling the beginning of the end. With a final thrust, he explodes in thick ropes of cum that paint your mouth white. You struggle to swallow the hot spurts of seed quickly enough, coughing around his twitching cock. Cum spilling out of your bruised lips, specks splattering onto the back of his phone. 

Tears stinging your eyes, but you still refuse to break eye contact - batting your lashes innocently at him as you milk his cock for everything he’s worth.  

Chest heaving, lust-drunk words tumble out of his lips, “S’perfect. Look at her hah- look how fucking pretty she swallows my cum.” 

Words you’re slowly realizing aren’t meant for you.

Heart dropping straight to your dripping cunt, eyes widening as it strikes you - this fucker was on video call.

Now, he didn’t mean to trick you. He really did feel so awful about it - but watching the way his pretty girl’s lips stretched so sinfully around his cock - he really couldn’t bear to be stingy enough to hide it. 

Which is why, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his lips, he pats your hair soothingly as you sputter. “Now now. We’re not done yet. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t give my buddy a front row seat to you creaming on my cock?”

Humiliation mingling with something carnal inside you, you freeze in shock as an awfully familiar voice chuckles from the phone. “C’mon now, sweetheart. I bet you’ll cum faster with an audience.” 

Thighs squeezing together. Heat rushing to your cheeks. Shit. Maybe you will. 

And for all the dark confidence on your boyfriend's face, you relish in the breathless gasp escaping him as you stand. Knees stinging where you straddle his hips - still-hard cock glistening with cum and saliva, leaking onto his toned abdomen. 

Surprise flickers across his face, swiftly replaced by a predatory excitement echoed by the appreciative groan from his best friend. 

“Well, might as well put on a show, huh?”

And with that, you sink down completely onto his still-sensitive length, groaning at the feeling of him throbbing inside you, heavy balls pressing into your ass. Tears clinging to your lashes at the delicious stretch, you don’t give yourself time to adjust to his thick cock, grinding in feral, mindless motions with reckless abandon. 

One hand has a bruising grip on your hips, steadying your rhythm as he thrusts up into you at an unforgiving pace matching yours. The other, angled just right to capture your dripping, wet hole stretched so shamefully on his throbbing dick. 

“That’s right, show him that perfect view. Goddamn. Imagine how jealous he is- fucking his fist just wishing that was you.”

“Sh-shit. She jus’ got wetter. Looks s’good with her pretty pussy stuffed.” Low groans spill from his phone, making you buck \wildly into his twitching cock. 

White-hot ropes of pleasure run down your spine at the lewd squelches sounding from the speaker - your boyfriend’s best friend not even trying to hide his desperate chase for pleasure.

Balls stinging your ass at the merciless cadence, it’s all you can do to brokenly stammer out “Sh-show.”

A moment fumbling to switch the camera and you wince as the light hits your eyes. A jolt going down your body at his best friend’s disheveled state.

Greedy gaze flickering between your boyfriend - brows furrowed and bottom lip under his teeth as he focused on fucking your snug cunt - and his best friend on the screen - hungry gaze locked on you and thumb mercilessly teasing his leaking tip. Veiny hand moving up and down. Up and down up and-

“Shit, baby. You’re hah- clenching down on me so hard, like being watched, hm?” a dangerous murmur. You whine mindlessly in agreement, mixing with the relentless slapping of skin as you fuck yourself deeper and deeper onto his heated cock. 

“Hngh- M’getting so fucking hard just watching her drunk on your cock. Look s’good split open on it.”

“Yeah? She’d probably look better split open on two. Maybe we should let you join in next time. Would you like that, babe? My little cockslut?”

You jolt as you’re finally addressed as the men spoke over you as if you were nothing more than an object. A carnal, ugly part of you delighting in the way you were so used. 

“Oh god, yes.” you pant, words pulling you closer and closer to the edge, head spinning so deliriously. “Wan’ both of you. Wanna feel both of you inside me. I need it.”

Your boyfriend's eyes narrow, pupils dilated with lust as he responds, “Anything for my greedy girl. But for now…” his voice trails off, thrusting deeper into your snug cunt. 

Onscreen, his best friend groans, doubling down on the hasty hand moving along his throbbing length. “Fuck, I wish I was there.”

A hum of agreement, “C’mon now. Beg me to fill you up, slut. Make sure our lil’ friend hears how desperate you are.”

“Yes, yes, yes” you chant, lost in the haze of pleasure. “Fill me up, please. Want it dripping out of me.”

At your words, your boyfriend’s pace falters, thrusts becoming erratic and desperate as he approaches his climax - his best friend not far behind, fist flying fervently up and down his glistening length - in tandem with the ruthless cock ramming into you.

“God. Such a good little slut f’us” your boyfriend praises, voice strained with pleasure. “Cum for us, baby. Let us see how much you want it.”

And that’s all it takes for you to see stars behind your closed lids, riding out wave after wave of pleasure on your boyfriend’s twitching cock. Finally, he empties inside you with a guttural groan, filling your fluttering walls to the brim with his seed. 

So much- there was so much. Seems he was the one that adored having an audience. Though, with the way your pussy is greedily milking his cock, you can’t say you’re far behind.

Your thighs shake in pain and pleasure as his hot cum leaks out of your overfilled pussy, dripping down your legs and onto his quivering balls as he fucks into you like an animal. Over and over and-

With all the strength you can muster, you crack an eye open to glance at the screen - only to catch the heavenly sight of him losing control. Fist faltering on his throbbing erection as with a final, forceful tug he spurts thick ropes of seed. An orgasm so hard that it leaks onto his lap and reaches his chest.

The three of you chasing peak after peak. So sinfully. 

Your ears ring, vision spotty as your high finally bates. Spent, you collapse against your boyfriend’s muscled chest, heart hammering wildly against both of your ribs, and cunt still twitching in sensitivity.

Still disoriented and completely fucked out, you almost miss the low murmur from above you. Almost.

“Can’t wait till you’re here to see this in person.”

- GOJO and GETO, TOJI and SHIU, SUNA and Osamu, ATSUMU and SAKUSA, Eren and Armin

A/N. I miss when this song was everywhere.

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[a-hazbin-reader]

How do you think Alastor would react to being called cute, hot etc.along those lines

Like how would it make him feel? Pre-Wifey. Like it’s Wifey, but she ain’t wifey yet lol

Wifey rizzing up her man??? 👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being TORTURED, Reader has that WIFE energy, Alastor thinks about killing someone

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor was a confident man who prided himself on not being taken unawares by anything or anyone

The keyword is was

But meeting you and getting to know you has completely caught him off guard because he's FALLING for you

He knew you were a dangerous woman, but he didn't realize just what sort of danger he was in

In danger of losing his HEART~

He couldn't help it, you were beautiful and witty along with a number of other fantastic qualities/talents

And when you smiled at him it made him freeze in his tracks, even the simplest eye contact made him feel flushed

But then you opened your mouth and actually spoke to him which made things so much more difficult

"You look good today, Alastor~ Did you do something different? Very debonair~"

He wonders if you're torturing him like this on purpose, if you know how he feels about you

But he does his best to remain unfazed, or at least not let you see how your words affect him

"I can't say I've done anything new, but I appreciate that someone around here notices my good looks~"

Your soft laugh makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost blushes when your fingers play with the ends of his hair

"I always notice you, Alastor."

He's at least able to wait until you leave the room to suddenly collapse on a table, steam coming out of his ears as he clutches at his chest

He would be insanely jealous if you acted this way with anyone else but you seem to reserve it all for him, something he's secretly grateful for

Even when you're drunk, you always seem to find a way to make him fluster

Alastor finds you at the bar, cheeks pink from the alcohol in your system, talking to the bartender about something

Or someone

"-he's just so handsome..! I can't get over it-"

Alastor takes a seat next to you, cutting off some random guy from taking the seat in hopes of getting an easy mark out of you

"Who's handsome now?"

He's totally not asking because he's jealous, or trying to figure out who he's going to hunt down and ki-

You hiccup and give him a drunken smile, leaning in to get in his face, which immediately makes his heart race

"You are~ Hand...some~"

Alastor can feel the heat rushing up to his face as you poke his nose before clumsily leaning back to get your drink

Okay, you've definitely had enough to drink

"I think you've had enough for tonight, let's get you home, my dear."

You whine and pout as he drags you out of the bar, only complying when he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady

He hopes that you're too drunk to remember the way he blushes the entire way home with you, holding you tight

It doesn't help that you're so snuggly when you're drunk, nuzzling your head under his chin

He almost explodes when he manages to pry you off of him and lay you down on your bed only for you to stare at him with glassy eyes

"Mm...that's hot...you're so hot~"

He rubs his hand over his face in an effort to hide the embarrassing choked sound that escapes him

"Please... just go to sleep..."

He's less sure that you're messing with him when you say things like that while drunk out of your mind

Your worst attacks are the sneak attacks that come out of nowhere for him, making it painfully obvious how much he feels for you

He's eating when you suddenly come in, rolling your eyes as you sit next to him, listening to all the little noises he makes as he eats

He can't help it, the food is delicious~

You suddenly grab a napkin and dab the corner of his mouth, giving him a small smile

"You're cute, you know that?"

He almost chokes on his food, your words along with the physical touch making his mind go blank

"C-cute!?"

Fuck, his voice cracked, making him blush uncontrollably as you obviously try not to laugh at him

"Ahem! Cute is not a proper word to describe me, I am many things, but cute isn't one of them..!"

You take his plate away from him, helping yourself to his meal as he rants about how he's not cute

"Say what you will, but I think you're a very cute man~"

He just groans and lays his head on the table, openly blushing now as he watches you eat

"I'm not... cute..."

You just laugh at him and it makes his heart beat a little faster despite his visible pouting

You're an evil woman who's torturing him for falling for you, trying to make him confess so you can tease him about it

He's sure of it...but it doesn't diminish his growing feelings for you any less

This one was so fun 😭

[thewritingofamadwoman]

Billy’s Girl

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader!Reader (reader’s last name is Emmerson; no reason, just cuz)

Warning: Fluff, making out, Billy realizing he’s in love, and Jason Carver being the dick that he is.

Enjoy & let me know what you think! 💙

“Dude look at Emmerson, she looks fucking hot in that cheerleading outfit.”

“Nah man have you seen Chrissy? She looks amazing.”

“Yeah but have you seen that skirt on Emmerson? If she jumps a little higher, I’ll be able to..”

“Finish that fucking sentence Carver, and the only thing you’ll be able to do is drink your lunch through a fucking straw.”

Billy Hargrove turned around from his seat on the bleachers to glare at the boy seated directly behind him, who was objectifying his girlfriend. Now, dont get it twisted. No one loves cat calling more than Billy Hargrove. But now that he’s a taken man things have changed. He only had heart eyes for his girl. Little Ms Emmerson was one of the first people he met in this shitty, bumble fuck town when he first moved here with his fucked up family. She was beautiful, kind, and sweet, the love of his life. She was the light to Billy’s darkness. He promised her and himself that he would protect her at all costs. And he intended to keep that promise.

Jason Carver visibly gulped at Billy’s threat, knowing that the Hargrove boy wasn’t kidding. Billy’s glare deepened and it his nose flared, almost like a bull ready to charge.

“Sorry Hargrove, didn’t see you there. Just meant to say that your girl is gorgeous.” Jason said, attempting to calm the situation.

Calling her gorgeous? Strike two.

“Yeah I know she’s fucking gorgeous Carver, I’ve got eyes. Just keep your fucking eyes on your own girlfriend and shut your fucking mouth,” and with that, Billy turned back around, eyes back on his girl as she practiced with the rest of her team.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned and found Billy’s eyes immediately. She smiled wide and blew him a kiss before getting into the next routine formation. Billy pretended to catch the floating kiss and brought it to his heart. One of the girls around her whispered something and Billy watched as his girl smiled and blushed, the girls around her obviously teasing her about her their relationship. Her bright eyes found his again and Billy’s swore that in that moment, he’d never felt a love stronger than that. His heart tightened in his chest and he felt like he could explode with pride.

Practice ended an hour later and Billy found himself outside, leaning on his Camaro and patiently waiting on his girl. With anyone else, Billy would have driven off, angry at having looked like a fool for waiting an hour for someone. But for his girl? Billy would wait until the end of time. The gym doors opened and the sound of a gaggle of girls made its way to Billy’s ears. He looked up, arms crossed in his denim jacket as he waited to spot her, a smirk immediately forming on his lips when he did. She locked eyes with him and said goodbye to her friends, making her way towards him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for waiting for me,” she said, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his.

“Anything for you. Just don’t make it a habit. I barely wait for Maxine when she’s late,” he teased giving her a genuine smile, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

“That’s mean, you should wait for her more often. It’s going to get chilly soon,” she gently berated him, her fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. Billy suppressed the shiver he felt coming on, and pulled her closer. She giggled in his arms, pressed so tightly against him, and loving every moment of it.

“I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to think about my little shit head sister right now. I want to think about you in that little uniform of yours,” he whispered against her lips, barely touching. She played along, whispering a reply against his lips as well.

“Oh? And what about my uniform?”

“Just that it’ll look way better on my bedroom floor,” he growled and closed the space between them, pressing his lips hungrily against hers. He swallowed her gasp and slipped his tongue into her mouth as he devoured her. One of his hands slipped down to her behind, using his large palm to give her an impromptu squeeze. She squealed into the kiss and Billy laughed against her lips. When they broke apart, they were both panting.

“Woah, where did that come from?” She asked breathlessly. Billy grinned and nuzzled his nose against her again.

“What, can’t a guy show his girl just how much he’s missed her?” She smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet embrace.

What she didn’t see, however, was Jason Carver’s car behind her as she and Billy were making out.

What’s she also didn’t see, was that while Billy was hugging her, he was sporting the biggest shit eating grin; his arm around his girl’s waist and middle finger up at Jason as he drove by, a scowl on his face.

[alessabriel]

Female Characters Arcane

Summary: 

Character: Vi (Violet), Sevika, Jinx (Powder), Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda, Grayson, Ambessa Medarda, Renata Glasc, Cassandra Kiramman. 

Cw. ninguna. 

➤  Vi (Violet).

In retrospect Vi had always been the strong one in everything, there was so much she carried inside her that sometimes she felt nothing short of exploding so hard and imploding until she disappeared. She didn't know if she felt like a supernova in moments, maybe she was exploding and never knew it or so she thought until she felt herself melting against soft hands, long fingers, slightly calloused fingertips, manicured nails and such a delicious feeling that shook her from bone to muscle. She felt boneless, naked, exposed, vulnerable and muscles exposed to the open air, naked nerves, nerves that you caressed so sweetly letting everything inside her melt and stir in an amalgam of comfort, warmth and coziness. It was cozy, it felt good to be comforted, cared for. It felt good, cared for, loved, adored even and it was embarrassing how she pushed her face into your chest; rubbing her cheek against the softness, bewitching herself in your scent, clinging to your body and wrapping her arms around your hips, squeezing in the hope that you wouldn't disappear.

"Because you love me so much pretty girl?"

He doesn't know why he asks, he just does, because he doesn't think he deserves so much love (if he does, he deserves it so much that you consider it almost a crime that he doesn't believe it).

"Because it's you, I love you from head to toe, the satisfying or unsatisfying feelings included, when you come home from a boxing league fight in Zaun with bloody knuckles, when I see you come home from work in that uniform I know you still hate, when you wake up with your hair a mess and in a bad mood, when you sleep, when you think you're not presentable, as a teenager and right now, I can't imagine myself anywhere else but next to you Vi" you recite with such ease, syrupy words rolling off your tongue with such sweetness and ease that they seem like honey, as you gently cradle her cheeks between your palms adoring her features; slightly bushy eyebrows, bright powder blue eyes, deceptively long eyelashes, nose just a little crooked from his countless fights, the small scar that gently parts his left eyebrow, the nose piercing, slightly plump lips and the scar on his upper lip, the tattoo on his cheek of a Roman six, the freckles that so subtly dot his skin"....I love everything about you Violet, I always will, until you let me."

Vi didn't pretend that this answer didn't completely disarm her; bone by bone, nerve by nerve until she felt almost dissected by every word and how your love seeped like water through her fingers, your loving gaze was only the last nail that cemented her love for you. Your love was intense when self-sabotage was at her fingertips and nightmares made her believe she was unloved, it was soft and gentle when she felt discouraged and decided, overwhelming when she felt needy and could not express it, violent when she refused to hear that she was loved. If you loved her you filled every nook and cranny, and helped her to get through, to move on and go on. You simply knew how to meticulously dissect her, skin layer by skin layer, muscles, bones, joints and veins to sneak your love in. You disassembled her to an almost molecular degree or could be compared to it. So, she just hid her face in her partner's shoulder, feeling her cheeks flushed beyond redness even her ears felt hot, her heart racing, her hands sweating and even her body's response to your caresses and words.

"...never leave me love"

"I will never rosita" you reply in a soft voice caressing the back of her neck, playing with the soft strands of her pink hair.

"...don't call me that" Vi whispered, even though she loved that cheesy nickname.

And you always understood her, as Vi understood you.

➤ Sevika 

For Sevika the notion of a quiet night was a lot, but occasionally this was; arriving at her apartment in Zaun (the only good thing about being Silco's second in command) where you usually arrived earlier since you worked in the weapons factories, hence you arrived before her. So arriving was a daily process, arriving at the place they shared where it always smelled like a meal cooked a little at a time, sometimes it smelled like a familiar food or a random dessert.

She craved something sweet.

She never knew how her partner was always aware of when she was craving something sweet, but she had an uncanny accuracy to it and today after dealing with Jinx's problems, having to fix them and not being able to complain because Jinx's self-proclaimed father would tell her to shut up, as if her job included babysitting a girl over 18. Fuck.

"From here I can see smoke coming out of that head of yours Vika."

Before she could even articulate a word a plate with a generous piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her with a cutlery, she justly occupied something sweet to get over the bad drink.

"...again another mess I had to clean up" she grumbled annoyed, not in the mood to elaborate.

"Jinx, right?"

Sevika just affirmed, before taking the first bite, the chocolate exploded in his mouth and relaxed him a little, it was the little treats you usually always gave him, along with intimacy, and a life together that softened his heart.

"I don't want to bore you with the details sweetie" he replies before taking another bite of cake.

"you never bore me what happened Vika?"

The best nights are those where he eats something sweet prepared by the hands of the woman he loved and just talk, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything, about the future they dreamed together as children (although it was not the same it was close to what they imagined although with the difference that she herself could never give you everything she dreamed of giving you), about how they were so fucked up that nothing could get them out of that hole but together it was worth it or about the day of both of them. Sometimes she allowed herself to daydream, to dream of a better life to be able to give her partner, a place where they both didn't have to be so meddled with everything they knew would cost them in the long run.

"I love you Vika" you whispered in a syrupy voice, before stealing a kiss from Sevika that tasted like chocolate and expensive cigars.

Sometimes Sevika felt good like this.

➤ Jinx (Powder)

Mylo's voice sometimes upset her more than she could bear, more than she was willing to tolerate and she felt like scratching her scalp until she reached her skull, to go even further to her brain and to be able to shut up that irritating voice. Now she was not the Powder who felt bad about everything, who felt her spirit die with every veiled insult, with every "whenever something goes wrong, you bring bad luck" or with every memory that she tried hard to forget because she would not have them anymore, because she would never have access to more of it. So she became engrossed in improving her pumps, making the closed circuit more precise and making sure no one could see inside them.

"Silco says you haven't eaten in a few blue days."

Jinx hears you, clearly he does as your voice is the only one capable of getting through all the voices swirling in his ears; Mylo scoffing and Claggor pointing out a few things on his pump, thanks a thousand times your voice.

"...Silco says a lot of things" he grumbles before pressing the pump in the perfect closed loop to throw it towards the vacuum under the huge turbine where his workshop was located listening to the explosion "but he's right this time, I haven't eaten and I don't plan to...Did you cook me? Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Sometimes she regrets everything that was going on, but the only thing that made her feel good and maybe somewhat lucky (contrary to what Mylo was always saying in her ear) to have a girl who was in love with her and who cared for her in her own way, sometimes she thought that your love kept her halfway sane, but er a secret that she would take to her grave forever.

Powder, in the past knew what filial love, support and warmth felt like.

Until blue came along to change everything.

Jinx, knows what fear is in the eyes of others, what affection for identification is since Silco saw himself in her but never knew to what degree which led him to treat her as a daughter which he sincerely appreciated, and knew what pure love meant, love without adultery.

You, blessed and cursed be you loved her for every positive and negative trait, you held her in her crises, you embraced her when nightmares destroyed her bone by bone, and when pink detonated her. You had seen the worst of her being, that lurid, dirty, stained and ground to a bloody pulp and yet you could love her, encourage her, tell her the truth and be her pillar. You seemed to be forged in heaven with a resilience that only the devil could create, or so she formulated.

"Have you cracked the Hextech theory yet?" you question interested, looking over her shoulder at her work leaving her to eat in peace and her space.

Jinx takes a while to pass the huge mouthful of food she had taken, but it was a sandwich with everything she liked and she finally had something in her stomach, she didn't know how but every food you touched tasted a thousand times better.

"something like that" she replies as she passes the bite with a gulp of apple juice, and her mind betrays her with remembering that you had a huge gallon of apple juice in your home just for when she visited did that feel like being loved? maybe yes "they are equations, calculations, instruction and so on, sequences of steps but I have a little trouble deciphering them, I have to recreate the, understand them so I can replicate them, and runes I think? I think they are runes and I don't know what they mean, but an easy job would be boring."

"wow that sounds complicated"

She only nods at your words, before she feels the gentle weight of your bandaged hand against her slender shoulder, and immediately identifies the weight of your hand on her. A welcome weight, loved, adored even and she melts all over, mouth full; your lips softly against her hundred, with warm, abiding love.

"Blue luck" you say in a soft voice, just for her.

Jinx stays alone in her workshop, a plate of food on her desk with another sandwich which she must finish because it is a crime not to finish the food you make her with so much love next to the big glass of apple juice, a glass which you yourself had made for her filled with soft drawings of the sky clouds over a gradient in blue of different shades until bordering on black. Her old glass had broken and you, bless you, had made her a new one, a new meaning that didn't make her retch from time to time.

How much did you love her? She thinks, maybe, you loved her very much and that comforts her.

➤ Caitlyn Kiramman. 

For Caitlyn to really feel her mother's rejection for her career was like a little thorn embedded in her skin and to be reduced to only having patrols in the Piltover shopping area was a bruise on the flesh, blood grinding and reminiscent of the annoyance from time to time, she hates it. She hates that it left her on patrols in expensive stores, the commercial sector and plaza of Piltover where nothing was going on.

It took her away from the countryside where she wanted to be to see the world outside of golden Piltover.

But, as always, she found the good part of it, she could sneak away and escape at times to that elegant, beautiful and minimalist store full of beautiful flowers exported from murky waters, Bandle City, Demacia, the Freljord, Ixtal, Ionia, Noxus, Targon and Zaun, that's a lot of flowers that are on display for all who can and want to buy, a beautiful and elegant flower shop. Whenever you went in there it was a delight to your nose since it smelled like a combination of flowers, a sweet, clean and you perfume. Although it was an irony since you always smelled of flowers, and perfume.

You were her safe place.

Caitlyn makes her way pretending to check until she reaches the flower shop and enters, opening the thick ornate glass doors that only allowed a partial view of the flower shop and when she steps inside, the amalgamation of scents so pleasant hits her nose in a friendly way and then she sees you, you're in the back room she sees you coming and going with flowers in your hands, so he takes the trouble to put up the sign "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" which always gave him grace and advanced through the store seeing the elegant furniture in pleasant tones to the back room where you are humming creating very elegant flower arrangements with a crystal flower in the middle of other more extravagant and beautiful ones. She leans against the door frame, watching you create those beautiful floral arrangements before rapping her knuckles on the door.

"Did I tell you that you look like a fairy?" she questions with amusement, it's a sweet nickname she's always had for you

"This fairy witnesses an enforcer skipping her patrols? The audacity" you reply with a chuckle, amused "Mistress Cassandra put you on a leash again pretty girl?"

She snorts when she hears you, stepping fully into the back room closing the door seeing that in the back there are even more flowers on huge furniture acclimating for them "You know, she's got the short leash for me and daddy couldn't dissuade her, so I'll be here for a few weeks."

"Then we can have lunch together. What do you think?" you offer, looking for something good in between everything.

"it would be a crime not to take advantage, sure do you fancy going for lunch? I've already put up your "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" sign" she says with amusement at the text you created when you got your own place

"Oh come on, it's original miss enforcer."

Yeah, maybe there was something good about patrolling the shopping area.

➤ Mel Medarda. 

"Don't move so much dear" Mel says, without the need to see you as she hears the soft sound of the silk sliding across your skin and is concentrating on the canvas finishing finding the exact tone of your skin, as if she has it memorized already "I don't want to lose the pose I indicated".

"It's just that my thigh itches" you grumble with a disgruntled pout because of the itch and when Mel allows you to move, you scratch just a little and return to the pose that is not so uncomfortable, leaning back against an elegant armchair that Mel had acquired just for you when they started living together with only a silk covering your skin in the areas where they should be covered "Aren't you bored? I am, talk about something, I don't know."

"A troubled muse, from what I see" adds with a chuckle Mel, smiling combining the tones in the palette watching you with deep gaze analyzing your anatomy, how your thighs joined your wide hips with a softness as if you were molded by the gods themselves and maybe, it was true "I'm almost done and I'll take you to dinner at your favorite restaurant"

"I want desserts" you jump with excitement, not realizing how the silk falls from your chest revealing your breasts and you remember your possess returning to her with blushing cheeks "Sorry love"

Mel just smiles, and finds even more charming the pose you came to be in, a gentle evolution of the original pose, demure and sensual, almost an innocent combination, as your gaze falls to the side as a soft embarrassment, but notice your sidelong glance at herself, a gaze full of love and glow. It is one of the many canvases she has created, in a long list of paintings that are in her living room and there will be one more.

"You should order food first, if you eat only desserts your stomach will hurt" she points out, adding more shadows.

"Mel" you complain in a whiny and annoyed tone, holding the pose.

"Food before, dessert after and rosé wine" tries to convince Mel already knowing your eternal love for sweet, and well sweet comes back to sweet

"...okay"

"Good girl"

Silence fills the room, and Mel continues with the painting on the canvas, trying to portray your sweet self until your voice again is heard, she loves that you are that sweet and somewhat whiny woman, because it is only in moments like these where you show how spoiled she has you, and it must be so, something she learned in Noxus (maybe the only good thing) that couples will always be priority and keeps you pampered, spoiled and happy, like you have her happy always.

"Almost there?"

Yes, she loves those moments where your gaze meets hers and you look like a spoiled little princess but there is a sweet fun in your eyes that she loves and finds herself adoring.

"I think I'll paint other canvases."

"Mel!"

He just laughs, continuing, he loves when you are his muse, because in retrospect you are always his muse even when you wake up disheveled and when you are dazzlingly beautiful decked out in the best dresses. He simply loves you.

➤ Grayson. 

he stress of work weighs heavy on his body, he almost feels twice his age and when he gets home, the aroma of a meal cooking wafts from the kitchen delighting his nose and being, you are his home and he adores you, you are the perfect wife. He distracts himself by taking off his boots in the entryway, stepping onto the cold living room floor passing through the spacious living room before he gets the soft smack of you impacting against his body and he can only smile, you always do that even when they were young and he loves those effusive hugs.

"You know I come home dirty from work honey" he speaks in a soft, gravelly voice close to your ear, squeezing his arm around your shoulders and kisses your hundred, savoring that expensive cream you love so much and keeps your skin smooth, from which he steals from time to time

"You know I don't mind, I must give you your hug every time you arrive" you grumble against his suit, he smells a bit humorous and a bit sour, he sure did patrol in Zaun with the recent peace treaty between the two cities and you cling to his chest, before looking up seeing him with loving eyes, Grayson is so beautiful beyond belief and as the years go by she only gets more attractive and handsome, you love that rugged and gentle air which combine masterfully in her and you stand on tiptoe kissing her "Welcome home, I'm making your favorite but I'll leave it on low heat and I can give you a bath."

"Do I look so old that you already ueires to give me a bath yourself?" she questions, with light humor frying her nose against your cheek holding you against her body, hugging you lovingly and loving the sweetish scent on your skin.

"It's not that" you say, with a pout before kissing his jaw and biting it gently "But I want to spoil you, you're the man of the house" you add, with dark humor that only your wife understands.

Grayson can only smile, the black humor between the two was a way to deal with turbulent issues with their respective families, in your own case your father disowned you for marrying a woman (a beautiful and special woman, it should be clarified) which was something that hurt you at the time but now is a topic they make jokes like that about, and in your case your parents hated you from the beginning for not being male and well, black humor is being able to make fun of everything that can hurt them and well, in your marriage humor is never lacking.

"Well, well I can't deny my sweet wife anything."

The trip to the bathroom in the master bedroom where you both have slept for years, the uniform is left in the laundry basket and you step into the shower, getting all the dirt off listening to you humming as she watches you through the glass door that blurs everything and when she steps out, her own nakedness doesn't bother her and you less, you've seen each other naked before in all the marriage os, there's nothing sexual and when she touches the hot water with soothing salts, she almost melts against the marble, even more so when she feels your hands in her hair smearing the conditioner which keeps her frizzy hair in place and your fingers against her scalp almost makes her purr, melt against you.

"Don't you get tired of pampering me honey?" she questions in a deep voice, relaxed against the tub.

"Don't you get tired of loving me? Of waking me up with kisses? Of taking me on dates to places I tell you about and always remember? Of being the love of my life?" you question, voice soft and flowing, stroking her scalp taking care of her hair.

"Never."

"We're on the same page."

Grayson knows what it's like to feel loved, he knows what it's like to love, and he wouldn't change a thing about his life, he wants to love you for millennia if possible, in this life and beyond.

➤ Ambessa Medarda. 

"You know it's going to be hard" you say, to the air listening to her heavy, steady footsteps against the white marble floor of your personal library in the palace, your wife in all her warrior and emotionally constipated glory wandering around pacing, and you just leave her drawing the memory of the meal you had with your daughter and son-in-law; Mel and Jayce, they make such a cute couple it's inevitable not to portray them, you'll give it to your daughter.

"I know, things are never easy and even less so with Mel."

"Well, if you were banished you'd be upset too and remember, I almost divorced you, so do better."

Ambessa bites her lip, remembering that turbulent moment, as cruel as it is, that she embodies the fox and the wolf at the same time she loves her family with all her being, with everything and she could destroy a thousand regions in order to protect them, strip herself of her humanity in order not to lose them, which is a paradox since she herself banished her daughter, the daughter she loved so much and who exasperated her so much because Mel was like her before she touched death, before accepting that she could become that warlord that her clan needed because she would not throw her wife to that place although, in a global vision of everything she knows that her wife is a fox in the skin of a rabbit, she is the most lethal strategist of Noxus that even the other four warlords respect and rightly so, she does not need strength or a cannon to subdue the rest, to prove her worth and Mel also inherited that. Her daughter was, in retrospect the culmination of their love for each other in her.

"I know" she replied, annoyed but not addressing her properly dropping into the long nest you must always have in your personal library and when she sees how you put down your notebook, she comes over dropping her head in your lap "but...I really want to sort it all out."

"Have you tried talking to her yet, telling her the truth?" you question, running your fingers through her hair between wavy and curly, unruly letting her cling to your legs, her hand large and calloused against your bare leg due to the Noxus dress you wore, her fingers though they carried death and carried blood to no end on your skin, on your flesh they were gentle "...that time was hard, and you proved your point, I wasn't ready to go through that ordeal like Kino did, Mel is diplomatic and doesn't value war, death and blood like you were raised and what you held on to, but what you hold high for your clan, for your family and well Kino is just like you but with a little diplomacy in the recipe."

She just sighs, feeling your caresses and lets her guard down, feeling naked and vulnerable, nerves in the air and in your sight "I know, it was selfish of me to push her away, save her from what would end up like us"

"acknowledging it is the first step, Kino has already spoken to you and her sister, all that remains is to give that head of yours time my love."

Ambessa never knows how you can love her, weapons, blood and death, trouble recognizing her own feelings, and a fierce strength to keep her family alive, her clan but, well she wants to bathe in your love, receive your caresses and delicacy. Only you have seen this vulnerable side and yet you love it. You have seen her crying after her first war, when she came back with blood on her hands and partially broken psyche, but you were there holding her tight despite the size difference, you held her all night long letting her cry until, she became the warlord she is now.

"...Will you be with me there when I talk to Mel?"

"I'll never leave you Bess, you married me and you'll never get rid of me in hell."

And if Ambessa was true to herself, heaven, hell and earth, she always wants to be with you. With loving softness which she professes only to you, she holds your wrist kissing your pulse sliding the kisses down to your finger where a red gold ring in the shape of a vine with a crystalline diamond adorns your ring finger above the black band, she made those rings herself and you never take them off your hands.

"Then I'm in luck, because I never want to leave you."

➤ Renata Glasc. 

He knows the feeling of climbing from the depths of mud, garbage and waste to position himself at the top of the city of iron and glass, installing a house in Piltover that became the central in medicine, cost horrors but here he was today controlling Zaun from the clouds and among the light air which does not make the lungs tremble. She grew at the expense of the misfortune of others, but, in Zaun is common and controls everything, leaving a certain slack to the rest of the barons and baronesses giving them the false sensation of power and freedom, to destroy them if she believes that they will put themselves in the same step where she is.

She is privileged to be at the top of the food chain in Zaun and Piltover, even if those pilties don't know it.

Many describe her as a cruel and cold woman, she is that and more. But, if his wife asked her to freeze hell she would do it. The only truth was, your wife was the one who possessed your purest and most sincere love which she has extracted from her cold chest just for you, leaving her heart in your flimsy hands. Therefore, he finds it fascinating to look at you, to admire your body, your silhouette and various expressions, your soft hands and how your skin no longer shows that sickly tone from lack of sun.

"Stop staring at me like that Ren" you say, in a soft whisper, shy like the first time he saw you.

"Darling it's impossible to stop looking at you, you are my wife and I love to admire you" Renata replies in a deep voice, approaching with fluid steps to you, where you gently place every little piece of mirror on the wall of her office, you were her little artist "...you are a natural artist and I love to see when you create all of this"

"You have always seen me, even when I graffitied the alleys of Zaun, one would think you would be bored by now" you say, gently taking each piece of mirror sticking it on the wall creating a scene and you feel Renata's mechanical hand on your hip which makes you sigh, you try hard not to think about what happened this morning at home, when she held you with that same mechanical arm so sleek and stylish yet strong pinning you against the bed and Renata devouring you

"I never tire of your creative process."

Renata rests her chin on your head, seeing every little piece of glass on the wall simulating like a fissure where you see a beautiful city, a Zaun you dreamed of and just kisses your hundred "one day I will make that Zaun come true."

I love you and I would give you hell, heaven, earth, the firmament just to make you smile, that's what he wants to say but he's silent when he sees your smile, your eyes full of love.

Renata can't imagine anyone else by her side but you.

➤ Cassandra Kiramman. 

If someone had told you in the past that you would end up married to the girl you came to hate (I didn't really, it was a gay panic actually) who brought you gray hairs with that joy and optimism, with her sweet, pleasant and kind smiles, with her concern, naked emotions, how you weren't afraid of feelings and showing them, that girl you hate in the past is currently your wife.

She is married to the love of your life and has a daughter with you.

He sighs softly, savoring the flower tea that he likes to drink and that you brought from your travels outside Piltover, a beautiful small flower enclosed in a bud, opaque and dry until it comes in contact with hot water blooming leaving the most beautiful flowers, and creating a sweet, delicious tea with a unique flavor. A box of tea that you always brought for her, without fail along with flowers, and books from other regions that she spends her nights reading. To tell the truth, the girl she hated in the past now made her happy, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much when you came on a trip and wrapped her in a tight hug, but every time she saw that scene it made her heart flip, it was as if you carved your name on her heart and soul.

"It's not fair mommy!" you hear a little childish voice squeal with indignation, it's in the middle of the huge garden with some dartboards a considerable distance away and the little girl stomps her little foot on the ground showing her anger "You let me win and I'll tell mommy!".

Cassandra feels her heart melt, as Caitlyn is held in her wife's arms and hears her laugh, it's impossible for Caitlyn to get so angry at her wife when you always get the giggles out of her to no end.

"I didn't let you win Caitlyn, you really won there" you point out in a soft voice once you leave her leaning on your hip looking at the targets and the rifle on the ground, an exact copy of yours because that's what your daughter wanted "You'll really be a good shot you know that?"

"Do you think so mom?" questions Caitlyn, small and bright-eyed to the max, expression cheerful and hopeful

"Of course I do honey, and when you grow up I'll make a rifle just for you" you promise with a smile, watching your daughter prance in your arms and you kiss her cheeks lovingly "A rifle just for you, just like you wanted."

Cassandra just smiles, watching the cute scene and how Caitlyn sees you with bright eyes, huge and hopeful, she loved her family even that woman who made her angry, who made her laugh until she cried and break her cold facade, make her heart beat wildly, but she is the woman she loves to see sleeping next to her, she simply loves her and she wouldn't change any of that.

His life is happy.

[phantomspiderr]

roleplay w/ ghostface!rio vidal x reader x agatha harkness

kinktober '24 ~ no 5

a/n: little bit of warning, it's rio so there's knife play involved. I would also mark this as dubcon/noncon so if that's not for you please don't read. I wrote this with the thought of this being a prior conversation and rules and safe words being in place etc in mind

You jump out of your skin as your phone rings out loudly in the kitchen, your heart thumps in your chest and your body tingles all over. It rings once, then twice before you pick it up to answer. “Hello?” You receive no response but there’s a quiet electric hum coming through the speaker so you repeat yourself. Just as you consider hanging up a voice sounds, a hello followed by your name. The voice is unrecognisable, it’s croaky and robotic and it only adds to the drumming in your chest. “Um, hello. Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You roll your eyes, sitting yourself in one of the dining chairs.

“Well, you know my name so I think it’s only fair I know yours.” You counter, tilting your head to the side as if the mystery caller could see you.

“What’s not fair is a pretty girl like you being home all alone.” Your heart drops at those words, eyes instantly darting around to the back door to your yard and then to the kitchen window above the sink. A maniacal chuckle comes through the speaker and you can feel your body tremble. “Did you think I would just knock?” You don’t even get a chance to respond because suddenly, there’s a blaring sound coming from the living room. You drop the phone on the table, hands coming up to cover your ears and you run toward the deafening noise. The tv plays some old news clip about a group of teenagers who were mysteriously found murdered. You fumble around throwing pillows and blankets off of the couch until you find the remote, shutting off the television immediately. You let out a deep breath, feeling disoriented by the loud noise and fast-moving.

“Very funny Rio. The plan wasn’t to burst my eardrums.” You call out into the room then you hear your phone ring loudly again and your whole body jumps and the remote goes clattering to the floor. With quick steps you move back to the kitchen, grab the device and answer.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“No. Now, who is this?” You continue to play along with Rio’s little game. A silly idea she’d proposed to you after a spooky movie night. A night that you spent curled into her side jumping at every little scare.

“Oh, why not? Are you scared?”

“No.”

A door slams and a short scream escapes you. It’s just the wind you tell yourself as your heart continues to race. The voice on the phone laughs again and you think for a second that you hear the laugh coming from upstairs.

“I thought you weren’t scared.”

“Why are you doing this?” You’re met with silence and then the line goes dead. You look at your phone confirming that the call is no more and then there it is, the sound of slow deliberate footsteps coming from directly above you. Everything in you tells you to run but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as your body moves toward the stairs. You stand at the bottom peering up into the darkness and that’s when you hear a slow call of your name but you can’t tell where it’s coming from. It seems to bounce around the house, not revealing the place of origin. A sound almost like nails on a chalkboard pierces your ears sending ripples down your spine. Then suddenly, there’s a pounding coming from your front door and a muffled raised voice slips through the cracks. Perplexed, you rush to the door and swing it open to reveal your neighbour, Agatha. Her face splattered with what looked like blood and a tinge of fear washes over you. She shoves you aside and slams the door shut, bolting it and leaning her head against the wood while she huffs and pants.

“Agatha?! What happened to you? Is that blood? Are you okay?” Your chest feels like it’s going to explode from the thumping of your heart.

“She’s gone crazy. She tried to kill me so I had to…” Agatha turns to you, a crazed look in her eyes, “You’ve got to believe me. It was self-defence!”

“A-Agatha, what happened?” Agatha’s movements are frantic, her hands smearing blood across her face. Fear washes over you and before Agatha can utter another word you both hear a door creak, it’s the familiar creak of your back door and your head immediately snaps around to the source of the sound. But you can’t see the door and suddenly there's a hand over your mouth, muffling a surprised yelp.

“Uh oh, looks like I didn’t finish the job.” Agatha whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “Better run and hide bunny.” Her hand drops from your mouth and slowly you turn to face her, a sinister smile etched on her face. You’re moving before you can even register, had Rio brought Agatha in on her little game to really sell it? Haphazardly you climb the stairs, tripping on a couple of steps in the process. You can’t hear any movement behind you but you don’t stop moving. Your mind races trying to think of a good hiding place but your feet carry you to the one place you feel the safest, your bedroom. Your eyes search for a place to hide and you pick the only reasonable option even if it is the obvious one. You rip open the closet doors and practically throw yourself into the corner, you’re hugging your knees and trying your best to calm your racing heart and mind. There’s a tiny crack where the doors meet and you can just make out the bedroom door. The only sound you can hear is the blood pumping in your ears, no footsteps or doors opening. The wait is agonizing, it feels like you’ve been there too long for nothing to have happened by now so you pluck up the courage to get up. Maybe Rio wanted more of a chase? You try to be quiet, opening the closet just slightly and peeking into the bedroom. Nothing, it’s empty. So, you emerge from the closet and slowly you take steps toward the bedroom door. Your hand just rests on the doorknob but you’re jolted away from it when two hands are suddenly grabbing you. You scream as you're dragged backwards before a hand is slapped over your mouth to muffle the noise. The unknown strength uncaringly throws you onto the bed like a rag doll and your eyes go wide when you see the dark cloaked figure with that ghost white mask. Then they’re on you before you can get away but you struggle against their iron grip, wriggling as the masked figure pins your hands above your head. You cry out, not stopping until you feel cold metal press against your neck and you finally stare into the black eyes of the mask. Their head tilts as if they’re scanning your face, watching your expression as the knife presses harder and causes a searing hot pain to develop on your skin. Your eyes shut tightly and sting with tears, and then the blade is suddenly gone and your eyes shoot open to see the knife raised in the air and without warning it begins coming toward you. There’s a genuine fear coursing through your veins as you expect a sharp pain but instead, the knife is buried in the pillow right by your head. You flinch, your head turning to see a familiar green dimpled handle.

“That wasn’t funny Rio.” Your eyes are watery and you move your body in an effort to push her off but she doesn’t budge. “How did you get in here without me seeing you?” Your head tilts a fraction but still you get no audible reply. “Did you cheat? We said no magic.” Your chest still rises and falls quickly and the lack of response is startling you. The black voids of the mask stare back at you, your eyes move to watch as their free hand reveals a small bundle of rope. You don’t resist it when the cloaked figure loops the rope around your wrists, pulling tightly on purpose to ensure there will be marks tomorrow. You wince as they pull and tug at your limbs until they’re wound together and secured to the headboard.

“Oh no, please don’t kill me.” You whine, hoping that playing along with Rio’s fantasy will elicit a response. It’s not the response you hoped for but you watch as she wraps her gloved fingers around the blade once again. Your eyes flutter closed when she places the tip on your cheek and you feel it graze down your skin, nipping at the collar of your shirt and trailing down further. Once it reaches your waist she pauses and your eyes open to see why. In an instant, the knife expertly slips under your pants and you take in a sharp breath as the blade slices through the material like butter. Your eyes flicker between the cut in the fabric and the mask. It’s almost like you can feel the grin that burns through the mask. The knife is suddenly thrust back into the pillow by your head and you flinch again, letting out a shaky breath. Her hands are back on you; first starting by cupping your face, their head tilting to study you. Then her hands move down, trailing along your neck and slowing to brush over your breasts which you instinctively push up into. She momentarily halts her movements when you do that, then her hands press harder making sure her fingers fan across your covered nipples. Your mouth falls open with a sharp inhale and your hips buck upward. Her hands fall away from your breasts and move down your stomach, this time her fingers dig into your flesh until she reaches the tear in your pants. She makes sure to ghost a finger down the newly exposed skin where the fabric falls away. Then she’s tearing at the material, wanting to expose more of you. It doesn’t take long for there to be nothing but tatters left on your legs. Your skin is left red and sore from the yanking and rubbing of the fabric. You squirm as you try to reposition yourself into a more comfortable position and use it as a way to hide your now bare pussy but it’s impossible as your cloaked figure kneels between your legs forcing them open. You keep pushing against their grip but when one of their hands disappears under their cloak you grow curious. She pulls her cloak up to expose a thick purple strap secured tightly around her waist and you swear you begin to drool at the sight. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea if it meant Rio bought you such a nice new toy to play with. You seem to back down and become relaxed as her grip on your thigh grows, her nails digging in to add a sharp sting. Your breathing picks up when slowly she towers over you again, your eyes locking back onto the mask. She hovers above you, one hand now at the side of your head to hold her up and the other moves the tip of her strap through your folds. Your body shudders at the touch and you fight to keep your eyes open. Then with no further warning, she pushes into you and a scream escapes you as the stretch stings and your hands tug against your confides repeatedly. Your eyes prickle with tears but it only seems to spur her on. She straightens up so she can thrust rapidly until your screams turn into gasps and moans that seem to build more when her covered thumb presses down on your clit. The jilting of your bodies causes enough friction that she doesn’t even need to move the digit. Your eyes seem to roll back as she continues on her rough pursuit, her palm pushing down on the bulge she creates while driving her cock into your abused hole over and over until you're on the edge of cumming. 

“Well one of us is going to have to change.” Your eyes shoot open at the sound of your girlfriend's voice, it sounds further away than you think it should be and you’re confused by the sentence. But the pounding continues and you’re still panting when you see Rio standing by the bedroom door dressed in a black cloak and holding an identical white ghost mask. You’re completely disoriented at this point, if Rio is standing there then who is towering above you still thrusting their cock into you as your girlfriend watches.

“You couldn’t have let the sweet girl cum before you interrupted?” A muffled voice grunts from under the mask, then their hand raises to pull off the mask. “Hi sugar,” that sweet neighbourly voice rings in your ears as she grins down at you.

“A-Agatha?” Your question draws out as a string of moans tumbles out of your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut again as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Both of Agatha’s hands had shifted to your hips, aggressively tugging them to meet her thrusts as she watched your orgasm overtake your body. Your back is arched and your toes curled as she forced her strap into you again and again until you were over-sensitive and crying out. Her thrusts eventually come to a stop, her cock still buried deep inside you as you clench and squirm. You flinch when a gentle hand touches your face, your eyes open to see Rio standing by the bed now. She smiles down at you, a hint of pride in her expression.

“Angel,” the sweet pet name rolls off her tongue like honey but then she’s squeezing your face between her fingers and a dark look washes over her face, “you can’t be making all that noise.” You blink up at her, still keenly aware of Agatha’s presence between your thighs. “What if the neighbours complain?” A wicked grin breaks out on Rio’s face as she looks up at Agatha who mirrors her expression. “We’ll just have to find a way to keep you quiet huh?”

“I can think of one.” Agatha remarks quickly and Rio’s fingers release their grip on your face. Rio hums as if in thought, trying to play off like they haven’t already orchestrated this whole thing to go a certain way.

“I like your thinking, Aggie. Why don’t I sit on that pretty little face while you have your way with her again and again until she just can’t take it.” You seem at a loss for words as you just watch your beautiful girlfriend climb onto the bed. She kneels beside you for a moment to share in an exchange with Agatha, the pair holding one another’s face for just a brief moment before Rio moves again. She straddles your chest and you wriggle slightly, momentarily forgetting that Agatha’s strap is still stretching your sensitive hole. A whine falls from your lips and Rio tuts. “You’re such a pretty girl, it’s a shame you just can’t keep quiet.” Her condescending tone floats through the air as she hikes up the black fabric that drapes her body to reveal her bare pussy just inches from your face. She slips a hand into your hair as she pulls herself forward. She tugs your head up and sinks her wet folds down onto your face, your mouth instinctively opens and your tongue gathers her familiar taste. Immediately she begins rocking her hips back and forth and your eyes fall closed as she uses you for her own pleasure. A sharp moan vibrates against her core as Agatha begins to move inside of you again and Rio’s grip on your hair tightens. “Do that again.” You’re not sure if she’s growling at you or Agatha at that point but you both seem to respond as Agatha fluidly starts thrusting into you again and a flurry of moans vibrates against Rio’s clit. “Fuck!” She cries out, now arguably she is becoming louder than you were but no one is sitting on her face. Your tongue continues to lick and prod at her, trying your hardest to make her cum. Your eyes open to see her head thrown back as her hips move in time with Agatha’s and you’re not sure whether it’s the lack of oxygen or the second orgasm washing over you that prickles your vision. You look up at Rio’s blissed-out face, seeing black spots as your hips thrash around while Agatha relentlessly continues to hammer into you. Wave after wave of pleasure hits you again and again until your mind is completely gone.

“Oh now you’ve gone and killed the poor sweet thing.” Agatha’s echoey voice whirls around your head.

“Don’t worry, she’ll come around.” You can feel a soft hand holding your face and an arm secured around your shoulders. “Look there she is,” Rio’s voice seems to pull you back as your eyes slowly blink open, “hi sweetheart.” A weak smile stretches out on your face as you curl your tired body inward, snuggling closer into Rio’s arms.

Your hands had somehow been freed and now you were curled up in the bed with Rio next to you and another presence close by.

“What-what happened?” Your weak, croaky voice comes out and your throat feels dry.

“Don’t worry angel. Why don’t we just get you cleaned up and in bed huh?” Your mind is fuzzy and your entire body aches but you feel a buzz running through your veins.

“Did I do a good job?” Your question comes out small and you hear a duet of giggles before Agatha closes in to press a kiss to your temple and she softly speaks.

“A good job? Baby, you’re gonna be in the sequel.”

[flowerandblood]

Appearances (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagements ]

[ description: All Aemond cares about is the recognition and attention of his younger sister, but she seems to ignore him and shun him, driving him to an ever-increasing state of withdrawal and dark, grim agony. Something inside him snaps when his grandsire announces that it is time to marry her off. Sexual tension, understatements due to lack of communication, obsession. ]

This oneshot has its sequels: Experience & Refinement & Sacrifices, but can be read as a stand-alone story.

My other works: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him, though because of this his throat squeezed in pain and rage, that his little sister was simply afraid of him. He couldn't explain her behaviour otherwise – the way she quickly looked away, meekly lowering her eyelids adorned with her long, dark lashes, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture as she met his gaze.

She was the only one who didn't have their pearly white hair, the only one who didn't have the eye colour due to the gods.

Even when she witnessed his duels with Criston Cole, when she could see how much he had changed, how skilful he was in wielding his sword, defeating him again and again, she did not congratulate him – she turned and left the square, no longer bestowing even a single glance on him.

Confronted again with her wordless rejection, he thought in the back of his head that she was disgustingly ordinary with her dark hair and eyes inherited from their mother, that she could be the daughter of some commoner walking up to his knees in the mud feeding his pigs.

However, his great annoyance usually lasted only a moment, after which he went back to his state of despair.

He didn't follow her, wanting to spare himself this humiliation and discomfort, feeling his heart twitching in rage, in shame that he so desperately desired her attention, a few words of recognition, one warm look.

He saw her one morning through the window speaking to her servant, gesturing vigorously and laughing pearly, joyful; he thought with regret that she was consorting with people who might take advantage of her, who cared only about her position.

That if she were his he would protect her from them.

She would be safe.

She was so careless, innocent, wise and naïve at the same time, looking at him with those big dark eyes of hers when someone in her presence annoyed him, begging him with her gaze not to explode.

His tongue was like a blade, cutting anyone who approached him – she knew this and was afraid to open her mouth in front of him, imagining for sure how cruel his reaction would be.

He didn't know how to explain to her that he would never hurt her, his sweetest little sister, his greatest joy.

He watched from the distance like a cool, sinister shadow as her fingers intertwined with Helaena's, stretched out side by side on their armrests during supper, observed her leaning towards her with a sweet smile, whispering something tenderly, from which their older sister giggled quietly – there was something mythological in these scenes, making a shiver run down his spine.

He knew that they sometimes met in her chamber and even slept together, confiding in each other about their feminine affairs that were beyond his comprehension, however, he couldn't stop the feeling of burning jealousy that filled his chest when he thought of how he wished it was him she visited at night.

He thought then of how tender he would be towards her, how his arms would enclose her warm, delicate body in his tight, firm embrace, protecting her from anything that might frighten her.

He imagined how wonderful she would smell, her oils teasing his nostrils constantly, sweet and intense – looking at her figure seated next to him he felt the need to bite into her flesh like a ripe fruit.

He thought she would taste like a peach.

When at last they had finished their conversation and her beautiful, soft hand reached for her cup her gaze finally met his – her plump, glistening lips parted slightly, as if the intensity of his gaze frightened her, her breasts quivered in quick, shuddering breaths.

He felt what he saw in his breeches, his length all swollen, demanding her closeness.

Wanting to keep her attention on him he lifted the platter with her favourite dish, sweet cinnamon pie filled inside with apples; he saw that she blinked quickly, her cheeks flushed at the realisation that he knew she favoured them.

He watched her swallow with difficulty, her trembling hand set her goblet aside – his manhood throbbed hard when their fingers brushed in the air as she took the silver platter from him. She lowered her gaze, embarrassed, her sweet, plump lips parted to whisper a quiet, barely audible thank you.

He leaned back again, looking at the pleasing profile of her face, her long eyelashes gleaming under the warm candlelight, a drop of sweat on her skin shimmering like a small diamond ran down her neck.

Gods, how he craved her.

He wanted to touch her, stroke her shamelessly exposed back with his large hand, rough from holding the hilt of his sword, and dig his fingertips into her warm, smooth skin, with a subconscious gesture proving to whom she belonged, that she had been his right, his delight and his duty since she was born.

Why didn't she realize this?

He watched with a squeezed throat as she took a piece of pie into her mouth, the involuntary lick of her tongue with which she brushed her lower lip focused all his attention.

The thought that this fleshy lips could in the same way clench around his painfully swollen cock, suck it and squeeze it, barely able to fit it in with her sweet cry of effort.

He grunted, looking away, feeling his length twitching and pushing against the tight material of his breeches.

She didn't look at him again that evening, absorbed in a discussion with their mother and grandfather as he drank Dornish wine, staring dully ahead, its tart aftertaste melting on his tongue.

"I spoke to your mother about the importance of slowly deciding on a suitable candidate for your husband, my love." Began their grandsire with his eyebrow raised in satisfaction, directing his words to his younger sister, who froze in mid-motion – he saw that her hands, in an involuntary reflex of terror, clamped down on the material of her gown.

She remained silent.

"She's still too young, for god's sake." He hissed out feeling rage like a burning fire pulsing through his veins. He grew hot and took another quick, deep sip from his cup, an uncomfortable silence fell around him.

Otto grunted, turning with a creak of wood in his seat, his fingers stretched out and clenched into a fist on the table top in front of him, apparently wondering why such a sudden and aggressive reaction on his part.

"I understand that as an older brother you feel responsible for her safety, however, she is now of the right age and has begun to bleed, and that's why…"

"Father." Muttered their mother, looking at him pleadingly, clearly not wanting him to bring up such intimate and sensitive topics at the table, moreover in the presence of other men.

He saw out of the corner of his eye how his sister dropped her gaze, her dark eyes shining from the tears of shame that had gathered under her lids, her brows arched in pain.

If she had only asked him to marry her he would have done so at once, freed her from this laughable obligation that her marriage to some mere lord would be.

He felt his jaw clench at the thought that no one would ever love her as devotedly, dearly, warmly as he, her blood, her protector, her brother.

"In the coming months, we would like you to meet a few candidates we consider worthy of your hand." Concluded their grandfather, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet; he felt rage filling his chest when he saw that his sister merely nodded her head, accepting her fate without a word of protest, looking down at her plate.

He got up from the table, bitter and furious, leaving the hall without a word, unable to look at her, once again letting his anger take over him, accusing her in his mind.

Her lack of reaction, her lack of opposition, when it was so obvious that her husband could only be him, him, him.

He walked into his chamber, undoing the buckles of his tunic, throwing it angrily to the ground, remaining in only his chemise and breeches. Although he did not usually do so, he reached for the wine jug and poured himself a full cup, grabbing it and sitting down with it in the chair by the fire, tilting his head back, letting out loud sigh.

He shuddered when he heard a quiet, tentative knock on his door – he ran his hand over his face, guessing it was his Queen, as usual wanting to be his voice of reason, to come to him with her stoic calm, explaining to him why he had to accept the responsibilities that faced their family, including those standing before his sister.

He didn't feel like having this discussion, however, he acknowledged with reluctance that he couldn't dismiss his own mother.

"Come in." He said coolly, staring into the flames.

He heard the creak of the door opening and closing a moment later – he glanced involuntarily over his shoulder and froze, feeling his heart stop in his throat at the sight of her, beautiful, teary-eyed, her face all flushed red with pain, her fleshy, plump lips parted in a hastened breath, her brow arched in pain.

"Lēkia (big brother)." She mumbled out with difficulty, choking on her own tears – he stood up at her words looking at her with eye wide open in shock, driven by some sudden emotion, moved that she had come to him as he had always imagined she would, vulnerable and desperate, seeking refuge and a reassurance in his arms.

"Come closer, hāedar (little sister). Come." He whispered softly, extending his hand to her in a gesture of encouragement; she moved tentatively towards him, looking up at him with her wonderfully dark, large eyes, tear drops glittering on her lashes like little stars.

He parted his lips and swallowed loudly when her smooth, warm hand touched his, thought with tenderness that compared to his she was so small, so fragile.

When he dared to lift his other hand to her cheek she twitched, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly, distrustful like a maiden who was afraid of a stranger's touch, simultaneously craving his closeness and fearing it.

He breathed quietly as she let his fingers touch and run over the wonderfully soft, firm skin of her pink cheek, her eyelids closed for a moment, a quiet, sweet sigh leaving her lips.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked in a calm, low, trembling voice, ashamed of how scared he was of her answer, of her rejection.

She looked at him surprised – her lips parted in astonishment as if she didn't know what to reply to his words, her quivering fingers touched his hand stroking her cheek.

"I fear your harsh judgment, brother. It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience." She muttered in shame, lowering her gaze; he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, not believing what he heard, what she confessed to him.

I am afraid of your harsh judgment, brother.

It seems to me that my person often arouses your frustration and impatience.

How could she think so? Was his eternal desire, his suffering so expressed in his gaze, his facial expressions, his gestures?

Did she perceive his rage at the lack of her closeness as his constant displeasure at the sight of her?

He was horrified by how deep the misunderstanding reached – he didn't know what he should do to fix it now, to reverse it, he ran out of words that could describe what he felt.

How glad he was that she was standing before him now, that she trusted him, that he had adored her from the moment she came into the world, cherished her with a love that was warm, tender and devoted, that he believed she had been born to be his, his sweet joy, his beautiful little sister.

He swallowed loudly, parting her plump, fleshy lips with his thumb, looking at her in emotion, feeling a painful tightness in his throat.

"My sweet sister, where did these words come from? How could I feel anything but adoration towards you?" He asked softly, feeling her whole body quiver at his words – her mouth parted involuntarily, letting his thumb go deeper, between her puffy, sticky lips.

Something changed in her gaze, dreamy and warm, from which he felt heat in his chest and lower abdomen, her fingertips digging into the skin of his palm.

"Ivestragī umbagon issa (let me stay)." She whispered in a trembling, uncertain voice, and he felt his breath caught in his throat, his manhood throbbed aggressively in his breeches at the thought that she wanted to stay in his bed, in his embrace.

His surprised silence made her lower her gaze, ashamed, apparently panicking at the thought of what she had suggested, of how indecent it was, surely thinking that he would now despise her.

"Very well." He muttered quickly, not wanting her to leave his side.

She lifted her hopeful gaze to him and nodded, swallowing loudly, her cheeks pink with emotion. He rubbed his thumb over her wet skin and leaned over her placing a tender, lingering kiss on her forehead, her wonderful scent filling his lungs again.

He took her small hand in his, guiding her towards his bed, sitting down on it with his face towards her, letting her stand over him and decide what would happen next, looking at her pleasant, girlish figure.

It seemed to him that she had no idea what they were doing, whether it was right – he could see thoughts and doubts running across her face, fears of what would happen if their mother found out.

"Come. Do not fret. Your big brother would never hurt you." He whispered in a voice trembling with emotion – he was hot, his heart pounding like mad in his chest, he felt butterflies in his stomach, a sweet delight of satisfaction spread through his body.

His words emboldened her; she stepped closer to him, standing between his thighs, breathing loudly. He sighed and closed his eyes as she took his face in her soft hands, stroking it for a moment with gentle, slow movements that made his throat dry up; he felt with horror that his cock was completely hard, all swollen and throbbing.

In a gesture of desperation he snuggled into her abdomen, clasping his large hands on her back – he heard her surprised gasp, her hands froze upwards for a moment before they began in a soft, calm motion to stroke his head as if he were a small child.

He closed his eyes, snuggling into her body, the material of her gown pleasantly delicate and soft; he could feel her flesh throbbing from beneath it, her womb that could swell with his inheritance, his dragon seed that could root deep inside her if only she noticed his devotion and love, if only she understood that they had always been destined for each other.

He clenched his fingers tighter on the material of her gown when he felt her lean in, enclosing him in her embrace – his face was locked between her shoulders, her womb and her breasts, enveloping him in her warmth, her hands running down his back with such tenderness and gentleness that he closed his eyes, wanting to focus only on that feeling.

"I am terrified, lēkia." She whispered softly, her breasts trembling in a broken breath – he moved away to look at her, his hand cupped her soft, warm cheek.

"Marry me, issa dōna rūklon (my sweet flower). Marry me and I will protect you. I will caress you, adore you, hold you in my arms, I will give you everything." He said in a quivering, low voice, placing the emphasis on the last word, so final, direct, betraying how desperate he was.

She looked at him for a moment, shocked, her lips twitching in disbelief, in terror and something else that shone in her dark eyes, but which he did not comprehend.

"You don't have to do this. Sacrifice yourself for me." She mumbled with a blush of shame, as if she thought his suggestion stemmed from his logic and tactics, from helping her not to leave her home, rather than from his feelings.

"How much longer do you want to torment me? Shall I fall on my knees before you and beg?" He asked resentfully, pain emerging from his throat with every word he spoke – her eyebrows arched in disbelief, her breasts began to rise and fall rapidly in accelerated, ragged breathing.

Her face expressed that only now did she realise what he meant.

"Marry me, brother. Marry me and never leave me again." She whispered so quietly that he barely heard her – they looked at each other with wide eyes, not believing what had just left their mouths, flushes of shame and doubt burning their cheeks.

He shuddered and drew in a loud breath as she placed her hands on his shoulders and climbed tentatively into his lap, startling him completely – he felt a jolt of heat, his cock so hard that he felt like it was about to explode.

All he felt was a squeeze in his throat and the heavy pounding of his heart when her soft fingers gently grasped his hand, her face blushing with embarrassment, a sigh full of arousal escaped her lips as she pulled her gown up, slipping it slowly between her legs.

They both opened their mouths wide and gasped loudly, surprised apparently at how intimate and shameless this sensation was – he thought in disbelief that she was leaking with desire, her hot opening pulsating restlessly under his fingers, her hand pressing them harder against her quivering flesh, eager to feel him deeper.

"− please − please −" She whimpered, breathing loudly, looking at him pleadingly with her dark eyes full of tears. He stared at her in shock wondering if it was possible that he had made a mistake, that he had misjudged the situation, that contrary to what he thought, she was reciprocating his affection.

His lack of hesitation, his fingertips that dug into her fleshy, hot womanhood surprised her so much that she squealed and hopped up on his lap – he put his free arm around her and held her in place, not letting her escape.

"− easy, little dove − shhhh −" He hushed her, his two fingers sinking into her plump muscles, collecting her moisture that leaked from her thirsty, throbbing core. He stared at her, seeing the expression on her face indicating that this experience had shocked her, sweet, soft moans erupted from her puffy, glistening lips, her hips involuntarily began to move to the rhythm of his hand.

"− that's it − let me take care of you − brothers know what is good for their sisters, don't they? −" He hummed low as if he were speaking to a small child and she only nodded, clearly having trouble concentrating. He sighed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her moist, sweet lips pressed against his in a sticky, loud kiss.

He murmured into her mouth with delight, thinking with awe that indeed her skin felt like the flesh of a fruit, wet and sticky to the touch, his fingertips teasing her bud hidden between her folds. He could feel her bouncing in his lap and trembling all over, quivering in his arms as his fingers roamed around that spot, their breaths raspy and loud, full of desire.

"− y-yes − right here, lēkia − mghmm −" She babbled in between their messy, saliva-wet kisses – he dared to slip his tongue between her plump lips answered by her sweet purr of pleasure, his hand all soaked with her juices, his long, slender fingers digging into her skin in circular, sure strokes.

"− just like that − soaking wet for me − issa dōna hāedar (my sweet little sister) −" He cooed in delight, feeling his swollen length pushing impatiently against his breeches, thinking only of how wonderful it would be to feel her, to watch his fat cock open her wide, her tight folds glistening from her moisture.

"− mhm −" She hummed between passionate, deep, ferocious kisses, a combination of their lips, teeth and tongues licking against each other.

She tilted her head back and moaned loudly as his fingers slowly made their way inside her, exploring her throbbing, swollen core – his thumb rubbed her her pearl, his fingertips searched intensely for the spot he'd read so much about in books, and when he found it her walls began to clench around him in convulsions, a pathetic whimper escaping her lips.

"− o-oh gods, brother, yes, please, please, please −" She mewled desperately, clasping her hands in his long hair, rising and falling on his fingers with a loud click of her moisture – he grasped the nape of her neck with his free hand and pulled her close, forcing her lips, swollen from his caresses, to join his in sticky, hot kiss.

"− come on, little one − I can feel you are close − thaaat's it, there we go −" He gasped out into her throat when a powerful shudder ran through her body, her moans of delight erupting from her mouth again and again as her hot muscles began to clench greedily around his fingers, sucking him inside, his hand all sticky with her fulfilment.

He was panting loudly along with her, cuddling her quivering body, thinking of how wonderfully warm and fleshy her insides were, how perfectly she would squeeze his cock once he could possess her whole, his sweet wife, filling her to the brim with his seed every night.

He intended to perform his marital duty with passionate devotion.

"− such a good girl − you did so well for me, dōna hāedar −" He praised her, wanting to reassure and soothe her, stroking her soft hair, pressing her face to the hollow of his neck, his hand between her thighs cupped over her pulsing, moist womanhood.

The smell of her wetness, of her flesh, of her sex filled his entire lungs, so lewd, ungodly and wonderfully carnal – his mouth placed involuntarily little butterfly kisses on her beautiful face, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in delight and disbelief, her hands clenched on the material of his chemise.

He grasped her fingers in his and lifted them to his lips, kissing them with tenderness and reverence as his other hand stroked unashamedly her plump bare buttock hidden beneath the material of her gown.

"Now it's my turn."

_____

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[01zfan]

miss you more | s. es

ex baby-daddy!eunseok x reader | 6.6k words

i do NAWT condone having a baby with a man you’re not married to.

contains: sex without a condom (they’re absolute messes DON’T BE LIKE THEM)

you don’t know how you ended up in front of eunseok’s place. even if you were the one behind the wheel, the one shifting the gears, and the one rolling red stop signs you don’t know how you ended up there. you looked out your driver side window to look at the house you used to call your home across the street. atleast you were in your right mind enough to not park directly in front. but you also knew this was just as bad, in a parked car with the lights off across the street like a stalker.

you knew you could’ve gone home. you could’ve put your car back in drive and come back in the morning to pick up your daughter, pretending like this never happened. but you knew yourself better than that, and you knew that the failed date you went on still weighed heavy on your shoulders. 

you turned towards your phone, hoping that something on your device would distract you. but when you opened your phone you saw your lockscreen—your happy little daughter trying to hold a pumpkin the size of her body as you and eunseok helped. you thought about how content you were that day, how you felt like you were truly a happy little family again. you even had a heart to heart with eunseok, talking about how you were too young and just starting your career when you met him. your life was barely on track by the time your daughter came and although you wouldn’t trade her for the world you both humored the idea of meeting later in life. you felt a pang in your chest as you remembered looking down to your daughter who held tightly onto eunseok’s hand while she held her tiny pumpkin in the other. 

the person you went on the date with noticed your wandering mind, it was obvious in the way he cleared his throat after you stared at the picture for a little too long. 

trying to comprehend your relationship with eunseok was difficult. when you were with him you thought about all the shortcomings in your relationship—the lack of communication, hiding your feelings, keeping things bottled up until they exploded. neither of you were able to save your relationship before it was too late, and it could be argued that you two were better apart. but when you weren’t with him, the only thing you could think about was trying to make it work.

you looked at the man sitting across from you at the dinner table and you imagined it was eunseok. maybe it was the familiarity, maybe you shouldn’t have made the mistake of seeing him before going on your date. because now the only thing you could think about was him, if he was going on dates in secret and if he was thinking of you too. you thought about your daughter, how much you wished you were with her instead of pretending the fancy food on your plate was good.

you knew the moment you started thinking about your family that the date was already over. it would be another endeavor in your long list of failures, all you could think about as you sat in your car was how you gave up a day you had with your daughter for this. you deleted your message history with the man, staring at your most recent text conversations. eunseok sat at the very top, his unread message appearing in the form of a tiny blue dot next to his picture-less icon. you clicked on the message thread, revealing a series of pictures of your daughter and little updates through the night.

eunseok: she likes strawberries alot.

eunseok: playing zelda and animal crossing on the big tv.

eunseok: she’s better than me at zelda now.

eunseok: she told me mommy is going on a date?

eunseok: i hope it goes well.

eunseok: she ate all of her food.

you don’t know why you felt guilty reading the last message. eunseok didn’t have the right to know, and you knew that. you had simply told your daughter in passing that you were going on a date night with your friends, knowing that she would repeat whatever you told her to her father. you typed your reply over and over again, trying to figure out what approach to take. 

lol i was going out with some of my friends from wo|

that’s none of your busin|

the date went we|

are you awake?

your mind came up with a million things to say, but none of them felt right. it felt like all of them were attempts at sounding casual. you threw your phone into the passenger seat beside you, and you rolled your neck to try and relieve some of the tension. you let out a sigh and turned your keys in the ignition, letting your car come to life around you.

you pulled out from the parking lot and headed down the road trying to go home. it started off with one wrong turn, your mind confused on where to go from the restaurant. when you had the chance to go back the way you came you felt something take control, and you continued heading down the same road. you took another turn, you even waited at the red light with an unexplainable energy as you tapped the steering wheel. the tension in your neck was gone too as you headed further down the road. 

you knew you didn’t have the right to act confused when you finally turned down eunseok’s road.

you let your head rest against the steering wheel when you parked across the street. each time the thought of leaving your car invaded your thoughts, you gently shook your head, feeling the worn leather of the steering wheel cover against your forehead.

“don’t do it.” you said to yourself.

you looked back at the house again, looking at the window that your daughter was sleeping in. you knew that on the other side of the house you couldn’t see, was the window to the room you used to sleep in. you started thinking about eunseok in that bed by himself, drowning in the california king that was too big even for the two of you. you started thinking about if he thought of you before going to bed everyday, if he thought about you tonight and where you were going in your pretty dress. 

“don’t do it.” you repeated.

saying it a second time was unnecessary. you said it purely for effect, trying to seem like your better senses were trying to put up a fight. you were already taking your key out of the ignition before you finished your sentence. you had taken your first step out of the car when you repeated the phrase again. you cleared the road quickly, hearing your heels click on the paved road with each step. by the time you made it to the sidewalk you had accepted your fate. you were still weary, slowly making your way across the lawn to the stoop. 

when you made it to the small set of stairs you looked to the door in front of you. the last chance you had to go back in your car before you undid all of your hard work. you knew you were being recorded by the ring camera beside the door. you could simply lie if eunseok ever brought it up. you could just say you considered coming to get your daughter before realizing how late it was. eunseok most likely wouldn’t believe you, and you would most likely lie some more trying to tell a convincing story. but your gaze went from the ring camera to the potted plant that stood tall beside you. you looked even lower to the painted rocks that circled the bottom. you let the ring camera catch you crouch down to your heels. the same hand that drove you here picked out the discolored rock that felt hollow. 

you held the rock in your hand, feeling the three engraved letters side by side. you held it away from your shadow, letting the moon illuminate the letters. you laughed to yourself for a moment before bringing your other hand to it, feeling for the split in the middle. it was too easy to slide the fake rock open, and to grab the key to the front door out of it.

you stepped through the door, turning the knob so it closed quietly behind you. you took off your heels at the door, hanging your jacket on the coat rack. you felt like an intruder, walking through the house on the balls of your feet trying to be as stealthy as possible. you lurched past your daughters toys in the living room down the hallway to eunseok’s room.

“don’t do it.” you said one more time putting your hand on the doorknob.

you pushed open the door to eunseok’s room slowly. you cursed at the creaky hinges, only letting it fully open when you saw that eunseok’s bed was empty. you didn’t hear him in the bathroom, so you pulled away from the door. you turned around, looking at the pink door of your daughter’s room. you ran your hand over the paint, remembering the day you spent painting it outside. it was the same day you painted the rocks outside. for some reason you believed eunseok would’ve thrown out the rocks you painted, or atleast replace them with new ones. but everything was the same as you left it all those years ago. 

when you silently opened the door, you saw your daughter take up a majority of the bed. her stretched limbs forced eunseok to the edge—his arm was slung over the side, and he was so close to falling that his hand touched the ground. eunseok was on his stomach and your daughter was on her back, both of their snores filled the room. for a moment pain flashed across your chest, you missed seeing this more than you thought. your own flesh and blood laid next to your shared history that was so suffocating it took your breath away. it was overwhelming and calming, as painful as it was peaceful. 

part of you wanted to stand there for the rest of the night, just watching the two sleep side by side. you were still for a moment, letting your mind replace all the bad memories with the good as you worked up the courage to get closer to eunseok. 

all of your steps towards eunseok were careful, walking on the flat part of your foot to not cause the floorboards to creak. you had your eyes trained on your sleeping daughter, making sure she didn’t open her eyes while you crouched close to eunseok’s body.

when you reached your hand in the space between your chest and eunseok’s shoulder, you hesitated. you were frozen looking at eunseok and his cheek pressed into the mattress and his mussed black hair. you hadn’t seen eunseok like this in god knows how long. after you called things off, eunseok put his stoic resolve back up. he put on a mask for you, a facade of furrowed eyebrows and emotionless stares. you had been deprived of eunseok’s softness you almost forgot it existed. now you crouched next to your ex beside the flower lamp on your daughters dresser resisting the urge to run a finger over his soft parted lips or his smooth skin. you almost didn’t want to wake eunseok up, afraid that you would once again have the gentleness taken away from you. you didn’t know you could miss the view of someone you claimed to hate so much. 

something inside of you wanted eunseok to know you saw him like this, serene in middle of the night just like when you were together. maybe he would even talk to you in the same raspy voice he always used to talk to you in. maybe if you woke him up fast enough you would be able to experience the eunseok you loved before his mind fully woke up to make him robotic towards you again. so you finished reaching across the space, gently touching his shoulder before you let your hand fully cover the area.

you shook eunseok gently at first. his body was limp underneath your hand, moving whichever way you applied force. you looked past eunseok to your daughter, who had at some point moved on her side to sleep like you. you drew in a breath, applying more pressure behind your hand trying to rouse him. finally he did something, letting out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

“go back to sleep baby,” eunseok swallowed and turned his head, facing away from you. “we can play zelda in the morning, i promise.” he mumbled.

even if his voice was barely audible, you still clenched your teeth in worry. your daughter was by no means a light sleeper, but all it could take is mentioning one of her favorite things to have her head shoot up in the middle of her sleep. eunseok ignored you trying to wake him up, you had to lean in close to the back of his head.

“eunseok,” you shook him a little harder “it’s me.” you whispered.

as if you yelled straight into his ear, eunseok shot up from the bed. you were spooked, almost letting out a sound when he turned to you with wide eyes.

“what are you doing here?” he sounded lost as he looked around your daughters dark room. “is something wrong?” he asked.

“no i just.” you looked over eunseok’s shoulder to look at your daughter. she was still snoring, but had turned to face her father. if she woke up now she would never go back to sleep. “i need to talk to you.” you whispered.

eunseok looked at the flower-shaped clock hanging on the wall behind you. he squinted his eyes trying to make sure he was reading the time right.

“at two in the morning?” he asked, voice still raspy.

in that moment you realized it was a mistake coming. nothing good as ever happened between you and eunseok after midnight. but you also realized it was too late to go back, and a small voice in your brain convinced you that you weren’t sleeping in your own bed tonight. so you nodded your head again as eunseok carefully move off the bed to not wake your daughter. 

eunseok motioned for you to walk toward shis room but he still led the way. he didn’t care to walk on his tiptoes or avoid the creaky parts of the floor as he rubbed his face. 

you looked back to your daughter once more before closing the door behind you. she moved to the center of the bed, taking up the little amount of space eunseok was occupying. you slowly pulled the door closed until you heard it click behind you. when you turned back into the hallway you saw eunseok past the opening in his door, looking at you through the space. he was no longer tired and he didn’t have his eyes squinted in confusion anymore. he held eye contact with you from his room, almost like he was daring you to come in. the implications made your bare feet timid in the hallway, lingering behind each creak on the floorboards as you crossed the threshold into his room. 

as if you had never been in the room before, you waited by the doorframe as eunseok closed the door shut beside you. he gave you a second to collect your thoughts, leaning against the closed door as he looked down at you. you tried matching his calm, leaning against the wall until the light switch poked your back. when eunseok crossed his arms you breathed in deeply.

“what are you doing here?” he asked.

you didn’t have an answer. all you could do was cross your arms against your chest and avoid his gaze.

“i don’t know.” you answered.

you could hear eunseok let out a dry laugh from beside you. even in the darkness of his room you could make out the framed photo of you two that sat at his work desk. he followed your gaze and cleared his throat when he saw what you were looking at.

“did you enjoy your date?” eunseok asked.

“that’s none of your concern.” you quipped.

eunseok pushed off of the door, and your eyes followed his back as he walked towards his bed.

“i’ll take that as a no.” he said quietly.

when he turned around to face you, you took a step forward.

“i’m seeing him again.” you lied.

the smug look on eunseok’s face didn’t fade away as he crossed his arms again. you saw him lean against your former side the bed, head tilted as he caught onto your lie.

“oh i’m sure.” he said.

you felt the familiar rage blossom in your chest. suddenly you felt regret, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“this was a mistake.” you seethe.

before you can turn the doorknob, eunseok takes a step towards you. when you turn the doorknob he takes another step. he clears the space between you two, and continues coming closer until you have to look up at him. eunseok moves his hand to clasp over yours on the doorknob. the warmth of his hand coaxes you to let go of the doorknob, and he brings his other hand to hold yours. you can already feel the heat across your cheeks, and you can see the blush dust across eunseok’s face the longer he looks down at you.

you don’t know why eunseok humors you even though you’re no longer together. you don’t know why he takes his time teasing you. you came to him in the middle of the night in a tight short dress after a failed date. he could’ve taken you in the hallway or the couch in the living room, god knows you deserved it. but he was gentle with you, bringing his hand to brush underneath your chin to keep your head tilted up at him.

“you don’t know why you’re here?” eunseok asked again.

you silently shook your head, knowing he’d show you why. he looked at your lips, and eunseok pressed his leg between yours. the movement made your dress ride up. you remembered that eunseok bought you this dress when he let go of your hand to reach for the zipper. he still remembered that he had to hold the fabric straight to get the zipper to work, and he pulled it down in one smooth motion. you got up from the wall to aid him, and you didn’t protest when the dress became loose on your skin. you only continued to look up at eunseok, feeling your eyes become glassy as the fabric pooled to your feet.

“you still don’t know?” he asked quietly. 

eunseok brought his fingers to run over the trim of your bra, letting out a sigh when you tilted your head back in approval. you didn’t have to answer eunseok for him to know your response. he only laughed, teasingly bending down past your lips to kiss your shoulder.

when eunseok moved to your neck you brought your hands to his shoulder. you kept him there, letting your legs bend slightly to rest some of your weight on his leg. he was strong underneath you, the flexing muscle in his thigh made you want to grind against him. before you could do anything else, eunseok worked his kisses up to your ear then completely pulled away.

“let’s go to the bed.” he said.

you complied immediately, making your way to your old side of the bed as eunseok walked around. 

both of your stood next to the bed, staring at the other. you waited for his instruction, but eunseok stared at you waiting for your next move. it made you swallow your nerves, and you reached behind you to undo the clasp on your bra. eunseok watched you fully clothed on the other side, completely still as you moved to your underwear. eunseok watched you push your underwear past your knees, until you could step out of them. 

as you brought your arms to cross against your chest, eunseok let you watch as he pulled his shirt over his head. you looked at his toned stomach, how he ran his hand down his body before getting to the waistband of his sweats. you moved from foot to foot, trying to not make it obvious how much of a mess you were already becoming. it felt like the first time again, both of you trying to remember what your bodies looked like now. you had stretch marks like tiger stripes now, and eunseok had grown into his body. you no longer felt like the young adult you were when you first met him as eunseok pulled down his sweats to reveal his white briefs. as he reached for the waistband he motioned to the bed, silently telling you to get on first.

you pressed your hands into the foam and crawled to eunseok’s side. you sat back on your legs, perched and ready to listen. eunseok grabbed your hand that was balled up at your sides, kissing your palm after spreading out your fingers. you wanted to press your hand into his toned stomach and travel down until you could squeeze his length over the fabric of his underwear, but you let eunseok kiss every single one of your knuckles as he kept burning eye contact with you. when he let your hand fall back to the bed he reached into the top drawer of the night stand. when your mind caught quickly on you shifted on your knees.

“i’m not seeing anyone.” you said quickly.

“what about your date?” eunseok asked.

you shook your head, hoping that eunseok wouldn’t make you say it out loud. the smug smile that blossomed across his face was enough of a response.

“so no condom?” he teased.

eunseok eyed you carefully as he put the foil packet back down on his dresser. he watched you shrug your shoulders and look away, focusing on fluffing his pillows. he sits back on his haunches as he watched you get comfortable laying on your side. it’s been too long since he’s seen you like this, naked and getting ready for him. seeing the line of your body settle on his sheets makes eunseok want to tell you how much he changed. how he’s not the same twenty-year old who broke your heart by hiding his feelings. he wants to tell you that he’s a responsible adult now, and that his therapist tells him every session he’s making real progress. 

when you settle onto the mattress you turn to face him. eunseok notices how you fail to hold eye contact with him longer than a second before turning away. your hand that was rubbing up and down your body goes to fraying thread on the sheets, and your eyes dart away to focus on the wall behind eunseok.

“hurry before i change my mind.” you were anything but convincing. your words had no bite as you patiently waited for eunseok to fall into his place beside you. “you should be thanking me. god knows when’s the last time you had sex.” you said.

even if you tried to seem threatening, eunseok saw your body seize in anticipation when he shifted on the bed. he took his time, going to his back first to fully take off his underwear. he enjoyed seeing you trying to take quick peaks over your shoulder to look at his bare body and hearing your nails scratch the sheets to try and collect yourself. 

eunseok put his hand on the side of your knee when he shifted his body again. he ran his hands up slowly, his touch light as a feather to try and make bumps erupt across your skin. eunseok scooted his body closer to yours, his arm that was between his body and the mattress fell into place underneath your neck. 

the two of you went into your old routine, muscle memory of your past together in bed guided your movements. you both told yourselves your bodies were acting on their own accord. that was the excuse echoing around in both of your heads as you scooted your body back to meet eunseok’s and why he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. you gasped from the feeling, and suddenly the familiarity between you two filled the room. the closeness of your bodies was nearly blinding, you put your hand over eunseok’s that had found it’s place on your ass. 

eunseok foolishly thought that this position would protect him, that not being able to see your face would help him have emotionless sex with you. but feeling your fingers seamlessly intertwine with his made his heart pound against your back. each time he tried to slightly pull back you only followed him, chasing after the warmth of him against you. he thought fast to distract you before you could point it out, he reluctantly separated his hand from yours to lift your leg, making it come over his. the change made you lean forward to put your hand on the mattress to stabilize yourself. eunseok leaned forward, and wrapped his arm that was under you across your chest to bring you close.

“the last time i had sex?” when your leg was locked over eunseok’s, he used his fingers to swipe at your folds. you preened your ass backwards, making a sound of embarrassment at how wet you were. “it was when i came over to help you with your tv, remember?” he whispered.

eunseok let the memories flood over you as both of your bodies shivered. it was months ago, you needed help putting together and setting up the brand new television you got for christmas. you were never much of the handyman, and eunseok wanted an excuse to come over to your new place. so while she was at daycare eunseok was invited over, and just like now one thing led to another until you were on top of eunseok. he remembers trying to kiss your knees that were bruised from being pressed to the ground and you told him to go away. he also remembers after the fact you used the excuse that you were lonely due to the holiday season. but now it was summer and you were moaning for him like you always used to. when eunseok pressed his lips to the side of your face you didn’t tell him to go away, you only turned your head to give him better access.

“you said you hated me then.” eunseok said.

eunseok pushed two fingers into your heat and a satisfied smile spread across his face when your lips parted. he sees you nod your head, trying to form a coherent sentence.

“i do.” you respond.

you can barely get through your sentence without your voice pitching upwards. eunseok feels you attempt to push your hips back to meet hie fingers. 

“you still hate me?” eunseok slips in a third finger to try and change your mind. “after all these years?” he asks.

“i do.” you say, shaking your head.

eunseok talks your mixed signals as a sign he’s doing something right. maybe by the third time you come to him like this he will get you to say no, maybe even have you initiate the kiss first. he uses it as motivation to keep pumping his fingers into your heat, and bringing you closer by his hand that squeezes your chest. 

when you try wedging your hand between your bodies to find eunseok’s dick, he moves out of the way. he shakes his head in the crook of your neck. he imagines the look of frustration on your face, the one that’s seared into the back of his eyelids as he lifts your leg. you fall forward once again from the new angle and eunseok lets you. 

“fuck me please, eunseok.” you whine into the sheets. 

you use the rest of your strength to push your body back to its side and you moved eunseok’s hand down your chest. he can feel your heart jumping in its cage as you continue whining for him. eunseok feels his own heart catch in his throat when he feels your desperate hand reach down to grab his dick again. he separates his clammy chest from your back and watches you grasp at the air to try and find him.

your first touch is light as a feather, as if you’re expecting eunseok to deny another one of your touches. but he only presses his forehead to your back and draws in a breath as you hold him in your hand. after the first pump it’s eunseok who’s whining. he forgot what it was like to be touched by you to the point that he has half a mind to ask you to just jerk him off like this. maybe he’ll turn you around, just so he can see your eyes blow out with lust as he finishes over your fist. maybe he will stay in this position, moaning and leaving bruises and bites along the planes of your back and shoulders to let out his frustration. but just like always does he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets you decide what you want. when your other hand pull eunseok’s fingers out of you, he leans forward and lets his hard dick press against your ass.

both of you are so desperate your movements become rushed. eunseok ruts his dick into your fisted hand from the haste, and you start spreading his precum around his tip. you pump his length a few times, just wanting to hear the content sighs and quiet gasps as eunseok tries to hold back his moans. you continue to do it, letting the slick sounds of his precum between your hands fill the room until his sighs turn to quiet whines. 

“turn around.” eunseok kisses your shoulder, pressing his lips into your skin to muffle his words. when you say nothing and only continue pumping him he pulls his head back. “look at me.” he begs.

you ignore him, even though you both know you can hear. you both know that the position you’re in currently is too intimate for people who claim to hate eachother. you both know that eye contact is dangerous, that it will only bring back feelings you both put so much energy into denying. so eunseok lets you ignore him and plays off his pleads by lightly biting your skin. you moan from the pain that lights your body like a fire, and eunseok puts his hand over yours to guide his dick the rest of the way.

“ready?” eunseok asks.

eunseok says it just as quiet as his previous plead. when you nod and whimper out a yes he feels his heart drop. he knows it was an act of self preservation, but he wished to see your face. he was forced to settle for his imagination and your sounds when his tip prodded past your entrance, and he settled for your tightening grip on the sheets as he pushed in every inch until his hips kissed yours.

you sucked him in and kept his dick in place, fitting around him like a glove. there was no better feeling in the world, nothing tasted better than the salt from your skin that stayed on eunseok’s lips. he put his hand on your ass to spread you out enough to draw his hips back. he heard your nails drag across the mattress and he felt you grab his hand on your chest to steady yourself. he slid back in just as slow, cursing each time your walls sporadically seized around him. 

it had been too long. eunseok was actively abandoning all of his inhibitions feeling you around him. he felt himself caring less and less about not wearing a condom the louder you got.

“i’m gonna cum if you keep clenching around me like that” he grunted into your shoulder.

eunseok moved his hand on your ass to press his hand deep into your lower stomach, causing you to push your hips further back. he swore he could feel himself inside of your stomach, and the sound that ripped from your throat made him believe you felt it too. the new angle let eunseok push his hips further into you. you could no longer hold your head upright as you let it fall into the pillows to muffle your sounds. but even with your broken moans and grabby hands you held back, trying to keep some shred of your dignity.

eunseok lifted his head to try and look down at you. he could see your eyes closed from the pleasure, and the thin sheen layer of sweat that glistened across your face. the tiny beads of sweat and your supple skin caught in the moonlight. eunseok bent down to kiss your cheek, trying to entice you to turn your head again. for the second time, eunseok could tell you were ignoring him. he forgot what you were trying to protect yourself from as he felt your walls seize around him again. you were becoming even more sporadic, and your breaths were turning into quick huffs. when your hand tightened over his, eunseok used his leg to raise yours even more. his hand on your stomach found your clit quickly, rubbing circles that complimented his thrusting. you finally turned your head from the mattress, you even turned a little further to look eunseok in the eyes.

“i’m so close, seok.” you whispered.

eunseok saw you close your eyes and catch your bottom lip between your teeth, another telltale sign of you trying to focus. you dragged his hand that gripped your chest to your neck. eunseok’s eyes that were focused on your face flitted down to your neck. his eyes widened looking down at your hand pulsing over his, shocked at you trying so desperately to take the tenderness from this moment. if eunseok squeezed his hand around your neck like you wanted, it would be easy for you both to claim this was simply just a horny mistake, a borderline hate-fuck. he made that mistake the first time—with a hand around your neck he told you how much he hated you. he looked into your eyes when he said it, trying to revel in the way your eyes flashed in pain between the moments of bliss. he didn’t mean it then but he definitely didn’t mean it now—like he said before he has changed. 

so instead of pressing his fingers into the veins on the side of your neck he traveled up to your chin, turning your head so you were forced to look at him. you were shocked, eyes so wide and your face so close to his that eunseok could see himself in the reflection of your pupils. he placed a kiss right on your lips, not pulling back until he felt your lips move against his. he saw himself in your eyes again, and he sees his spit glistening on your lips. he feels himself inside of you, and he feels your warmth cover his entire being.

“i think i was made for you.” 

eunseok meant to say it quietly just for himself as a silent realization, but the way you nod makes him believe it to be true. eunseok feels you get your strength back as you push your hips backwards to meet his hard and deep thrusts.

“you still are.” you moaned.

he tells himself that you are just talking to fill the void of silence. eunseok also tells himself that you can’t bring yourself to ignore him for the third time this night when you’re looking him right in eyes. regardless, eunseok can also feel himself getting closer as you clench repeatedly around his twitching dick.

“oh my god.” you moan.

eunseok pulls your body closer when he feels you shudder against him. you start driving your hips back without rhythm, trying anything you can to keep the stimulation going. eunseok still looks down at you as you cum, and he smiles at the irony of you trying so hard to keep eye contact. you give into closing your eyes when he slips a finger into your mouth, and he can feel the vibration of your moans around his digit. 

when you start getting weaker, and settling into eunseok’s hold he pulls his hand from your clit to pull out. when you open your eyes again they’re glassy. they’re no longer half lidded as you grab eunseok’s wrist, stopping him from pulling out.

both of you look down at your hand. you look almost as shocked as eunseok, like something came over you to stop him from pulling out. eunseok takes it in stride, pushing back into you with a force that has you moaning around his finger. you turns your head even further to face him. he kisses the apple of your cheek and then your lips, smiling against your pout.

“you want another baby?” eunseok moved down from your cheek to your jaw. “you really wouldn’t be able to get rid of me then.” he whispered once he made it to your ear.

before you could say anything back, eunseok latched onto the skin right below your ear, sucking and pressing his teeth in the area below your jaw. the stimulation made your lower half sink further down onto the mattress, until you were relying fully on eunseok’s strength to keep your body up. memories flood back to eunseok, but the way he still remembers how you sound and respond to everything makes him think he never forgot in the first place. both of your bodies move simultaneously, when he pulls away from your neck you tilt your head to give him access to the other side. you preen your neck towards him, whimpering quietly when he lingers above the spot.

“oh my god.” you start shaking and eunseok feels your nails dig into his skin. “too much.” you whimper.

eunseok turns your head back around to press let his face rest against yours. you still suck around his fingers, and he can feel you turn your head to kiss whatever parts of his face you can reach. you still clamp around him, your cum adds to the lewd sounds that fill the room.

“can i cum inside?” eunseok asks.

eunseok closes his eyes and focuses on everything about you. he hold back until he feels your head nod against his.

“please.” you bring your hand behind you to run through his hair. “i miss you so much” you whimper around his fingers.

“i miss you more.” eunseok whispers.

he doesn’t hold back anymore as he empties into you. he turns to the crook of your neck, sucking harshly at your skin to relieve even more of the tension. when his hips still you take the lead, plating your hand onto the mattress to give your hips more stability. eunseok grips your ass, kneading the flesh desperately to try and ground himself. he pulls away from your skin to whimper into your ear. 

you two can no longer speak, only communicating through the hushed sounds of euphoria. eunseok brings both of his hands to wrap around you, bringing your body as close to his as possible. you can no longer push your hips back from the new angle and that’s exactly what eunseok wants. he forces you both to stay still, to feel all of it—the way his dick pulses inside of you as he cums deep inside of you. even when eunseok gives you all he has, you both stay in that position. you both settle deeper into the bed, catching your breath as your skin doesn’t break contact. 

neither of you want to be the first to speak or to force the other one to come back to reality. so you two remain silent as eunseok pulls out. you don’t say a word when eunseok turns your body around to face him, or when he pulls the covers over your sweaty bodies. he returns the favor by saying nothing when your nestle into his chest and you guide his arm to wrap around your body. 

[p0orbaby]

Sinners | Envy

summary: jealousy rears its ugly head

warnings: SMUT 18+, use of a strap, dom!leah, angry sex

a/n: this one’s a little feisty

word count: 1.3k

Lust | Gluttony | Sloth | Greed | Wrath | Pride

-

Leah’s face is flushed, her eyes blazing with an anger that mirrors your own. This argument has been escalating for a while now, words sharpening into knives that cut deep. The room is thick with tension, the remnants of the stupid awards ceremony still hanging in the air like a bad smell. You can still hear the distant echoes of laughter and conversation from the afterparty, but here, in the suffocating silence of your living room, everything feels like it’s on the brink of exploding.

“Are you seriously trying to make this about me?” Leah snaps, her voice razor-sharp, slicing through the fragile calm that had barely been holding. “You were practically draped all over her. I invited you, for fuck’s sake. Do you have any idea how that made me look?”

You shove a hand through your hair, your frustration boiling over, turning your blood to lava. “I was just being friendly! You act like I’m not allowed to talk to anyone but you. That’s not my problem if you’re feeling insecure”

Leah’s eyes narrow into slits, and she steps closer, the heat radiating off her body making the air between you both almost unbearable. “Insecure? I’m not insecure. I’m pissed off because you’re being fucking disrespectful. You think you can just waltz in there and flirt with everyone while I’m supposed to sit there and smile?”

Her words sting, lashing out and striking nerves you didn’t even know were exposed. But beneath the surface of your anger, something else bubbles up—a twisted, burning need that’s just as furious and insatiable as the rage. You can’t deny the way her jealousy, her possessiveness, ignites something primal in you.

Before you can think twice, before you can convince yourself that fighting her off is the right move, you surge forward, grabbing her shirt and ripping it open, buttons scattering across the floor like shrapnel. Leah’s eyes widen in shock for just a moment, but then she’s on you, her hands yanking at your clothes with a savage desperation.

“You want to make a scene?” she growls, her voice rough and feral as she shoves your pants down your legs, nearly tearing them in the process. “Let’s fucking make one”

Clothes are discarded carelessly, the fabric pooling on the floor as your bodies clash in a heated frenzy. Leah’s hands are everywhere at once, her touch rough, almost punishing, as she presses you against the cold glass of the living room window. The sensation sends a shiver through your overheated skin, the stark contrast heightening the tension coiling in your belly.

Your breath fogs up the glass as Leah’s fingers slide between your legs, her touch demanding, insistent. “Stay right where you are,” she orders, her voice a low rumble that vibrates through you. “I’m going to show you exactly what happens when you step out of line”

You shiver at the raw authority in her voice, a mix of fear and arousal twisting in your gut. But the words that spill from your lips are defiant, almost mocking. “You think you can just control me? I’m not some toy for you to play with, Leah”

Her fingers pause, and for a moment, you think you’ve pushed her too far. But then she’s right up against you, her body pinning you to the glass, her breath hot against your ear. “Oh, you’re not just a toy. You’re mine,” she hisses, her voice laced with a dark promise. “And I’m going to make damn sure you never forget that”

She pulls away abruptly, and you hear the rustle of her moving across the room, followed by the unmistakable clatter of a drawer opening in the distance. Your heart pounds in your chest, anticipation and dread warring inside you. When she returns, she’s holding a strap, her eyes gleaming with a mix of determination and something darker, more primal.

“Since you want to act like a little brat,” Leah says, her voice low and intense, “I’m going to show the world who you belong to”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before she’s positioning herself behind you, the cool plastic of the strap pressing against your entrance. You barely have time to brace yourself before she thrusts into you, hard and unyielding, the sensation almost too much too fast.

Your gasp echoes through the room, your body instinctively arching away from the cold glass as Leah grips your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Stay still,” she commands, her voice brooking no argument. “You’re going to take every inch of this, and you’re going to love it”

You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips as she starts to move, her thrusts deep and punishing, each one driving you further into the window, the cool surface biting into your overheated skin. The pleasure is sharp, almost painful, but it’s exactly what you need, what you’ve been craving since the argument began.

Leah’s pace is relentless, her hands tight on your hips, her body pressing into yours with each thrust. “Tell me you’re mine,” she demands, her voice a fierce whisper, her breath hot against the back of your neck. “Say it”

You grit your teeth, stubbornness flaring up even as your body betrays you, pushing back against her with each thrust. “I’m not yours,” you manage to gasp out, even as the pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core.

Leah’s grip on your hips tightens almost painfully, and she leans in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “You’re about to be,” she growls, punctuating her words with a particularly hard thrust that nearly knocks the breath out of you.

Your defiance crumbles under the weight of her dominance, the pleasure and pain blurring together into a dizzying whirlwind that leaves you gasping for air. The slap of her skin against yours, the rough drag of the strap inside you, it’s all too much, too overwhelming.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Leah demands again, her voice harsher now, tinged with frustration and something more—desperation, maybe. “Say it, or I swear I’ll fuck you until you can’t speak”

The threat sends a thrill through you, your resolve wavering under the onslaught of sensation. “I’m… I’m yours,” you finally gasp out, your voice trembling, the admission dragged from your lips like a confession.

Leah’s pace doesn’t falter, but you can feel the satisfaction radiating from her, a dark chuckle vibrating through her chest as she leans in to nip at the back of your neck. “Good,” she murmurs, her tone dangerously soft. “Because you belong to me, and I’m going to make sure you remember it”

Each thrust drives the point home, the rhythm of her movements becoming almost hypnotic, your body surrendering completely to her control. You’re pushed closer and closer to the edge, your hands braced against the window, your breath fogging up the glass as you struggle to hold on to any semblance of control.

But Leah doesn’t give you that luxury. She fucks you harder, deeper, her grip on your hips unrelenting, her dominance absolute. “Look at yourself,” she demands, her voice a low growl. “Look at how good you take me. How much you need me”

Your eyes flicker open, catching your reflection in the window, and the sight that greets you is almost too much. You’re pressed up against the window, your skin flushed, your lips parted as you pant for breath, Leah’s body moving behind you with a determined ferocity that leaves you trembling. The image is raw, primal, and the sight of yourself like this—vulnerable and utterly dominated—sends you spiraling over the edge.

You come with a cry that echoes around the room, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you, Leah’s name falling from your lips like a prayer. But she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down, driving you through the aftershocks, her own breaths coming in ragged gasps as she holds you steady.

When she finally pulls out, you’re left slumped against the window, your body trembling, your mind a hazy blur of pleasure and exhaustion. Leah presses a kiss to your shoulder, her touch now gentle, soothing the sting of her earlier roughness.

“Remember, please” she murmurs, her voice low and almost tender, her lips brushing against your ear. “Remember that you’re mine”

[klausysworld]

Very closed off reader who kinda clings to Klaus because they relate to him in the fact that he has family troubles :( she sees that he clearley does the things he does because of trauma or whatever and so does everything in her power to show him that he's got someone to fall back on.

Every time he shouts at her or retaleates because he's upset and dosent understand how soemone could be so nice to him she simply gives him a hug or a gift or just sits some distance away to show he isn't alone.

She deals with all his meanness quite well because she's used to it from her family and has learned to block it out :( one day he really has enough of her and after something goes wrong with Elena or Salvatore he really doesn't want reader around him. She tells him quite confidently that he needs soemone to help him and she would never leave him alone at which point he smirks and says something snarky before proving that he doesn't need her. He reaches into her chest and grips her heart and kinda realises he is in the wrong when she looks kinda shocked and sad so he gently takes his hand out and feeds her his blood to help with the damage he left behind. Afterwards reader is less affectionate with him and only sits with him when he is in a state, now afraid to touch him incase he lashes out but still wanting to support him cuz she cares about him :(

Thanks for reading, love your stories!

The Betrayed Becomes The Betrayer.

Growing up on an aggressive household desensitised me to a lot of things; yelling and smashing objects especially. My parents were a mess, I'm not sure if they didn't know how to love or just didn't want to.

Eventually I realised that they were the same thing and that I wasn't wanted at home, so I left and found Hayley.

Which was how I wound up finding Klaus.

He was a broken man, I could tell. Elijah confirmed that their parents had been cruel and abusive almost as soon as we met him which I assumed they also must've become desensitised over it after a thousand years.

However when I actually met Klaus, it was obvious that he was still deeply affected by it. I could understand him, his feelings and his thoughts. I got why he wanted to be so strategic, to have the control that was taken form him. I knew why he wanted to make people hurt the way he hurt and why he was as aggressive as the the people that raised him.

I wasn't violent, or an angry person. I had learnt to be quiet and keep things to myself so that I didn't get in the way but I would think about it. How it would feel to hurt someone, to make them feel worthless and then leave them. Could it really feel good enough to do over and over?

In my head I assumed it must do but I could never bring myself to actually torment someone the way I had been.

But I could tell that Klaus was still haunted by the past and it affected his every move. I couldn't blame him, or fault him for acting upon the images that swirled in my own mind.

Often he got frustrated, angry and inevitably lash out against someone. Something would be thrown, smashed. Someone would be yelling, screaming.

But I never wanted to be mad at him, to me he didn't deserve to be ranted at for what he'd done. They were riling him up further and it was obvious, it was like they wanted him to explode and hurt someone.

So instead of pushing him off that edge, I tried to help him back up.

To begin with I would just be the only one in the room not glaring at him with hatred. I just wanted him to know that there was someone on his side. He didn't notice for a little while but after a couple arguments I think he started to feel my presence. Sometimes he would get snappy, ask what I was looking at but when I'd just tell him that I understood why he did what he did, Klaus would get less defensive.

I wasn't a touchy person, ever, but the time his mother had been back and she hurt him so bad that he cried in his room, I didn't know what else to do but hug him.

After that it seemed like I was hugging him all the time. He calmed so much easier with some touch.

Sometimes he accepted it without complaint but sometimes he didn't want anyone near him so I would go away and come back later. He knew I was there when he needed me and I learnt to be a patient person.

I also learnt not to react so when he screamed in my face I didn't yell back. He had been so stressed lately and a lot of people had died yesterday the day before. I left him alone for the night before coming back in the morning to try and be there, he didn't want to talk so I went away and came back in the afternoon. To begin with he was fine but he got angry so fast, I barely said anything before he was yelling.

I tried not to react, not to talk back or get defensive but then he pushed me. Both hands on my shoulders, shoving me backward toward the wall and I tensed and something stirred in me.

I told him he was being ridiculous, pathetic and he didn't know what he needed.

"What? You think I need you? You think I like your desperate little cuddles. I'm not the one craving touch and love. I've been fine for centuries and I don't need a clingy little thing following me around." He snapped at me and I felt my frown deepen and the hurt biting at me.

"I'm not being clingy...I'm just trying to be helpful." I whispered and he scoffed.

Klaus got close, too close and it frightened me a little. I took a few steps back and he chuckled, trapping me to the wall.

"What is it, love? No more snuggles? You don't want to tell me it's okay? You gonna tell me I should paint a picture?" He mocked, his breath hot on my face. "You think I'm pathetic sweetheart? Think I need you? All I need is for you to disappear." His voice was low but clear, eyes cold and I felt the adrenaline hit and screaming for me to run but I froze just like I used to when I was little.

The smallest sound left me when I felt something agonising within my chest. My mouth opened but no noise would come out and I struggled to breath at all. I looked down, watching my own blood seep through my clothes and drip down his wrist. My eyes were stinging and I could feel my heart close to exploding as his grip tightened. I wasn't sure if I was stood there for hours or seconds before my body reacted and my arms shot up, both my hands latching onto his wrist so he couldn't pull the organ out.

My eyes shot up to look into his, seeing them soften after a second before his hand let go around my heart. A loud cry left me when he tore his fist out of my chest, leaving a gaping hole. I panted and a strong metallic taste filled my mouth as blood dripped past my lips.

His voice sounded blurry when he tried to tell me something, nothing felt real as my legs went weak and his hands touched my sides. The touch made me cry again and I felt him hesitate before something gross was pressed to my mouth and I couldn't tell if I was choking on my blood or his.

After a moment I could feel my body healing from the inside out, physically I felt better but now my mind was spinning. I looked up at him again, I could feel the fear pulsing through my veins when he reached his hand toward me.

This time I didn't freeze.

I was up and out of the room as fast as my legs could move.

I avoided him for a few days, part of me knew he wasn't going to do anything again and that he felt bad about it but the other part of me couldn't help but worry.

It was only when he was attacked again that I willingly sat in the same room as him.

"You okay?" I asked and he looked over to me, he was splattered with blood but at least it wasn’t mine.

"Yeah...I'm okay." He whispered, nodding.

I shifted in my place and he shuffled over on the couch so I could sit on the other end to him. The silence was awkward for a while, actually the entire time.

It was for quite a lot of the times I was near him. I wanted to be there for him, show him I understood but I was still scared and I didn't want to be close enough that he could kill me or hurt me just incase he did.

It was when he was carried in my Elijah, Papa Tunde’s blade in his chest causing him to be immobile and in agonising pain, when I got close again.

Elijah dropped him to the bed with a soft thud and was moving fast. He turned, looking right at me before talking.

“I need you to feed him your blood. It’s laced with vervain, he’ll heal slow. You need to keep him here or he is going to kill Rebekah. I don’t want to burden you, Y/N, but I’m afraid you’re the only who’s even a possibility.” He directed quickly, whilst dragging the blade from his brother’s chest.

“A possibility for what?” I asked, confused and afraid. I didn’t want to give him my blood. It was like asking him to kill me.

“You’re the only person he might listen to.” He explained as he headed for the door. “He won’t hurt you.” He told me and it sounded like a promise before he left.

Klaus let out a groan and I turned, hesitantly walking over to the edge of his bed. I silently dammed myself for being concerned enough to follow Elijah when he carried him in here.

I looked down at him, wincing at the cut that hadn’t healed down the length of his bare chest.

“What…what happened?” I whispered, wanting to reach out to touch but willing myself not to.

“Elijah-“ Klaus grunted, his teeth grinding as he forced words out. “He stabbed me for her.” It was clear that rage was all he felt in that moment as he tried to push himself up, only to let out a cry of pain.

“Rebekah?” I wondered and he seethed.

“She betrayed me. Called Mikael. She wanted me dead!” He yelled, his aggression growing as I felt my hairs stand on edge.

I was quiet, watching him struggle desperately.

I understand why he was so mad, betrayal was a huge thing for him. Abandonment, paranoia. It made him this way and Rebekah used it and ruined all of their lives but I had no doubt she had her reasons…not that I’d tell him that.

“She doesn’t now” I whispered and his had snapped to me. “She loved you now, she’s here now-“

“Only months ago did she stand beside Marcellus and watch as his vampires tried to kill me. She has always wanted me gone. She’s so desperate for Marcel that she’d kill her own brother-“ he snapped and I flinched.

His voice died off when I stepped back and he grunted softly. He was taking fast but deep breaths, trying to gather some stability and I could feel Elijah’s words echoing through me. That I had to let Klaus feed from me.

Reluctantly I shifted closer again, he was quiet as I sat down on the edge of his bed. His body was laid so close to me and his chest moved with each pain-filled breath.

My entire arm shook as I held it out, right infront of his face and it made his skin dance with veins. “Love…” he muttered, his jaw clenching as he inhaled through his nose. “I’m not going to hurt you” he uttered, I could feel his eyes on my but I couldn’t look back at his. “Not again. Just…there’s blood bags downstairs”

“Elijah said I have to use mine, the vervain makes it slower or something? I don’t know…I can’t do it wrong” I pushed my wrist closer, glancing at the fangs that were pushing past his gums.

“He won’t be mad.”

“He’s trusting me.” I whispered, finally looking up to klaus’s eyes and he sighed before slowly nodding.

I almost tugged my arm back when I felt his teeth pierce the skin, the sting making me move but his hand lifted to keep me in place. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he fed, it was such a strange sensation; much less painful than a needle.

As I felt myself weaken, I noticed the wound across his body fixing itself. My eyes started to go and for a second I faltered, my head beginning to drop but his other hand caught my chin and held me up. His fangs retreated back up and something warm and wet slid across my wrist before I was leaned up against him.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He whispered into my ear. “I have to finish what they’ve started.” He told me and I knew he wanted to murder Rebekah and I wanted to talk to him but he’d taken so much blood. His eyes stared straight into mine, reaching into my mind. “You’re going to fall asleep, you’ll wake tomorrow morning and you will feel no pain from this bite. I will heal you when I return. I promise I didn’t take enough to kill you, just to empty you of vervain.”

I wanted to argue, yell or anything but my mind shut down and my eyes wouldn’t stay open. I sunk into myself completely and lay, somehow conscious and unconscious as I tried to wake myself up.

I woke the next morning like he instructed my body to do, I glanced at my wrist to find it wrapped in bandages. My head lifted to see a glass of water, tinted pink by what I assumed was blood beside a small teddybear.

Hesitantly I sipped the drink, feeling instantly better before picking up the toy.

“I thought you’d like it” a voice sounded from the doorway, I glanced to see Klaus. Both his hands were behind his back and a guilty look painted his face.

I pushed myself up, it felt strange being in someone else’s bed; especially Klaus’s.

I didn’t answer him as I got up and pushed past him, shoving the teddy into his chest and going straight to my own room.

For a man who hated betrayal, he sure knew how to commit it.

He knew I was already afraid of him, that I didn’t want to be that close again and he took advantage of the ounce of trust I still had.

I understood him, but I couldn’t do this again. I’d been in this situation too many times.

[okiedokrie]

Dress

Summary: Watching your best friend get hot was a struggle, him not fucking you was harder.

Characters/Pairing: Best Friend!Lee Chan (Dino) x Fem!Reader

Genre: smut, porn without plot there is some if you squint

AU/Trope Info: Best Friends to Fucking, College AU

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, some threats of body harm to self and to others mentioned, smut warnings under the cut

A/N: tagging @bitchlessdino and @the-boy-meets-evil as the main enablers of chan porn, thank you to @wonuvs for beta-reading!

Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, marking, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

Silence. Patience, pining, and anticipation. You think you might be going insane with how hard you're holding back from exploding in his face. You watch your best friend, Chan, talk to a girl, who in your opinion is too into whatever he's saying.

Like, okay, he's funny. But he's not squeeze his arm and throw your head back funny.

You're convinced if you stare hard enough you'll be able to burn a hole through the skull of this- objectively pretty- girl. Yeah, you can't get too jealous because she's gorgeous and you would've probably hated Chan if he fumbled her.

Still, that doesn't quench the burning hot jealousy you feel. The fire burning in your stomach being the catalyst for the events that followed that party. The unmistakable, ugly, green head of pure jealousy.

Chan, with his stupidly sculpted face that you've watched mature over the years, his perfect long black hair, his muscles pressing against his shirt, leather jacket, sittable nose-

You just think it's unfair how hot Chan has gotten and he still hasn't thought of fucking you. This isn't fair at all.

Just as you were about to successfully finish off the poor girl in various different ways, Chan finally noticed you stewing in your own envy; hands almost shaking from how hard you were holding back from him.

Chan excuses himself from the girl, much to your relief, to finally join your side again.

“Hey babe, you holding good here?” He says, with that signature, annoyingly charming, dopey smile of his.

“Chan, not gonna lie, I'm gonna fucking kill myself if you don't fuck me right now.” 

If Chan was surprised at your sudden horny outburst, he didn't show it. Ever the giver he is, he gives you one last dopey grin before leaning in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

The force of the kiss caused you to drop the cup you were nursing, the warm beer spilling and soaking into the carpet, but you didn’t care—that was going to be Soonyoung's problem.

Your hands snake up from his firm chest tothe back of his neck, using it as leverage to pull yourself up to his height while pressing him to you.

You both separate from the kiss after remembering that you are, in fact, in public.

“Fuck, get me upstairs now.” You almost said in a whine, desperately clinging onto Chan like your life depended on it—and franky, it actually does.

He just giggles while gently guiding you upstairs to his room, a hand on your lower back while he guides you up the stairs. Entering his room, he stops to call for you,

“Y/n.” 

Your name on his lips made the world stop for a second. It was something simple—he's said it a thousand times—yet, the way he says it now makes you not want him as a best friend. Your name felt like a sleeper agent phrase that awakened a different level of horny in you that you didn’t think was possible.

Instead of replying, you opted to keep kissing him: his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, everywhere your lips could reach.

He falls onto the bed with a soft rustling noise from the sheets, and climbing on top of him, you greedily grind your clothed cunt on his hardening cock under his jeans. 

“Oh fuck, don't do that, not in that dress. I'm gonna cum like in my pants like a loser.” He smiles at you, nose wrinkling in a light-hearted grimace. 

“Oh, Channie,” you started, “I only got this dress so you could take it off.” 

A pathetic moan leaves him, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hips jump, his hard cock pressing onto you.

Your lips meet his again. He swallows your sighs of content when his bulge bumps against your throbbing clit, his hands running up your thighs, hot palms dragging up the length of them under the fabric of your dress.

Grabbing handfuls of your ass, Chan keeps the pace as you continue to grind on him, swallowing each other's noises of desperation. 

Chan holds you close to him as he flips you both over, rolling you on your back, his lips reluctantly detaching from yours to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your throat, letting out quiet moans at the taste of it.

Sucking on a specific spot on your neck, Chan's fingers hook on the straps of your dress to shimmy it off of you,  causing a shiver to run down your spine. Now, almost naked in front of him, you paw at his clothes. He pants as he shrugs off his jacket and takes his shirt off, your bare chests pressing against each other's as your lips meet for another feverish kiss.

“Chan, get naked quicker, please- I– I need you inside me so badly.” You whimpered, not caring if you seemed too needy because soon after, Chan's jeans and boxers are on the floor, and his hard cock slaps on his abs, his tip red, angry, leaking for you. Just looking at it, you’re convinced that thing could easily reach up to your throat. 

Ripping your panties off, Chan gets on top of you. “Fuck, you're so wet, lemme hit, babe.” Laughing, you give him the go ahead. Then, his lips are on yours, kissing you as a very large cock tries to split you open.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the satisfying burn of his cock occupying all of your thoughts, successfully dicknotizing you.

Chan wastes no time to set a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass while his pelvis deliciously hits your clit. Clawing at his sheets, you let out loud, unashamed moans, not caring if someone at the relatively calm frat party downstairs heard you.

“Fuck, do you know how long I've dreamt of this? Finally getting to fuck this pussy like it's mine? Are you mine, babe?” Chan babbled, pussy drunk and distracted by your tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts.

You're no better than him, already so out of it that you can’t even process the filthy confessions leaving Chan's mouth. Licking your lips, you tilt your head up to suck marks into his skin, burgundy bruises soon blooming as his hips stutter. 

The desperate slapping sounds of your groins meeting shift to shallow ones as you both near your climaxes, Chan letting out precious little gasps and cut-off moans with every thrust.

Not doing any better than him, you whine, dragging your nails down his back, angry red lines appearing on his skin at their wake.

Then, your highs hit you at the same time, white hot pleasure seeping into your bones and boiling under your skin, ears ringing and vision blurring. With a gasp, Chan spills his load deep inside your gummy walls, making your cunt clench around him, sticking to him like a second skin.

Still in that post-orgasm bliss, Chan's hips don't stop moving. stretching your pussy with his cock over and over again, making you both dizzily cling to each other, bodies shivering, mouths drinking in the other's whimpers.

Chan was rutting his hips into yours like he'd perish if he stopped, both of you cringing from over stimulation, Chan sobbing about how good being inside of you felt. Even after just orgasming not 10 seconds ago, he's still hard and desperate to dump another load into you.

You're not sure if your night would end, even after the 4th time he made you cum.

[okwonyo]

⟡ CRAZY OVER YOU ── watching you perfom。

( 书架 ) PRECiS ˵ˊᯅˋ˵ ྀི 엔하이픈 ੭୧ f .. idol —r 8OO profanity kissing ！ fluff potential future / established relationship

ˊᗜˋreblogs&feebacks。CLICK

HEESEUNG ｡｡ would have been interested in you for a long while before seeing you performing in real life. as the persistent man he is, would have been waiting patiently for the day he could see you in real life.

would feel all giddy inside at the thought of seeing you performing alone, unable to contain his smile when he hears the start of your group’s song playing on stage. one of the members would whisper, “look, your crush is performing” and he would tell him to stop as he giggles.

adoration would shy in his iris while he watches you dancing; your facial expressions, your moves, your voice, would taste like honey to him. would get quickly addicted by the thought of talking to you very soon.

JAY ｡｡ before your performance, would reassure you. telling you how great you will do while holding both of your hands in it, would whisper sweet words to you, seeing stress leaving your body while he does.

would get so excited when he watches your group appear in front of his eyes, all ready to perform and confident. would even be the first to get up to cheer you up two seconds after the song starts.

his mind would be filled with thoughts about how cool his girlfriend is and how proud he can be of her— of you. would vibe to the song, a cute smile creeping on his lips.

JAKE ｡｡ as he would have never seen you before, wouldn’t really expect anyone in particular from your performance. not that he would wait for something bad— just a regular performance like he usually witnesses.

his heart would explode in his chest the second your, quoting from his own mind, beyond beautiful face appears on the screen. and with your sweet voice ringing in his ears, he would develop admiration for you instantly.

that feeling would quickly transform into a crush at the end of the stage, when you smile at the camera and giggle in the microphone. the urge to put to scream would weight in his chest as well as the urge to put his whole fist in his mouth to stop it.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ would try to keep his expressions to the minimum, although he would barely be able to stay still on his chair when the thought of seeing you dance running through his mind alone.

his gaze would be so devoted to you that all the facial expressions that appear on your face would all appear on his as well. his plan about being discreet would fade in the air.

the first thing he would do when he sees you face to face again would be kissing you and whispering: “everything you do is amazing” against your soft lips.

SUNOO ｡｡ would be the biggest fan of your music since the very first time he heard one of your group’s song. and from that moment, would want to be friends with you — which would happen, then would grow to something more.

would react to your performance so well; eyes widened, mouth agape, clapping, putting his hand over his mouth. all this in the spawn of merely five minutes. when you appear on the big screen, he would giggle and get suddenly flustered.

“she is wonderful, right?” he would ask the member next to him, in such an endearing tone that could melt anyone who is listening to it.

JUNGWON ｡｡ would bump his head along the music, mouthing the lyrics as he watches the performance with all his affection offered to you.

whenever the camera focuses on you, on your face or you whole body, he wouldn’t be able to do anything but raise his eyebrows while thinking ‘god-she-is-beautiful’ — especially when you wink or send a kiss.

would visibly bite down a smile, but it wouldn’t really work. his cute dimples showings off as he contemplates his girl performing beautifully.

RIKI ｡｡ would be kept awake the night before, caused by the idea of one of his biggest dream becoming reality; seeing his biggest crush perform in real life.

a smirk would toy on his lips when he would watch you perform. amongst all your group’s members, he would only see you, with stars in his pretty eyes. his heart pulse would get ridiculously higher whereupon you show your beautiful smile.

one of his hyungs would even poke his side discreetly everytime your visuals appears on the immense screen, teasing about his crush — and he would get so, so shy.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open！

(..◜ᴗ◝..) this is a revamp .. sort of ? i already posted something like this a while back huhu >< i hope you enjoyed this one and thank u for reading 😚😚💕💕

[thewritetofreespeech]

words: 1.3K rating: E pairing: Gale x Tav [pining stages of Act 1] summary: After so long of being unable to touch, Gale is finally able to experience physical intimacy for the first time in a long time. Even if it's just by himself. [ based off of a request for more details on the bg3 masturbation headcanons I did previously.]

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

It had been a few hours now since Elminster had left. His old friend likely on the long journey back to Waterdeep, or whatever far parts of the realm ancient powerful wizards wandered off to.

Gale touched his chest for the first time in a while without total fear. The spell Elminster had put on him had worked. The orb felt less volatile than in the past. It was still there, laying heavy near his heart like a stack of bricks, but not like a stack of tinder boxes waiting to explode.

The knowledge of what this respite came with also weighed heavy on his heart. Mystra has asked that he make the ultimate sacrifice for the realm, and for her forgiveness. The latter of which was not guaranteed.

There had been a time during the beginning of his banishment when he would have gladly done as she asked. Blown himself up in spectacular glory. Opened every vein and let his life blood spill out to paint her likeness on an open canvas. He would have done anything for Mystra. But now….

Gale looked across the camp to where Tav was chatting with Lae’zel and Shadowheart. The three in a heated discussion from the looks of it, likely on what to do about the crèche and how to infiltrate it. Where they go next is of little concern to Gale, because it has no consequence for the damned, so he just looked at Tav as they tried to mitigate the argument.

Since that time in the Weave with them, Gale had been nearly fixated on their leader with a passion he thought only reserved for his goddess and books. But what he felt for Tav was so very different from those feelings. Where he revered Mystra he…respected Tav. Their strength. Their decisiveness. Their generosity to help and extend a hand to any in need. Their willingness to admit fault. He’d been beguiled, and the outer package did very little to help dissuade their spell.

Gale felt a tell-tale tightening of his pants beneath his robes as he continued to look and think on Tav, and was prepared to dampen those feelings down like always. With the orb he couldn’t risk any undo stimuli to his person; not with an ancient blight that wiped out civilization stowed away in his chest. But….that wasn’t an issue anymore, was it? The clock had stopped, as Elminster said, so he didn’t have to worry about blowing up. Just doing it at the right time, according to Mystra’s orders.

The wizard slipped back into his tent, unnoticed by anyone. He didn’t think that anyone would bother him right now. Assuming that Gale needed time to think in light of the circumstances. Which, he did, but not right now. There would be plenty of time to hyper fixate on his problems later. Right now, he wanted to test a new theory.

Unlacing his top tunic, he looking down his body towards his bulge now visible in his pants. Gale hesitated, but then slowly drew his hand closer to rub his palm over it. Instantly he moaned. It had been so long since he had felt the sensation of touch this way on his body. Depression and then fear drying up his libido like herbs on his balcony back in Waterdeep. But now a summer rain had come to refresh it. A reprieve. A chance to feel again. He didn’t want to waste it.

Removing the lacings on his pants as well, Gale opened his trousers and his cock sprung free. Seeming to know what was going on and more eager than its master to be touched again. He grasped the shaft and began to stroke himself. A burning tingle crackling up from his fingertip, down to the base, and up his spine. He forgot how good it felt to be touched. How long had it been since he touched himself?

With Mystra, their intimacy had always been noncorporeal. Mind altering. Mind shattering. But bodies completely removed from the process. He thought he didn’t need touch when he had the ‘touch’ of a goddess, so he did not imbibe in such activities. Then the option was taken away from him, and he could not imbibe. So he genuinely could not remember hold long it had been. Had it always been this good? Or was his long bout of abstinence merely the cause?

Gale couldn’t think more on his hypothesis as his hand sped up and his mind became soul focused on that feeling. He was beginning to pant. Drooling, even. He can feel that he was going to cum fast but doesn’t stop. His seed shot out in a long, thick ribbon on the side of his tent that he would clean up later, but he doesn’t stop. He needed more. Even as his cock twitched from having just came, it still cried out for more.

His other hand came up to touch his body. Play with his chest. Touch his nipples. He couldn’t remember how he used to like it before, and his fogged mind was not helping make decisions. His hand reached down into his pants as well to cup his balls, and Gale was cumming again quickly as he fondled himself. Still not enough.

Moving to take off all of his clothes and lay down on his cot, Gale attempted to calm his breathing as he slowed his hand. His cum acted as a lubricant now to help slide his hand over the still hard flesh. He hadn’t been able to jerk off this many times in a row since he was a boy.

As his hand slowed, the fog in his mind seemed to clear a little. Breaking way to the brightness of Tav’s face. He wondered how they would touch him. How those hands that gripped their weapon so tight, and the callouses at their palms, would feel against his cock. Gale whimpered at the thought. His hands were too soft to imagine it properly.

He thought of them being here, with him. Kissing them like he should have during that moment in the Weave. Touching their body as well as they moaned and whined under him. He could almost see it. Conjure it. But he would not insult Tav by making some malformed copy of them with magic. He wanted the real thing.

His fantasy continued until he came a third time, hot & sticky over his hand, and Gale seemed to calm down. Feeling finally sated for the first time in a long time. Who knew masturbation could be a form of self-care?

“Gale.”

The wizard jumped. His pliable peace ruined as he heard a familiar voice outside his tent. One he had just been fantasizing about moments ago. “Y-Yes?”

“I um…I just wanted to make sure you were ok. And see if you wanted anything for dinner?”

Gale was surprised as he didn’t realize how late it had gotten. “Oh. Dinner? No, not really. I can get started soon….”

“No, no! That wasn’t what I was asking. I can do it tonight. You just…if you need some time…we’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

He heard the shuffle of boots walk away from his tent. Their concern touched him. The clear worry in his voice over him pulling something in him that not only made his loins burn but his chest feel tight. But in a good way, not in the way this damned orb felt.

Gale decided then and there that he would not waste what little time he had left on wishes & fantasy. He would tell Tav how he felt. Then he could die without regret. He would just need to come up with a plan to tell them. Someone as beautiful, kind, and perfect as Tav deserved more than just a simple confession. The deserved the moon, the stars.

Gale’s eyes widened as he suddenly remembered a spell he’d created long ago. He’d have to remember how it was done but yes. Yes! That could work.

[supernovafics]

eddie has a crush on you

wc: 683

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

eddie has a crush on you, and it’s become blatantly obvious to everyone except you. 

only days after he met you at the hideout when robin introduced you both, he made you a mixtape. you had half-mentioned that you wanted to get into new music and eddie ran with that information, putting the tape together in just one night and then giving it to robin to give to you since she saw you more often. 

the next time you saw him at some group hangout at steve’s house, you told him that you really liked the songs he put on the mixtape and his heart nearly exploded out of his chest. he happily smiled and rambled on and on about some of the specific songs you said you liked, recommending you more songs from the artist and promising that he’d bring you their full album or just make you another mixtape altogether. 

that was when everyone saw it, how much he obviously liked you. but, you didn’t. 

you saw everything he did for you as just a simple friendly gesture, which was great in your eyes because you wanted more friends in this small town that you moved to only a few months ago.

when he was the only one that would come with you to see some new horror movie at the theater, or when he showed up during your quiet shifts at the bookstore and stayed for a few hours just to keep you company, you simply felt lucky to have him as a friend. 

robin was the only one to tell you differently, though. 

“oh, come on. he’s looked like a little puppy pining after you these past few weeks. i can’t believe you don’t see it.”

you laughed at her words. “you’re insane.”

“no, i’m right,” she said and you only shook your head in response, another laugh falling from your lips because you still couldn’t really believe it. 

that changed only a week later, when you got sick and robin told eddie, and then he showed up to your place armed with chicken noodle soup, cough syrup, and a few movies that you had mentioned to him one time that you really liked. 

“you made this yourself?” you asked as you poured the soup out of its tupperware and into a bowl. 

he smiled sheepishly at you as he nodded. “yeah… it actually wasn’t that hard, though. this lady at the grocery store helped me get the ingredients and then basically wrote down the instructions for me too.”

you gave him a small smile. “thank you.”

you looked down at the bowl of soup. him making it was probably the nicest thing someone had ever done for you, and that was when you finally knew. it was also when you realized how you felt too. 

you both settled on your couch after you ate the soup. one of the movies eddie brought over was playing in front of you and your head was against his shoulder because the cough syrup was making you a little sleepy. 

“eddie,” you said with a sniffle maybe halfway through the movie and turned your head to look at him. there was something about the drowsiness of the medicine that made you feel a little bold in that moment. “do you like me? like, more than just as a friend?”

how red his cheeks got at your questions told you everything you needed to know, but he still gave you a flustered response. “oh, um, yeah. yeah, i do… but, i completely understand if you don’t and—”

you cut him off with a quick shake of your head and you gave him a small smile. “no, it’s okay. i like you too.”

the immediate elated grin that broke out on his face at your words made you want to kiss him, but you refrained from doing so because you didn’t want to make him sick too; you were also too tired. 

“oh. nice. cool,” he said, trying to act normal about it all but was still smiling widely. 

you laughed a bit. “cool.”

[galedekarios]

gale & karlach

i think out of all the dynamics between the companions, i've come to enjoy gale and karlach the most over my time with the game. karlach especially bc she's the only one who genuinely seems to care about and for gale.

she repeatedly checks in on him after the orb reveal and doesn't turn it into a joke about slurping carrots, or sipping wine, or wanting him to be gone entirely from the group.

not only does she advocate for him to stay three times, depending on which dialogue path you pick:

gale's background story reveal & the reveal about the netherese orb

Karlach: Come on. We all have our secrets - and our risks. If Gale leaves, we might as well disband completely. - Karlach: Absolutely. We're all risky in our own ways. We stick together anyway. Right? - Karlach: If having dangerous, otherworldly objects stuck in your skin is wrong, then Gale and I both have to go. We're not really splitting up, are we?

but she's also the only one who repeatedly asks him throughout the game how he is doing, to make sure how he's faring, both in general and with his debilitating condition:

act 2 - shadow-cursed lands banter

Karlach: Doing all right, Gale? Gale: Oh, you know... Still alive and kicking, despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of darkness and decay... devnote: Almost with a sigh. That's just how things are - Grim humour to it. Karlach: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

act 3 - after mystra stabilised the orb

Karlach: How's the orb treating you, Gale? Gale: Oh, quite well as a matter of fact. Since it was stabilised, it's been humming along nicely. Gale: I have noticed one adverse side-effect. I seem to be losing hair in some, er, unexpected places. Karlach: I can only imagine.

i think it really bears repeating/stressing that no other companion does this. not one checks in on gale like karlach does, after his affliction has become known to his companions - with the exception of the protag potentially.

karlach also arguably has the strongest reaction in response to mystra's demands in act 2, showing again her care for gale, as well as her protective side:

Karlach: Aw, was that Gale's granddad? Player: That was Elminster Aumar - the most famous wizard in the realms. Karlach: Huh. Doesn't ring a bell. But all right! Must've had something important to say to Gale, if he came all this way. Good news, I hope. Player: I don't think it was. It turns out Gale has an explosive bomb in his chest - and Mystra has asked him to use it to blow up the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: Whoa, now. He's got a... well, I guess that would explain a little, but... Mystra... I mean, this is a lot to take in. Karlach: What's he going to do? - Player - Option 1: I think he's going to follow through with it. Karlach: Fuck me. There's devotion, and then there's stupidity. If the��god of magic can't handle this without sacrificing Gale, she's no god at all. - Player - Option 2: I don't think he'd do that to himself, even if Mystra commanded it. Karlach: Good. I'm one hundred percent sure there's another way to bring down this cult. No true god would ask such a thing from her faithful. That's for certain. Karlach: Poor Gale. He must be in bits after hearing that. I'll distract him. Tell him I haven't read a book since secondary school, watch his face melt off. - Player - Option 3: I'm not sure. I think he's of several minds. Karlach: Well, tell him to pick the right one. Better yet, I'll do it. Fucking wizards, man! They always need help picking the simple, obvious option. Karlach: If Mystra can't think of another way to stop the Absolute than sacrificing Gale, she's no god worth worshipping. I'll say that to Gale - in, you know, gentle terms. - Player - Option 4: You know that bomb in Gale's chest? Mystra has asked him to use it to explode the heart of the Absolute. Karlach: She what?! Is she mad?! - Player - Option 5: Don't worry about it. Karlach: Karlach doesn't worry, she acts. So if Gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.

i particularly like that last response bc it really echoes throughout her relationship with gale ("karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me.").

their banters are often playful, but also genuine. both karlach and gale tease each other, they joke with each other, showing how comfortable they are with each other despite their many differences, but there are also moments of understanding and care between them, allowing them to emphasise with each other:

Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who? Gale: She who thirsts buys drinks the first. devnote: Like it's a well-known saying Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! devnote: Jockeying with Gale (prob supposed to be Joking with Gale) Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.

Karlach: Just when I was getting used to the sky again... Gale: Fear not, Karlach. Sun, moon and stars will still be there waiting for us. devnote: Reassuring Karlach: Meanwhile, this place is pretty spectacular, isn't it? Gale: No book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice. But perhaps our stories might, when we return to the surface. devnote: Agreeing with Karlach, enjoying the sense of wonder as you explore

Gale: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Gale: Passionate, primal, capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort, or inflicting the profoundest damage. devnote: Listing the qualities of fire, Romantic, indulging in the poetry of the image Karlach: That's... pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But now I will.

Karlach: Wouldn't mind a dancing axe of my own. Gale: A simple movement charm wouldn't be too hard to apply to such an object. I could conjure one up for you if you like? Karlach: Yes! I like! Gale: Very wel then. Once the city is saved, Karlach's Kinetic Cleaver will be first on my list.

Karlach: So, Gale - got any book recommendations for me?devnote: With concern Gale: You can read?! devnote: Taking the piss - knows full well Karlach can read, and that she's always claimed not to enjoy it Karlach: Very funny. Yes - I can read. School put me off big boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing. devnote: Friendly rather than flirtatious Gale: Say no more - I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep. devnote: Jumping on the opportunity to give a book recommendation (a favourite hobby) Karlach: Ooh! Something with magic, please. And no devils.

even at his most vulnerable moments, karlach is there to support him:

before the stormshore tabernacle audience with mystra

Karlach: You can do this, Gale. And I'll be right here when you're done.

she allows herself to be protective of him and get angry on his behalf not after when it comes to mystra, but also when he is potentially kidnapped by orin:

karlach's reaction to gale being kidnapped

Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.

once again, it's a good callback to her previous line: "karlach doesn't worry, she acts. so if gale needs me, now's the time to tell me."

she's willing to be needed by him - and he does need her. whether that is as a friend, or (if you chose to play so during an origin pt) as a romantic partner. it's a lovely dynamic either way.