#she made me order a corset

[rambrandt-the-painter]

this bitch again

[rafeyswrd]

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS | PROLOGUE

benedict bridgerton x princess reader — slight anthony x reader. slight colin x reader.

series summary. the princess is in desperate need to sponsor a successful season in order for freedom to come her way. and benedict bridgerton would do anything to please her highness.

WC. 500+ | warnings. none.

A/N. so sorry for being so late :( uni is so so hectic. i’ll update every friday from now on it’s only fair!! if you have any thoughts, etc, i’d love to know! i do have some requests i’m writing rn, but i love seeing them either way. enjoy!! and remember english is my second language, please be easy with the critique 😞😞.

“It is beyond unfair how stuck in life I am despite all I own, mama.” The princess whined, her hands fiddling with the ruffle that lay beneath her waist on her dress, jaw clenched in disdain.

Queen Charlotte’s eyes rolled, a sense of annoyance creeping into her. “You do not speak to me as such, I am your Queen.”

“You are also my mother!”

Silence traced through the walls of the dining hall; Lady Danbury’s awkward coughing did nothing to lessen the tension floating between the pair. Y/N’s hands were balled into fists, and the corset entwined into her dress was suffocating her beyond means.

“All I ask for is a chance to prove myself mama,” her voice was shaky, and she was unsure if the softening of her mother’s eyes were a part of her wild imagination. “I am not glass, and if you give me a sense of freedom, I will show you so!”

It was a momentary silence that had her heartbeat escalating, the gulp emitting her throat embarrassingly loud.

“Well.” Y/N’s eyes widened, her mother’s voice stern, yet a gentle trace followed through. “You may do as you please, your nagging does no good for your voice, it is also quite infuriating.”

“Well?”

“Well, if you insist, I suppose a deal could be made.”

Lady Danbury’s brows raised, and Y/N stood up from her chair, chest heaving from her previous rant. “Which is?”

Her mother leaned back, blinking once, twice, before speaking gradually. “Sponsor the upcoming season. I need a diamond as the people expect, and a successful one at that. I cannot be deemed faulty.”

The princess shook her head in disbelief, pushing her chair back and walking closer to where her mother smugly sat. “That is, it? After years of begging, that is all I am required to do?”

“Yes,” The queen swatted her hands in the air, to where her daughter stood, “Do not make me change my mind.”

Y/N smiled, a large gleaming smile. She clapped her hands enthusiastically, a soft, un lady-like giggle escaping her in a moment of excitement. “You underestimate me, mama. You shall have a happily wed diamond by the end of the season- if not before.”

The hurried noise of her steps gradually fainted as Y/N ran out, parts of her dress bunched up between her fists. Her smile was blinding, biting her bottom lip so hard she was sure it was bruising. She could not wait to tell her maid, Lydia, of it all, completely ignoring the warning signs blaring through her head on how her mother’s acceptance has come with incredible ease. Unlike before.

Lady Danbury’s face contorted to one of confusion, staring at the queen with a hesitant expression. “Not to question your decisions, your majesty, but I cannot help but wonder why you have come to agree this time, in comparison to the others?”

Queen Charlotte’s smirk was very faintly, yet visible enough to raise concern, “Do you think of me a fool, Lady Danbury? You are to be following her every move in hopes that it does not go the way she anticipates. Her coming of age does not take away her title as my youngest child, she is far too immature to be put out there in a serious manner.”

“If my goal is to ensure that her part of the deal fails, then it is what I will do, your majesty.”

Truly, It was beyond tragic how quickly news spread, and it was only a moment of running peace before Benedict Bridgeton has come to know of the princess’ role in the upcoming season. No longer was he a man whose eyes rolled at the thought of marriage. But a man who spent his days with an erratic heart, and fantasises of her royal highness plaguing his train thoughts.

TAGLIST. @easybrainrot34 @jkshxua @pinkpantheris

[mewhenimanangel]

reporting live, paige bueckers

—synopsis. you run into paige again at the club after uconn wins the title game

notes ౨ৎ: sorry it took a month for this, i completely forgot about it!

previous ౨ৎ

it had been three days since you went to the iowa vs uconn game. today was the title game against south carolina but unfortunately you weren't assigned to report on this game.

plus, today was your birthday and you were celebrating with some friends. earlier you had gone out for breakfast and tonight you were going out.

you had the game on your tv while you and your friends were at your apartment getting ready to go out for the night. "paige is so tuff" you watched the tv as you moisturized your legs. "that should be caitlin playing i fear" devon sighed. "mad as hell" you joked.

soon the game was over, and uconn came out on top as the winners. you were so glad for them.

there were shot glasses on your coffee table with remnants of tequila and pink whitney in them. you'd been pregaming with your friends for tonight.

you got dressed into a black sleeveless corset top with a matching mini skirt and brown stiletto boots. you had to admit, the outfit left little to the imagination.

soon you and devon were ready while you waited on your friends, dani, and tristin to finish getting ready.

"can you guys hurry up?" devon scolded them. "relax we're almost ready" tristin rolled his eyes. "okay well i've got connections with the bouncer, and we need to not be late" she pointed a stern finger at him as she threw on her jacket.

after a few minutes of playful bickering, you all were ready to go.

devon got you guys into some exclusive club downtown somehow, she didn't explain the details, but you were excited.

it wasn't a long drive before you made it to the club and your spirits were high. after blasting music and taking cute, slutty pictures in the car with your friends you were excited for the rest of the night.

devon led the way to the club entrance, whispering something to the bouncer who nod his head and let you all in.

"so how exactly did you get us in here?" you asked with a smirk on your face. "you remember dylan?" she had a sly grin on her face. dylan was an old fling of hers, who just so happen to be a manager for clubs and motels. "no!" you gasped and she just nod her head.

you all followed her to sit at a booth in the corner.

after a few minutes you ordered some loaded fries  and sliders for the table, along with a bottle of tequila and shot glasses.

the alcohol was definitely pumping through your system at this point, and dani dragged you all to dance. there was some remix playing in the background while you grind your ass on dani and tristin.

"can we get another drink?!" devon leaned over to ask you. "yea sure!" you followed her through the crowd of people over to the bar.

"can i have a long island please?" devon asked the bartender. "and a vodka martini for me please!” you added.

you sat down while you waited for your drinks when devon looked past you at the door.

“oh my god there’s no way. uconn just walked in.” she said. “what, are you sure that’s them?” you followed her gaze. “are you that drunk you can’t see?” she asked you to which you just laughed.

you subconsciously looked around for the uconn player you were most concerned with, paige.

she came in behind everyone else with nika and kk. she wore a short black crop top that had her toned body on display, with baggy camouflage jeans that sit on top of a pair of jordans.

she looked so good, her hair was down with four braids in. “damn she looks good, you should go talk to her” devon smirked. you snapped your head at her “are you insane? why would i do that?”

the bartender handed you both your drinks and you thanked him. “i’m just saying, you should’ve seen the way she was looking at you when you interviewed her at the last game. eye contact was heavy, she was definitely checking you out”

“that’s called media training, you’re supposed to keep eye contact” you told her. the both of you looked over to find her again.

except this time, she was looking at you. there was a smirk on her face as she eyed you down, squinting to see you better. even from across the bar, you could feel the tension.

“oh she wants you. that was definitely checking you out” devon scoffed. you hid the smile on your face “i wonder if she even remembers me though?” you sipped on your drink. “who would forget you and from that look she definitely does”

“you don’t even know if she likes women” you reasoned.

you slowly turned to look at paige again who was now sitting at a booth with a few of her teammates, you still had a good view of her from the bar though.

she looked over at you again and you quickly turned around. “i feel like a tween with a crush right now” you giggled.

“i’m gonna go pee” you told devon. “be careful okay?” she told you and you nod your head.

you walked by paige’s booth to find the bathroom. you could feel her look at you.

when you came out of the stall to wash your hands, you dart your eyes to paige who was standing in the mirror taking a picture.

“oh hey, sorry” she moved out of your way. “no you’re good” you smiled. “i know you don’t i, you’re the pretty woman who interviewed me last week” she crossed her arms, emphasizing her biceps.

“oh yeah haha i am” you dried your hands. “why didn’t you say hi?” “was i supposed to?” you quirked your eyebrow. she hummed “did you see the game today? you weren’t there interviewing” she opened the door for you as the two of you left the bathroom.

“yeah…i took the day off cause it’s my birthday” you told her. “ohhh happy birthday” she smirked, eyes trailing over your outfit. “thank you so much” “how old are you now?”

“twenty two” she nod her head and put her hand in a shape to mimic a microphone. “well mrs..” she trailed off realizing she doesn’t know your name. you chuckled and told her.

“well mrs y/n, how do you feel being twenty two” she put an exaggerated reporter voice on. “well paige, it’s feeling pretty good. the club is bumping, the ladies look good, the alcohol is flowing” you responded in your own reporter voice, making her laugh.

“you look really nice by the way” she took the opportunity to eye fuck you again. “why thank you” you posed with your hands on the back of your hips as you did a small twirl.

“you look really good too” you took your own chance to check her out as well, not missing the smirk on her face when you did so.

“so congrats on the game, i saw you guys won”

“yeah, it’s so crazy to think i’ve come this far” she shook her head. “well that’s amazing! you guys came to celebrate?” you asked her and she nod her head. “oh, should i be letting you go back to your teammates then?..” you turned to find their table.

“nah they won’t mind, i’d rather talk to you anyways” she moved a step closer, and you tilt your head to look at her. these shoes only made you about 5’9 compared to her regular 6’0 ft frame. the dim lighting in the building cast a warm glow on her face.

“you wanna get a drink?” she nod her head towards the bar. you were a little drunk but you definitely weren’t turning down that offer “sure”

she held on to the small of your back as the two of you made your way through the crowd of people. you sat on two vacant stools and paige called the bartender over. she told him she wanted a sex on the beach before you told her you just wanted a light daiquiri.

the two of you got to talking about whatever until the conversation got a little personal. you had your leg crossed over your lap, crossing past her leg and you swore you felt her drag your stool closer.

“wait so, you do like women?” you asked her. “sorry, you don’t have to answer that” you stopped yourself. “nah it’s cool, i don’t put a label on it i just like who i like”

you couldn’t help but feel a sort of tension when she said that. as the words left her mouth her stare intensified and she looked down at your lips before back up at your eyes.

“oh okay that makes sense i guess” you nod your head. “do you…like women?” she asked you. “i do” you pursed your lips into a smirk as you continued “why?”

“do you happen to like women who are blonde and play basketball?” she smirked. you chuckled “yeah i think i do actually” you let your eyes flicker down to her lips.

she quickly handed her credit card to the bartender and grabbed your hand leading you to the exit, pressing you up against a wall outside.

“can i kiss you?” she asked you. you answered that by pressing your lips on hers and throwing your arms around her neck.

though the kiss was sloppy at first, you both fell into a rhythm as her hands held onto your waist.

paige felt a little bold and slid her hand up further, cupping the underside of your boob. you grinned “not worried someone’s gonna see us?” you broke the kiss. she shook her head no “nah it’s fine” she kissed you again.

“well, i actually have a rule. i don’t hookup with people i barely know at the club”

she looked a little defeated at that. “wanna go back to my place?” you smirked and she nod her head, grabbing your hand to lead you to her car.

[lolawritesfanfics]

The After Party

Gif by: hils79

Genre: Idol!AU, 9th member!AU, angst, smut, fluff

Pairing: Mingi x female reader, reader x OC

Word count: I honestly don't know.🤷‍♀️

Content warnings/themes: Week 2 Coachella Mingi (yes, that is a warning.), reader is the 9th and only female member of ATEEZ, reader, her female friends and most of ATEEZ are in their early 20s, jealousy, hidden mutual feelings, confessions, someone almost gets beat up by ATEEZ(minus Mingi), slut shaming(from toxic "fans" and some guy), implied female masturbation, oral(f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex(Do NOT do this in real life!😡), multiple positions, spanking, Mingi is a nasty pervert, mention of panties, nipple play, pet names(baby, bunny), let me know if I missed or misspelled anything.

Y/n's POV

"What the fuck was that?!"

Oh boy.......how did I end up in this situation?

I guess I have to start from the beginning.

We finished our Week 2 Coachella performance(which was absolutely fucking amazing.), so I decided to throw a large after party with my ATEEZ members and my female friends to celebrate.

Before we went to the after party, one of my female friends, Denise, got me to wear a really gorgeous black floral lace corset dress, where the lace showed around my abdominal area, the dress really hugged and accentuated my curves which I appreciate.

"Hey Y/n, are you ever gonna get with Mingi or what?" Denise asked. "No, I can't, Denise. Mingi is my bandmate, if that was to ever happen and the fans and public found out about us, it would ruin our careers forever. Not to mention the amount of endless hate I'll receive, hell would have to freeze over before people would stop calling me a whore and a slut for existing." I replied.

Ever since I debuted with ATEEZ as the 9th and only female member, I have always been a target of hate, especially from toxic female "fans" who would comment awful things about me such as:

"She's nothing but a cheap slut with no talent."

"I bet she slept with all the other members in order to debut."

"She only got to debut because of her looks and sex appeal."

"The whore of ATEEZ."

Another one of my female friends, Mia, facepalms and shakes her head and says "Y/n, you care way too much about people think of you, those "fans" who post those hateful comments about you are just jealous of the fact that you're in the same group as the members, especially Mingi."

"Exactly, you know you want Mingi, Y/n. I mean, you talk to us about how you want to be dicked down by Mingi all the time, so why are you not allowing yourself to be with him? Besides, you can be in a secret relationship with Mingi, the fans and the public doesn't have to know." Denise complains as Mia nods in agreement.

In their defense, I do want Mingi, so badly my body aches for his touch. I cannot count the amount of times I fantasised about Mingi, I even touched myself and made myself cum to the (im)pure thought of all the unholy, depraved things I would let Mingi do to me so many times that I'm embarassed to say it out loud.

And being in a secret relationship with Mingi would be such a good id- No, no, no and no, I cannot and will not ruin my members' reputation just because I want Mingi to myself. We made it too far to just let it all crumble down because of my feelings.

As I shake off the thoughts of being with Mingi, Iet down my hair and put on styling mousse to make it more defined, then I do a smoky eye with mascara, an wine red ombré lip, lightly spray on my Black Opium perfume, put on my black stilleto heels on and call it a night.

"Y/n, you ready? Everybody's waiting for you!!!" Denise called as Mia did a come-here gesture for me to hurry. "Yes, I'm on my way!!!" I replied as I walked out my hotel room to the after party with Denise and Mia.

"HEY Y/N!!!" The rest of my female friends, Tatiana and Simone, greeted as they pull me, Denise and Mia in for a group hug.

"Why hello ladies." Wooyoung greeted. "Hey, Wooyoung." We greeted back. "You all look gorgoeous tonight."

"Thank you, Wooyoung." We all said as we giggled due to him complimenting us.

"Wooyoung, such a shameless flatterer, is he." Simone says as she shakes her head in pure fondness.

"He sure is, anyways what the hell are we waiting for, let's celebrate for Christ's sake!!!" Tatiana cheers as we all go to party.

"Hey Wooyoung, call the rest, the party is about to start!!!" I called him.

"Will do, Y/n. Yeosang! Seonghwa! Jongho! The party's about to start!"

90s and early 2000s pop, hip hop and r&b music booms throughout nearly the entire hotel as me, my friends and bandmates Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho dance to our hearts' content in celebration of our week 2 Coachella performance. Then an hour later, Tatiana introduces me and the girls to this guy in our age range called Jason. "It's so good to finally meet you ladies, Tati told me so much about y'all, especially you, Y/n." Jason says as he gives me a lustful smirk which doesn't sit well with my friends and I, but me and Tatiana try to ignore it.

As the song Genie in the Bottle by Christina Aguilera comes to an end, Simone taps me on the shoulder and says "Y/n, if you need us for anything, we'll be at the door over there." while pointing at the door in the middle of the venue room where the party is taking place which is not too far from me.

"Ok. Thank you guys." I nod. Simone, Mia and Denise go on their way as she warns me "Be careful with that Jason guy, ok?" I nod, she smiles and follows Denise and Mia.

As the party goes on, I dance with Jason when he asks me "So how is it like with your bandmates, Y/n?" with that damn smirk. Then I reply "Oh, my bandmates are really great people to be around, especially Mingi. Throughout all the years I was with them, they always made me feel welcome, safe as if I've known them all my life." with a smile on my face at the thought of them. "Oh, is that so?" Jason tilts his head to the right with his infamous smirk and a jealous glint in his eyes, which obviously weirded me out but then again I try to ignore that.

As more early 2000s songs such as Promiscuous and Maneater by Nelly Furtado, The Way I Are by Timbaland and Gimme More by Britney Spears played throughout the party, Jason and I continue to dance together with our bodies increasingly pressing against each other, which doesn't go unnoticed not only by my female friends but with my bandmates Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa and Jongho as they looked at each other in suspicion and confusion at me and Jason. Dancing so closely against him doesn't feel right to me, however I try to ignore it in order to help myself move on from Mingi but it doesn't work.

Then Jason tucks my side bangs behind my ear to whisper softly "Can we take this to the pool?" I nod as he grabs my hand to lead me to the changing room where I changed into my glittery gold bikini while Jason changed into his swimming shorts. He then takes from the changing room to the outdoor pool with gorgeous pink and purple lights. We step into the pool, Jason grabs my waist and pulls me closer to him. "You've been really enjoying yourself, haven't you Y/n." once again with that smirk. I look down and nod with a forced smile as what Jason said isn't the truth at all in the slightest(not that he knows this, of course). Throughout the whole time I danced with him, all I could think about was Mingi and how I wished he was the one I was dancing with instead of Jason.

His notorious smirk soons fades away into a serious look on his face as he holds up my chin with his thumb and index finger to get me to look at him, he states " Y/N, I met a lot women in my lifetime and I must say, you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid my eyes on." "Really?!" I squeaked out with a stunned look on my face. Jason curtly nodded as he come even closer to me than ever before. He holds up my chin again as he turns to kiss me. My hearts starts to beat rapidly against my chest, I force myself to close my eyes as Jason leans in to kiss me.

Until I heard someone clear their throat.

My eyes shoots wide open as I turn my head to the right. To my greatest shock and horror, my heart hammers against my chest and my face goes pale as I see Mingi, face to face, with the most furious look in his face I have ever seen in all the years I've known him, with jealousy and lust in his eyes, along with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, Jongho and all my female friends looking at me and Jason, shocked beyond belief.

"Y/n, what's the meaning of all this?!! Who is this guy?!! Hongjoong exclaims, pointing at Jason, who is confused and irritated at this whole situation happening here.

" I...I..." I stutter, not knowing what to do or say.

"And why are you alone in the pool with him?" Yunho questions, with a puzzled look.

San turns to Wooyoung and exclaims "How the hell did this happen?!" while pointing at me and Jason, who is becoming increasingly annoyed.

"Oh, I'll tell you. Tatiana introduced this Jason guy to Y/N and the rest of her friends!!!" Wooyoung exclaims as he points at Jason, then at Tatiana.

"Huh?!" Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yunho exclaimed, raising their eyebrows.

"That's his name? Tch, Jason." San scoffs which really pissed off Jason as he darts his head and glares at San.

Tatiana immediately raises her hands in defense and raised her voice. "Hey, hey, hey!!! I only invited Jason to the after party and introduced him to Y/N, Mia, Simone and Denise. I didn't expect him to try kiss Y/n!"

Jason becomes more and more angry as he fumed "What the fuck is this bullshit, Tatiana?!!" glaring at her in which she becomes visibly upset at his accusatory remark.

"Hey, don't you dare frown at her, Jason." Mia warns Jason as she wags her index finger at him with a stern glare. She turns to me and questions "Also, Y/n, why the hell did you go in the pool with him in the first place?!" "Exactly." Denise added, rubbing her temples in annoyance, as Yeosang, Seonghwa, Jongho and Simone nodded in agreement.

I look around, speechless as I still don't know how to go on about this situation I found myself in.

"Y/n, I think it's best we call this party off." Seonghwa states as Hongjoong curtly nodded in agreement.

"No." Mingi says for the first time since this messy incident took place, taking everyone, including me, aback.

"You can continue with this party, I'll take Y/n with me to my hotel room so she can explain herself to me about whatever this is." Mingi says as he take off his jacket.

"Y/n." Mingi calls out my name.

"Y-yes, Mingi?" I answered with a shaky voice.

"Get out of the pool, put on my jacket and follow me to my room." Mingi says flat out.

Jason snaps when he hears this, he gets out of the pool, goes up to Mingi to bark at him " Fuck off, you asshole!!! Find your own girl, I had Y/n first!"

Mingi scoffs and sneered at Jason "You think I give a fuck about you want?"

Mingi turns to me and says "Y/n, you have two choices now, me or him?"

Everyone, especially Mia and Denise, look at me in hopes I'll pick Mingi over Jason.

I wanted Mingi to myself for such a long time so, I no longer see the point in fighting my feelings anymore.

I take in a deep breath and reply,

"You, Mingi." as I get up out of the pool and go towards him.

Jason looks at me in an unimpressed, condescending stare and has the audacity to open his decaying mouth to say to me "I actually expected a lot better from you, Y/n. But of course, what is there to expect from such a cheap slut."

"Wow." I say as I look at Jason with the utmost unimpressed expression ever.

Everyone else screamed out "WHAT?!" in absolute fury at Jason's hateful comment towards me due to me rejecting him for Mingi.

"You lowlife bastard!!!" San roars as he charges towards Jason, along with the rest of the members.

Jason, now terrified, tries to run away but ends up slipping on the concrete floor towards the end of the outdoor pool porch.

"Mingi, take Y/N to your hotel room while we deal with this bitch made loser!!!" Hongjoong shouted.

"Will do, Captain! Y/N, put on my jacket and come with me." Mingi says as I put on his jacket. He grabs my hand and leads me to his hotel room.

Author's POV

"Oh, I'll make you regret saying that about Y/n." Yunho growls as he rolls his sleeves up.

"Me too!!!" Wooyoung roars as he clenched his fists.

"And the rest of us, you son of a bitch. Get him, boys!! Seonghwa yells, all of them ready to lunge at Jason.

Jason screams "NOOOOO!!!"

However Tatiana rushes to stop them. "WAIT!!!" she yells.

"What is it now, Tatiana?!! Wooyoung growls at her with gritted teeth.

"I have a better idea on how we should deal with Jason." She says.

"And what is the idea do you have in mind, Tatiana?" Jongho questions. "Yeah, how are we sure that your idea is better, Tatiana? Yeosang added.

"Mia! Denise!" Tatiana calls with a come-here motion.

"Yes, Tatiana?" Denise replied, with a confused look on her face, along with Mia.

"Y/n talks to the both of y'all about Mingi, right?" Tatiana questioned.

'Well duh, she goes on and on about him all the time, including all the nasty shit she would allow Mingi to do to her" Mia confirmed, which made all the other ATEEZ members raise their eyebrows in shock and curiosity.

Jason becomes confused as he can't hear what everyone else is saying as they're talking in hushed tones.

"She does?!" Yeosang and Simone whisper yells in shock.

"Yep, a lot of it involves hair pulling, manhandling and multiple positions." Denise confirmed.

"Well damn, this is news to me." Yunho chuckled.

"I never knew Y/n is so naughty." San smirked. "Anyway, Tatiana, what the hell has this information got to do with your idea?" Wooyoung asked.

"In Mingi's hotel room, he and Y/n could end up having sex, so why don't we force Jason to hear them fuck?" Tatiana whispers in Wooyoung's ear.

Wooyoung gleefully smirks at Tatiana's delightfully lewd idea. " You know what, Tatiana? You're a genius." he LOVED her idea.

"So what did she say?" Hongjoong curiously asked as everyone were all ears.

"She said we should get that loser to listen to Y/N and Mingi fucking." Wooyoung confirmed with a mischievious smirk on his face.

Everyone else, even including Jongho and Simone, giggled at the dirty idea. "I'll give you credit, Tatiana, your idea is indeed better than we initially had in mind." Hongjoong stated and winked at Tatiana, which made her flustered as a result.

"Jongho! San! Carry that dork up to the area facing Mingi's hotel room door. Wooyoung! Yeosang! Get a stable chair, really good duct tape and follow Jongho and San. Seonghwa! Yunho! You both look after the ladies in the party, ok?"

"Ay, ay, Captain!" Seonghwa and Yunho replied in unison.

"Hey! Who are you calling a dork, asshole?!" Jason yelled at Hongjoong.

"Oh, shut up, you idiot." Jongho spits out as he carried the pathetic man along with San.

Y/n's POV

Mingi and I finally make it to his hotel room, he closes and locks his door as I take off his jacket and put on the hanger next to the door on the left side.

Mingi looks at me and exclaims "What the fuck was that?!".

'What was what?" I asked as I dart my eyes left and right with a puzzled look on my face.

"Don't play dumb with me, Y/n. You, in the pool with that Jason guy, that fucker trying to kiss you and you allowing him?! What the hell was that?!" Mingi seethed with jealousy, lust and desire in his feline eyes, which makes me throb with need in between my thighs.

"Mingi, I can explain!" I plead with him.

"Oh, you better explain yourself, Y/n and start explaining right goddamn now." Mingi ordered. "And I don't want to hear about what led up to whatever that was, I wanna hear WHY you were in the pool with that asshole in the first place." He added.

I take in a deep breath, clear my throat and decide to tell him the truth about everything.

"Mingi, the reason why I was in the pool with Jason is because I was trying to move on from you."

Mingi looks at me, confused and asks "What do you mean by "trying to move on from me"?"

I sigh and confirm his question "Mingi, I wanted you for a long time, I chose not to tell you because I was worried if we were together and the fans and the public found out about us, it would ruin everything we worked so hard for, not to mention how people would always attack me for ruining ATEEZ's reputation, especially yours. I felt I would be selfish and inconsiderate if I told you my feelings, Mingi."

Mingi walks closer to me and says "Y/N, look at me in my eyes." I look at him in his eyes as he lifts up my chin with his index finger.

"What if I told you...I want you to be selfish, Y/n?" Mingi purred in my ear with that deep, raspy voice of his that always makes me soaking wet.

"W-what d-do you mean?" I stutter, already trembling, feeling breathless from how seductively Mingi whispered in my ear.

"You said you want me, right Y/N?" I nod with no hesitation as his statement is true in every sense of the word. "If wanting me to fuck you senseless makes you selfish, then be selfish with me, Y/n. Because quite frankly, I don't give a fuck about what the fans or the public thinks of us, baby."

Mingi then crashes his lips against mine with a needy, desperate kiss as he pins me against the hotel door with my legs wrapped around his waist, leaving my wine red lipstick smudged, sending me into a state of bliss and ecstasy.

I knew Mingi would be a good kisser but goddamn.....he took my breath away.

As he wantonly kisses my jaw, he purrs in my ear "I'm gonna do all the nasty shit you've wanted me to do to you, all the things you said amongst your friends."

"W-what?!" I squeaked out as my eyes pop wide open, completely caught off guard by his dirty remark.

He chuckles with a lewd smirk "Oh baby, don't act so innocent with me. Did you really think I don't know how you talk about me with your friends? The amount of times you touched yourself in your dorm when you thought no one else was around?"

My cheeks burned, flustered at his confirmation.

"There's no need to be shy, Y/n. I think it's hot." Mingi coos as he cups my cheeks with his left hand.

He then kisses my neck, sucking, gently biting and leaving hickies on it, making me moan and whine as a result.

As he goes down to my chest, he takes off my bikini bra, showcasing my erect nipples.

"Goddamn, you have such gorgeous tits, Y/N." He then sucks and nibbles my left nipple. "Mingi!! Please.." I gasped. My body starts to heat up, I try to suppress my moans and whimpers by pressing my lips together as Mingi sucks on both of my nipples.

He leaves a trail of kisses from my chest to in between my inner thighs, where my arousal drips down to my legs. "I want to eat your pussy so bad." Mingi breathed out.

"Mingi!!" I cried out as he ripped my bikini panties off. "Don't worry, bunny. I'll buy you another set." I clenched around nothing at the pet name, Mingi takes notice of this. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He smirks. He then takes a view of my dripping, aching cunt, face to face. "My God, you're dripping, you have such a pretty pussy. I bet you taste so good."

He put my legs on his shoulders and latches on my throbbing clit with his wet lips, making me throw my head back against the door and nearly scream as a result.

I clutch my mouth shut, biting into my left hand, to keep my voice down as he sucks and licks my clit like a starved man, desperate moans and whimpers threatening to erupt from within me.

All of a sudden, Mingi takes his mouth away from my clit, leaving me all taken aback, confused and frustrated. "Mingi, wh-wh-why did you stop?"

"You fucking tease me by showing off on stage, touch yourself to the thought of me when no one's at the dorm, talk about all these things you want me to do to you to your friends and you hide those moans from me? Very rude of you, don't you think?"

The fucking audacity of this menace. I'm literally wet and horny all the damn time because his goddamn antics on stage, him grabbing his cock every 5 seconds, his deep, raspy ass voice that goes straight to my clit and so many other things I go on and on about, is this man for real?!

Before I even get the chance to go off at Mingi, he goes down to hungrily suck my clit, making me throw my head back against the door again and scream out loud in pleasure.

"Mingi! Please...please, pl-ease."

"Please what, Y/n?" He growls.

"Please keep going." I shakily moan.

"Then don't you dare hide those moans from me, otherwise neither of us will cum."

I quickly nodded, desperate to have my sweet release.

Mingi then continues his attack on my clit with his mouth.

My moans and whimpers start to fill up the room, I stroke his platnium blonde locks as he flicks my clit with his tongue, he moans into my throbbing bud. "My God, your pussy is so delicious, so much better than licking off your red panties."

No wonder I couldn't find my red panties anywhere in my dorm.

Perhaps, I should have been disgusted from Mingi saying this but it just made me even more needy and desperate for him.

Because of this, I drew closer and closer to my much needed orgasm, my moans becoming more high pitched and breathless.

"Mingi....baby, I'm so close, please don't stop"

"I won't stop, bunny. I promise" He breathes out as his sucks and flicks on my clit becomes much quicker and desperate.

Then I feel that oh so familiar knot in my stomach. "Oooh! Mingi, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please keep going."

My breathing become more uneven and labored, my bangs stick to my forehead in sweat as that the knot in my stomach becomes tight, so close to snapping.

"Mingi! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, ooh!"

"Cum for me, baby" Mingi says as he gives one last harsh suck on my clit, looking into my eyes with the most lustful, ravenous gaze which pushes me over the edge.

"Mingi!! MINGI!!! Mingi-i-i-i...."

I breathlessly moan out his name as I come down from my high, he greedily licks my aching cunt clean of my cum, moaning as he tastes it.

"Goddamn, baby, you taste absolutely divine, even better than I've imagined."

He gets his head out of between my thighs, my cheeks burn as I see his face covered with my juices. I use my fingers to get all my nectar off of his face, he hungrily sucks my fingers as I put inside his mouth, groaning as he relishes in my taste.

Immediately after, he crashes his lips against mine with a hungry, needy kiss, I let him inside my mouth and have reign over my tongue as he puts my legs around his waist and carries me to the bed.

He lays me down on the bed, rolls me around so my butt is facing him. He grabs and kneads my ass slowly so he can have a feel of it, soon enough, I yelp in suprise and pleasure as he slaps each cheek of my ass, sending shivers down my spine. "You have such an amazing ass, Y/n. Are you ready for my cock, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I'm ready, I need you inside of me." I enthusiastically nod as I plead for Mingi. "Get on all fours, baby, don't put your head on the mattress, bunny." He orders as I obediently comply to him.

He takes off his belt, takes his huge cock out of his pants, making my eyes pop wide open in shock and worry that it might hurt or not fit. "M-Mingi, w-would it fit?" I ask him, worried and scared. "Don't worry, bunny, I'll make it fit. I won't hurt you, I promise." Mingi reassures me, rubbing my right shoulder. He then spreads my lower cheeks apart, rubs his tip, dripping of pre-cum on my dripping entrance. "Oh my God, you're soaking wet." He moans out. Slowly and carefully, he pushes himself into me, tears prickle in my eyes at the almost painful stretch. I roll my eyes a bit and let a choked moan when he's fully inside of me. Mingi gives me time to adjust to his monster cock.

"Are you ready for me, bunny?" Mingi groans. I nod, looking at him with pleading eyes. Not even a second after that, he slams his cock into me, making me cry out as a result.

Soon enough, Mingi's thrusts becomes more hard hitting, rapid and desperate, he moans into my ear, sending chills down my spine, making me even more wet than ever now.

I yelp and whine as I feel his bulge in my stomach and how Mingi's throbbing, hard dick feels inside of me. "Baby, you feel how hard I am for you? That's how you make me feel, you have no idea what you do to me. I wanted to...nnnnggh...to fuck you like this...ssss...for a very long time...aaah." Mingi desperately moans into my ear.

That alone drove me dangerously close to my second orgasm of tonight. Our moans and whines fills up the room to the brim as Mingi's thrusts becomes sloppy and hurried. "Oooh baby, please...sss...I'm so close, I need you to cum with me...sssss...I need to cum inside you, please." Mingi begs me, so needy to have his long awaited release inside me.

Immediately, the familiar knot came very quickly tightening rapidly, ready to snap. "Oh Mingi!! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, cum with me..ooh..now."

Mingi and I yell and whimper each other's names as we cum together, feeling his hot seed inside of me while soaking him with my cream.

I scream without any hesitation, tears of pleasure fall out my eyes, leaving my mascara running as Mingi pounds straight into me, not allowing me to recover from my precious orgasm.

"Mingi! Mingi, please, please, please."

He continues his relentless pace on me, both of us wildly moaning, too lost in the entangling pleasure to care if anyone can hear us.

"Y/n, you're gonna make me cum again, I can't s-stop, I c-can't control it." Mingi needily whines.

Soon enough, when that knot in our stomachs snapped, we came again together as I collaspe with my face on the mattress.

'MINGI!!! Baby-y-y...."

"Y/N!!! Y/n...ssss...baby"

Mingi rolls me around as we recover from our highs so I can look at him, face to face.

"I'm not done with you, bunny" He reminds me as he puts my legs on his shoulders. He look at me directly with small hints of lingering jealousy, lust, passion, desire and even love(?) when he states this "I'm going to give you what no other man can give to you, ever."

Suddenly, he once again slams himself into me, making me scream out loud again as I arch my back from his immediate thrust.

Our moans and whimpers freely flow across the room as Mingi beats up my slutty cunt once again with hard hitting, rapid thrusts.

"Y/n..ssss..tell me. Can that Jason bastard fuck you better than I can, huh? Mingi grunts.

"Nnn..no, he can't." I weakly moan.

"I can't hear you." Mingi growls out as he even further sped his thrusts.

"NO, NO, NO!! He can't, he can't, he can't!" I scream and sob out of pleasure as Mingi went even faster than ever before.

"Damn fucking right, he can't. You can't get enough of me nor my dick, look at how your pussy sucks me in, baby." He grunts, pointing his chin at my pussy. I lift myself up a bit to take a look, my cheeks burned profusely at the lewd, obscene view of Mingi's cock disappearing into my cunt.

"You wanna cum for me, baby?" He moans out. I rapidly nodded. "Then look at me in my eyes while I'm splitting you open, ok bunny" I nodded once again and laid back down on the mattress.

Mingi continues his merciless pace, loudly moaning as we both look into each other's eyes. The knot in my stomach start to develop for the umpteenth time tonight.

Mingi's moans soon turn into whines and whimpers as he's close to having his release. My head is full of him fucking me into the next century when he moans out "Y/n, w-would you-fuuuuck-be mine?"

I get a bit out of my daze when he says this "Y-Yours, as in?" I whine, not completely sure of his question.

"Y/n, would you..haah..be my girlfriend?" He breathed out. This completely snaps me out of ny daze. "Yes, yes, yes!! I would be your girlfriend." I cry out of pleasure and pure happiness.

Mingi brightly smiles at me accepting his confession. "Baby, I need you to cum with me, I'm gonna cum." He whimpers.

Our whimpers becomes more desperate and high pitched as the knots in our stomach are about to snap once again.

"Oh fuck, baby, I'm cumming, cum with me at the same time." Mingi cries out.

"MINGI!!"

"Y/N!!"

We both scream and sob each other's names as we came down from our most intense orgasm ever with our foreheads touching each other.

We take a while to recover before we get up. Mingi slowly stands up to get a towel and a water bottle, he cleans me up with the towel and gives me the water bottle to drink off of. "Thank you, Mingi." I rasp as my voice is worn out from all the screaming from earlier.

"Anything for my beloved girlfriend." Mingi coos as he pecks my lips. "Goddamn, it feels so good saying that." He breathes out in pure bliss.

Suddenly we hear a strangled, muffled cry from outside Mingi's hotel room. "The fuck is that?" He questions with a puzzled look on his face as he gets up from the bed.

"Mingi, can you help me up, please? I can't feel my legs anymore." I call for him, reaching my arms out in his direction. "Alright, bunny, I'll help you up." He chuckles in fondness. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as I walk beside him towards the door.

He opens the door and tell me why do I see Jason, tied down to a chair with duct tape around his arms, legs and mouth, with his swimming shorts on?!

Jason rocks side to side on the chair, muffled cried come out of him with a traumatised look on his face.

"What the fuck is Jason doing here?!" I exclaim, all bewildered by what's in front of me.

I hear giggles on right side of the corridor, me and Mingi go outside of his room to see Wooyoung and Tatiana snickering with their hands over their mouths.

"Which one of you came up with this?" I ask them, pointing at the mortfied man tied on the chair.

"Her idea." Wooyoung replies, pointing at Tatiana, leaving Mingi and I pleasantly suprised. "I thought it would be a good idea to get back at him for calling you a slut when you rejected him, Y/n" Tatiana smirks, shrugging her shoulders. "It certainly was, thank you, Tatiana." Mingi replies.

He then turns to Jason, still feeling humiliated after what happened (as he should be.) and fiercely glares at him. "You better know your fucking place, you asshole." He growls, still furious at Jason's verbal attack towards me from hours earlier. Terrified out of his mind, he rapidly nodded his head, shaking in his chair.

"Let's get going, baby" Mingi says as we walk down to the after party.

"See, I told y'all Mingi and Y/n would end up having sex, I mean, look at her makeup!" Tatiana giggles, pointing my face.

"Oh man, Tati's not lying, Y/n's lipstick is all smudged." San chuckles.

"And her mascara is all over her cheeks." Wooyoung snickers.

"She really looks like she's been fucked." Yeosang grins as the rest laugh while examining my face.

"Hey! Cut my girlfriend some slack, will ya?" Mingi replies in my defense, making everyone else stop dead in their heels and snap their heads in his direction, completely taken aback by what he said.

"Girlfriend?!" The Ateez members yells out in pure shock.

"Mingi......repeat what you just said." Denise says, stunned, as she and the rest of the girls come closer to us.

"Y/n is my girlfriend, we're a couple." Mingi confirms.

"Oh Hallelujah! The Lord has answered my prayers!" Denise shouts in pure delight as she raises her hands in the air.

"Well motherfucking finally! Took y'all long enough." Mia added.

"I'm so happy for the both of you." Simone beamed at the great news.

"LET'S CELEBRATE!" Tatiana cheers as she calls the Dj to turn up the music.

I smile ear to ear in pure, unadulterated joy, Mingi looks at me into my eyes with genuine love, he holds my chin to pull me into a loving, passionate kiss as the music plays in the background.

At this point, I don't care if I'm called the most deplorable of names anymore due to being the only female member or Mingi's significant other because I have him, the members, the rest of my friends and that's all that matters.

Happy (belated) birthday to @almightyddeonghwa and @callmeghostly!!!

Taglist: @jeon-ify, @ja3honey, @bunnliix , @itsnotmydejavu , @yourfatherlucifer , @holybibly , @beenbaanbuun , @whatudowhennooneseesyou , @shinestarhwaa

[velocesainz]

Can you do a corset and barrete where Luke Castellan makes a bet on with possible light angst when you find out

A/n: Thank you for your order! Hope you like it

Empty feelings

Percy Jackson masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Luke’s friends make a bet on who will get reader into their bed first. Luke wins the bet but also soon falls in love with you. You later on find out about the bet. How will this affect your relationship?

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite! reader

Warnings: smut, mdni, angst with a fluffy ending

Order receipt:

Barrette: Bet

Corset: Oh you don’t think it’ll fit? Cute. I’ll make it fit.

Luke pov:

I was at a bonfire with some of my friends as we drank alcohol and joked around

We were now rating all the girls from the Aphrodite cabin for some good reason

Now I had a crush on a girl from the Aphrodite cabin. Y/n.

She was effortlessly beautiful, funny and caring

All the guys here liked her. She was absolutely gorgeous, how could anyone not like her?

“Whoever gets y/n into their bed wins 10 golden drachmas” Conner announced

Everyone looked at eachother with determination in their eyes but boy were they all going to eat dust.

I watched from afar as the guys slowly floated over to y/ns side. She seemed shocked at the sheer number of guys who weee suddenly interested in her.

But the thing was I was her friend and I knew she felt safe in my arms so when I reached her side she immediately came over and hugged me.

“I don’t know what’s going on Luke! All these guys are suddenly here by my side flirting shamelessly”

I smirked

“Why don’t we head into my cabin then? Away from all the prying eyes”

I said staring over at my group who had looks of bewilderment and jealously written all over their face as they saw y/n cling to me

“That sounds amazing thank you so much Luke!”

I brought her into my cabin and onto my bunk

We stared at eachother for a while not knowing what to say.

Impulsively I decided to kiss her. It was now or never

To my surprise she started to kiss back with the same passion as I did.

The kids got heated and we started taking off eachothers clothes and soon she was pinned underneath me as I took off my boxers

Reader pov:

Luke removed his boxers to reveal his thick fat cock.

I really didn’t know how that was going to fit inside me. He was ginormous

“L-Luke I don’t think that’s going to fit inside me”

“Oh you don’t think it’ll fit? Cute. I’ll make it fit” he said in a demanding voice

He pushed inside of me slowly letting me adjust to his size

He started thrusting inside which started out as extremely painful but was now morphed into immense pleasure

“Oh god your pussy is so tight and perfect for me. God I should’ve done this much earlier” Luke said as he increased his pace

He thrusted and thrusted and I was approaching my climax and so I babbled out with all the sense I had left

“G-gonna c-cum”

“Cum for me darling cum cum with me”

After a violent release that left my entire body shaking Luke pulled out and tucked us both into bed drifting into a deep sleep

Timeskip:

Me and Luke have been dating for a few months now and it’s been going amazing.

He is literally the best boyfriend I could’ve ever asked for

I was going to meet Luke at the arena and made my way down until I heard them speak and my name popped up in their conversation

I hid behind a tree and eavesdropped in their conversation

“It’s literally no fair that you get to bag the hottest girl in all of camp!”

“And to think she wouldn’t have been yours if it wasn’t for that bet!”

A bet? Was that all I was?

A bet. It was all to make Luke’s pockets heavier and inflate his ego.

How could he do this to me? I thought we had something special.

I got out from behind the tree and walked towards their group

“Hey babe how-“

“All I was to you was a bet?”

“Y-you heard that?”

“Of course I did castellan. Now tell me. All I was to you was a bet?”

“No babe it’s not like that I promise”

By this time all of Luke’s friends had cleared out and it was just the two of us in the arena.

“Then explain yourself. What is it like?”

“The boys and I were drunk and we were just playing games and having fun. I swear I had liked you before the bet.

The bet was whoever could get you into their bed first would win 10 golden drachmas. Now I know it’s wrong but this bet gave me the courage to come and talk to which i probably never would have. I truly love to the moon and back y/n. I’m really sorry, I know what I did is unforgivable but I really hope you can forgive me.”

I saw the sincerity in his eyes as he tried to explain himself.

I was in love with Luke and this confession just led me to love him more

“It’s ok Luke. I forgive you. But don’t do anything remotely similar to this ever again.” I warned

“Never in my entire life babe”

He ran towards me and swooped in for a tight hug.

We stood there in each others embrace just enjoying the warmth radiating from the two of us.

Everything was going to be ok.

A/n: hello lovelies! Hope you enjoyed this fic. The amount of support I’ve gotten over the past week and the new followers and requests is crazy. I’m incredibly grateful for all of you who read and like my silly stories <3.

As always make sure to leave you feedback Kissies ✨

[nanamiscocksleeve]

A Sheath for a Sword

Warnings: MDNI, Crack fic, crude language, PIV sex, dirty talking, slight foursome A/N: This isn't an actual WIP, I just got a silly idea and wrote it out. Hardly took any time at all. Kind of a Victorian era goofy, crack fic. Not in y/n format, just felt right doing it in third person. Not proofread. Image credit Masson on Shutterstock

A young woman is crawling weakly through a field. The feeling of thirst claws at her body. It's been 3 months since she's had cock. 3 whole months and she's starving.

In a desperate bid to satisfy her hunger, she left her village, only to be overcome by her own weaknesses now on her knees, crying out in desperation.

"Cock...a bit of cock...anyone please...so thirsty..." Her labored movements drain her of the little energy she had, and she rests her head on the grass, panting, feeling her body succumbing to her basic needs. So this is how it ends, she thinks to herself. With a dry cunt and no prospects in sight.

She feels her thoughts becoming less cohesive, eyes becoming heavy and breathing shallow. She closes her eyes and waits for her ultimate end.

Unbeknownst to her, a merry order of knights were nearby and they had heard her pathetic cries of thirst. They march towards her aid, a trio of tall, strapping, gentlemen.

"The poor thing," murmurs Sir Geto The Long.

"Indeed," agrees Sir Gojo The Strong.

"I hope she'll recover," says Sir Nanami The Dauntless.

"Let's rouse her and see how she responds." Sir Geto rolls her onto her back and begins to pull up the various layers of skirts beneath her dress before he finally reaches the small strip of linen covering her pussy. He pulls it off and gasps in shock.

"I do say...look at it's state!"

Sir Gojo and Sir Nanami gather closer to see and they almost gasp in horror.

"I've never seen a cunt so dry!"

"Poor thing must be starving."

"She might have come from one of those old villages, the ones that took all the young men off to war!"

"She has traveled great lengths and gone without. We should put in our best efforts to revive her."

Sir Geto nods, gathering saliva onto his tongue. "I shall give it my best hawk tuah." With that, he brings as much as he can onto the dried pussy lips, spreading it onto her parched folds to offer relief.

The woman stirs, feeling something pleasantly lapping at her cunt, then shivers as her corset is undone and removed along with her chemise. Her eyes open a fraction, then she gasps as she sees two handsome men suckling on her titties, her poor, deprived titties, which would have been as dry as her cunt had it not been for the help of the salve the apothecary had made for her.

She clears her throat to get their attention. Sir Gojo releases her nipple, looking at her in apology.

"I'm sorry my lady, I hope you don't mind. You did look like you were in need of aid."

"I was. was looking for relief and must have passed out in the field." She gasps as she feels a tug on the womanly pearl between her legs. "Oh my! When I started on this journey, I was hoping to find at least one man to fill my venus cavern. I was never expecting 3! May I know your names, kind sirs?"

"Sir Gojo Satoru the strong." The white-haired knight introduces himself.

Nanami who had been licking her nipple this whole time lets go with a wet pop. "And I am Sir Nanami Kento The Dauntless."

"Dauntless?"

"He never backs down from anything. Never met a dame he hasn't satisfied, no matter how difficult she might be. Leaves the wildcats purring like house kittens by the time he's done!" Sir Gojo explains with a bark of laughter.

"And the chivalrous man between your legs restoring moisture to your cunt is Sir Geto The Long." Sir Gojo points the covered shape between her legs.

"Oh...long indeed, I can feel his tongue covering me all the way from the rosebud to the kitty cave!" she giggles and sighs as she feels her thirst ebbing away.

"That's not the only reason we call him that. You'll find out soon enough."

"Are you comfortable with us providing you with this assistance in a field my lady? We had no chance to ask since your condition was dire and you were unconscious. Would you prefer a room and a bed?" Sir Nanami asks as he tweaks her nipple with his calloused fingertips.

"Oh lord, no," she chuckles. "Outside is fine it's thrilling actually."

"Excellent! Well, we shall carry on. Please do not hesitate to cry out in pleasure when you have been thoroughly satisfied."

The woman lays back and lets them lick all her unused parts, feeling strength and vitality flowing back into her body with each flick and tickle. Sir Geto was doing an excellent job of bringing her withered petals back into health and she felt her moisture cavern growing even more wet in preparation for a meat sausage.

She cries out as her first orgasm in three months hits her, the noise echoing across the empty field, and Sir Geto emerges from underneath her clothes, grinning. She blushes as she sees his face, just as handsome as the other two that had been playing with her teats.

"I think I brought it back to life," sir Geto says confidently. "Would you like me to fill your glistening glove of love? Or would you prefer someone else?"

She considers, then admits. "I want Sir Gojo The Strong to break my abstinence."

"Yes my lady," Sir Gojo says with a grin. "Let me fuck thy fair maiden. And bring unto her a climax." With that he flips her back onto her hands and knees and begins to undo his armor. She makes small talk with the other 2 knights since removing armor single-handedly is no easy task. Sir Nanami and Sir Geto take turns lapping at her cave of wonders and pulling her breast pebbles to keep her moistened.

"In short, I thought I was going to die without ever experiencing cock again!" she was saying by the time Sir Gojo finished undressing.

"Quite fascinating my lady," he says, grabbing her hips and positioning them, before pushing his impressive flesh sword into her meat sandwich. She moans like a cat in heat, the exquisite feeling of cock filling her being. It was like being reborn, his erection bringing life back to her starved pussy like rain onto a drought-wrecked farm.

She groans and moans and giggles and sighs, enjoying the fucking of her pussy. "I would so enjoy a cock in my mouth as well sirs," she says looking at Sir Geto and Sir Nanami who begin to remove their own armor. Her eyes widen as she sees their forms.

"Now I understand why you're Sir Geto The Long," she says, measuring his dick with her fingers. "And Sir Nanami! Dauntless indeed! I would be too with that kind of sausage!" she looks at the veiny, glorious, monster cock on Sir Nanami's body.

"Well, feed me gentlemen."

Sir Nanami lets her taste him first, and she sucks him with enthusiasm, feeling her body grow stronger. Sir Geto plays with her nipples as he waits for one of her holes to get free. It takes quite an effort but she manages to get Sir Nanami to a climax, the salty cream from his cock sliding down her throat, an elixir to all her problems. At the same time, Sir Gojo also blesses her wet cunt with his cum, adding much-needed substances to her previously decrepit pussy.

Without wasting time, Sir Geto plunges into her as soon as Sir Gojo is finished. Cross-eyed and happier than she'd been in 3 months, the woman pants, tongue hanging out of her mouth in ecstasy.

"People talked about dry spells before. I thought they were lying. I thought it couldn't possibly be this bad," she explains between each gasp of air.

"Oh no, dry spells are not to be taken lightly. In fact, during the last one, they designated fuck bucks - young men with good vigor, to serve the women during the last war. But the crown's budget has become restricted with this war so they were unable to procure any fuckable men." Sir Nanami explains as he and Sir Gojo help each other with their armor, waiting for Sir Geto to finish.

Sir Geto growls like an animal, then plays with her clit, bringing her to her third orgasm and gives her another generous helping of seed to restore her parched lands.

She sighs in satisfaction. "Thank you Sirs. I really may have died here today."

"Tis no trouble at all my lady." They help her dress. "Would you like to come with us?"

"With you? Where?"

"We take our own quests and wander the lands keeping peace. Surely, you do not wish to go back to your cock deprived village?"

The woman considers, then shakes her head at the horrible prospect. "Indeed, no."

"Then ride with us. We will keep your cunt full, your belly fed, and your tits well suckled. Once our questing has ended you may wed us even."

"Wed? All of you?" The woman looks thrilled at the thought.

"Yes. All 3 of us. If it please you."

"It does!" She goes over to Sir Nanami who helps her onto his horse.

"Then off we go. For more adventures to cum!"

And they all ride away into the sunset.

THE END

@Aether-seawolf @Actuallysaiyan @Makingtimemine @snwvie

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[ja3yun]

The Moon That Sometimes Shines | L.HS (TSTAB Alt. Scene)

lee heeseung x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), fingering, dirty talk, choking, pet names (baby girl, angel), alcohol, slight exhibitionism, if I missed anything lmk!

wc: 3.6k

synopsis: after seeing your ex-lover jaeyun and his fiance being close to one another, heeseung offers you a much needed distraction.

a/n: i accidentally deleted the original post so here I am at 3am re-uploading it :( anyway like i said the first time, this is part of the tstab series original plotline before i changed it but can be read as a stand-alone one-shot since this is an alternative scene.

tstab masterlist

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly. 

“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.

Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.

After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20. 

Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so fucking good, angel. If there wasn’t such a thing as bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lace detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.

Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned.

The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications. 

The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturdays when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.

Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.

Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two Baby Guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.

“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”

“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom. 

“I don’t know,” Of course, Heeseung was attractive, even more attractive now than 4 years ago. His perfect nose, attractive side profile, and when he smirked…god when he smirked. But could you truly do that to Jaeyun? 

Your drinks are now in front of you both, “Come on, let’s dance.”

One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.

Everyone was enjoying themselves and as your eyes land on Yeoreum and Jaeyun, you realise just how much fun they’re having.

Jaeyun’s hand is caressing her thigh, his tongue lapping up her mouth, and her tits are pressing into his chest. If you were closer you swear you could hear them moaning.

It’s hard to watch, your true love tangled in someone else, but that’s reality now.

Your view is obstructed by a broad chest clad in a loose My Chemical Romance t-shirt. Heeseung.

“What did I tell you about only focusing on me, baby girl?” His hands find home on your waistline and pinch them slightly to get you to look up at him.

“It’s hard, Hee” You confess, eyes glazed from the alcohol and forming tears. It was pathetic how upset you got over Jaeyun and Yeoreum considering you were the reason they found each other. If you hadn't left it would be your mouth smothering him with kisses.

Heeseung’s hands soothe over your hips, applying pressure the closer he gets to your ass. “I know, angel. It’s so hard to see someone you love with someone else.”

His eyes are staring deep into yours as if he’s confessing something to you. 

What you don’t know is that back in school Heeseung was infatuated by you. The way you spoke, the way you laughed, the way you kissed. Whenever you kissed Jaeyun he would see how your tongue would move with his best friends and wish, no, pray that it was his just once.

He didn’t want forever, he just wanted once.

Once just so he could taste you. Heeseung knew you would always belong to his best friend, there was no doubt. Even back in the day he wouldn’t ever come between you. 

But it isn’t like those days anymore. You aren’t Jaeyun’s and Jaeyun isn’t yours. 

Obviously, he felt guilty for even conjuring up such an image of you and him but as you stare up, eyes glistening and hazed he can’t help but push the guilt to the back of his mind. 

“Angel, only look at me from now on, okay?” He shouts it loud enough for you to hear over the club music. 

Is it just you or have his lips gotten bigger over the last few years? 

“Something on my face, Y/N?” 

Oh. You’re staring at him. Yet you can’t stop. His smirk is spiraling you into a tizzy, his tongue poking just enough to lick his bottom lip. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you want to kiss him. Really badly want to kiss him.

Instead of responding, you lift your hands to his chest, splaying them over each of his pecks. He’s so toned under the t-shirt you can’t help but squeeze subtlety.

Bringing his lips down to your ear he whispers, “Want a distraction, baby girl?” 

God yes

Heeseung’s breath is hot in your ear and the wetness of his lips is just barely touching your lobe. It’s driving you crazy. But…Jaeyun.

“What abou-”

He cuts you short when his teeth nibble the shell of your ear before he speaks, “Shhh. Told you I would help you this week didn’t I?” You can feel his smile widen as his lips ghost down your neck.

Shutting your eyes you try to focus on your breathing. Is it wrong to indulge in this? Jaeyun is over there with his fiance kissing and touching her, so why do you feel guilty for wanting to do the same with Heeseung? 

Because it’s his best friend you say to yourself.

“C’mon, Y/N. I’m sure if I touched your pretty cunt right now I’d feel how much you want me.” There’s a stir in your stomach as he utters the words into the base of your neck.

Honestly, until now your brain had been so wrapped up in overthinking you hadn’t noticed how wet you had gotten. Somehow from the moment he touched your hips, your pussy pulsed, wishing his hands and mouth were all over it. 

Heeseung’s head lifts and his eyes look into yours just like before, this time they’re filled with desire. He’s begging for the green light, the okay go, to prove his theory right.

And you give him it.

You allow him to touch you somewhere he has been dreaming about for years with a single nod. Sneakily, his hand reaches down and his middle finger runs over your soaked underwear. You bite your lip as he applies some added pressure to your clit. 

“I was right, baby girl.” His arrogance in this situation is only adding fuel to your fire, “You’re fucking soaking. Is it all for me?” 

You can’t look him in the eye out of sheer embarrassment because how did he get you so worked up like this so quickly? The only other person that has been able to do this is Jaeyun.

Leaning down so his lips hover over yours you can tell he’s holding back from kissing you despite his finger literally sitting atop your clit. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” It comes out breathy and needy. “For you.”

Heeseung closes his eyes. There is no going back if he kisses you right now and he knows it. “Tell me to kiss you.” His eyes don’t open but the way his hand massages your cunt you can tell he’s desperate, “Please, baby girl.” 

Instead of words, you reach up to kiss him and let go of all inhibitions. Your actions cause Heeseung’s hand to move away from your vagina and back to gripping your hips firmly.

He inhales deeply while he kisses you like he is trying to use all his senses. Tasting you, hearing you, touching you, he is taking you all in. The only thing he wasn’t doing was looking at you, his eyes shut from the pleasure but he knows how you look because every time you kissed Jaeyun he memorised every detail of your face.

Heeseung’s hands grabbed your ass and you moaned from your throat while his lips still attacked yours, the noise sounds like music to his ears and it just makes him more eager to keep going. The alcohol running through his veins pushes him to his next action.

“Jump.” He instructs and you obey, jumping so you can wrap your legs around his waist. Even the feeling of you like this was heaven to him. He genuinely wished he could have gotten to you first all those years ago but he’ll settle for right now. “You listen to me so well,” Heeseung whispers against your lips and that’s when he sees you’re too far gone with lust to even care what he’s saying. Your kisses get more needy as he carries you to the back of the club.

The on-lookers have faces of disgust as you practically dry hump Heeseung all the way to a dark area in the club but you don’t care, you don’t even notice because all you can focus on is the aching radiating from your core and how his mouth molds perfectly to yours.

“Fuck, angel, you don’t even give a shit if people watch, hmm?” He’s mocking you and all you can do is whimper and ask for more. 

Perching you up on a shallow shelf-like surface attached to the back wall you instantly spread your legs open and he slots himself in between, deepening the kiss. Heeseung’s 6” stature towers over you even when you’re sat on a high surface. He always loved how small you looked when you stood next to him.

His left hand is now lost in your hair making a mess of your once neat curls and his right was keeping you steady on the ledge. Pulling away he looks at your state, “You look so fucked out and I haven’t even started yet, baby girl.” Your skirt has turned into a belt due to it bunching up, leaving your whole bottom half exposed. Well almost. Your thin white panties are the only thing keeping you decent, and Heeseung needs them gone. 

Luckily, the club is so dark and no one can see your uncovered core as Heeseung yanks them down your legs and holds it in front of you with one finger. “I can keep these, yeah?” Before you can answer he’s shoving them in his pocket. In the morning you would be mad because they’re your favourite pair, but right now you couldn’t care less. 

Just like before his middle finger glides in between your folds collecting your juices but as fast as his digit was on you, it was off again, bringing it to his mouth and sucking on it. You can’t properly see his face but you can see how his eyes roll back, “I would eat your little pussy so good if it wasn’t so obvious what I was doing.” He didn’t mind people watching but if he could avoid it he would, and being on his knees with his face buried between your thighs would certainly draw attention. 

“Hee,” Your voice is a whisper but he just hears it and leans down, “Please make me forget.”

Ah. Jaeyun. He almost forgot that’s why you agreed to let him do this. To distract you from his best friend and your broken heart. Guilt and a little something else fill Heeseung’s heart but he quickly pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind when your hand is palming his cock. 

Throwing his head back exposes his adam’s apple and quick as lightening your mouth is on it, kissing it softly. “Jesus fuck, Y/N.” He huffs and his hands push you away, leaving you confused. “I need to touch you, baby girl, I gotta hear those sweet moans, or else I’ll go crazy.” Granted, he’s going to go crazy either way, whether it was from you touching him or him touching you, but he is aware he probably doesn’t have a lot of time and he can’t let this opportunity to make you cum slip from him. “Be good for me angel.” 

One single kiss on your forehead and then he’s giving you what you want. Two of his fingers are teasing your entrance, rubbing circles gently around it. “Can you take the two of them or want me to start with one?” Heeseung might have been clouded by desire but he also wants you to be comfortable, not pushing you too far. 

“I can take it.” You don’t care if you actually can’t, you just need to feel something.

“Of course you can, baby girl. You’re so good.” His words of affirmation are similar yet different to Jaeyun’s. He’s more firm with his words than your ex-lover, like he’s making you think you’re taking the lead but in actual fact, he’s always in charge. “Going to let me make you feel good? Forget about him?”  All you can do is nod and crane your neck up to kiss him but he pulls away and raises his eyebrows, “Not going to ask? After I’ve been so kind to ask you if I can touch you?”

All while he’s speaking down to you, his fingers are still teasing your entrance. He doesn’t stop, that is another difference between Jaeyun and him. When Jaeyun teased you he would stop altogether and have you mewling for him to go back to what he was doing. But Heeseung knows it pays to play the long game, give you a constant taste of what he could offer, and make you beg for something you were already getting. It got him off so much to know his partners needed not what he could give them, but what more he could do to satisfy them. 

“C-can I kiss you.” 

“Yes, you can, angel.” And then without a breath, you’re kissing him, his fingers keeping their circular motions at an agonising pace. “How hard was it to ask, hmm?” He smirks and you could slap him for being so hot and annoying all at once if you weren’t so desperate.

You go to speak but moan instead as he puts some pressure down below, “Huh? You want to ask for something else, angel?” He didn’t have time to be doing this but it was so fun to watch you like this. 

“Can you..” This is so embarrassing. When was the last time you asked for someone to finger you? “Can you fuck me…with your fingers?”

“Would be my pleasure, baby girl.” His middle and ring fingers slip inside you with a little effort, “Jesus, angel, how long has it been since someone fucked you?”

“4 months.” Not that you were counting but it was 4 months and 3 days. If you knew the time right now you could probably pinpoint the exact hours and minutes too. You were so busy with finals for Uni and work you didn’t have the time to indulge in your needs. That was probably why Heeseung was having such an effect on you.

Probably just because it was Heeseung in general.

He’s fucking you open, stretching you out so good you can’t help but grab his band t-shirt for more stability. “Hold my shoulders, it’ll be better.” It’s like you’re his lap dog the way you just follow all his instructions. You mumble an ‘okay’ and grip his shoulders tight. Once he feels you get more secure, he goes harder.

Almost like he is trying to feel every inch of your insides his fingertips pushing hard against your upper walls, just how you like it. As he feels your forehead resting against his chest he knows he’s got you. “You like it when I fuck you like this with my fingers?” and you nod, but that’s not what he’s looking for. His free hand grabs your jaw and forcefully lifts your head to look at him, “You know I need to hear you.” God, he is so hot. 

“I love it, Heeseung.” Your winded words make him smug. 

“You want to ask for anything else?” The grip on your jaw loosens and the back of his hand and fingers glide smoothly over your neck. Again here he is making it seem like you’re in control but you know exactly what he wants, “Anything at all?” 

You almost can’t get the words out because he’s curling his fingers deep inside you, “Ch-”

“I’m sorry, baby girl I didn’t catch that?” He’s so self-satisfied with himself that he's getting everything he ever wanted. 

“Choke me.” 

And just like that his strong hand is wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough. Heeseung knows the test the waters of your limits but honestly, you don’t have any, none that you know of anyway. 

Heeseung’s hands feel different from Jaeyun’s, stronger, just like his words. The tightness of his hand cutting off your airways makes your eyes roll back and spine arch. “So beautiful, angel.” 

The sweet words leaving his mouth don’t match up to his tight grip. Your head hits the wall sharply as he pushes you back but it only adds to the sensation of pleasure you’re feeling. 

“Hee, m’gonna cum.” It’s not so much a warning because you’re cumming around his fingers. His digits hammer into you, the muscle in his arm ripples as he gives you all he has. Heeseung wants you to remember this he’s going hard and cutting off your air. 

You’re such a beautiful sight.

“Doing so well for me, angel.” His pink glossy lips replace his hand on your throat as he kisses you where he knows there will be bruises. “So fucking beautiful.”

As your chest heaves and lungs gasp for air, you realise this is the first time you haven’t thought about Jaeyun. Mission accomplished, you suppose.

“Heeseung?” 

“Yeah, pretty?” His hand retreats from your pussy as he stands back up to loom over you again.

“Thank you.” Biting your lip you want to say more but you don’t exactly know what to say. 

His fingers tap your mouth, indicating for you to open it and you answer his silent command and open wide. The next thing you know he’s shoving his fingers into your mouth and you taste yourself. This is a new experience for you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it and hope it isn’t the last time you’re sucking your cum off someone’s fingers. And if it happened to be Heeseung again, you definitely wouldn’t say no. 

“Remember this whenever you think about him.” He starts staring deep into your eyes, “And if you ever need a refresher, you know what room I’m in.”

[copper-16]

did she feel better than me?

A continuation/parallel of girlgenius1111's work titled "do you want my attention?"

Mapi makes the decision to rile Ingrid up with the help of Alexia's girlfriend. And she gets exactly what she wants...in due time.

(a/n: My brain simply couldn’t get out of its head what Mapi and Ingrid did after Alexia and r left the club, so I reached out to girlgenius1111 and got permission to write about the same story but from Ingrid and Mapi’s perspective! Please, please go read their fic first mostly because it is phenomenal and also a little bit because this will make more sense if you have read that first - I have it linked at the bottom of this!

This is literally eight thousand words of sex. I'm normally a pretty vanilla person (nothing wrong with that yk just personal preference!) so this isn’t the spiciest or craziest thing in the world by any means, but it's still spice and not much else.

Also I couldn't make up my mind about who would be more possessive over who so this is giving major switch energy...I plead the fifth I'm indecisive!)

The thing was that the last few weeks had been hectic, to say the least. The schedule for Barcelona was packed with league matches combined with Champions League games to be played, and then for Ingrid, national team camp only added to that already frantic schedule. 

But Mapi was still not playing for her national team, which meant that she had been left with two weeks to herself before Ingrid had gotten home that Sunday, just a few nights ago. 

Two weeks to miss Ingrid. 

Two weeks to miss…certain things about her. Two weeks of waking up alone and going to bed by herself, left with far too much time to imagine exactly all the ways she wanted the Norwegian. 

Mapi wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was getting a little bit desperate. It had been weeks since they had done anything really, and this past week she could feel herself getting wet just when the Norwegian looked at her a little hard while they were with the team. 

The week leading up to their Friday game was a lot, with a Champions League game on Tuesday and added practices considering that they had the upcoming weekend off. Ingrid had arrived back from Oslo late on Sunday night, and with the chaos of the schedule, they hadn’t had time to do anything other than a hot makeout session before leaving for training one morning, which had left Mapi more wrecked and wet than she cared to admit. 

Between herself and the other girls on the team, they managed to wear Alexia and the captains down to the point where they all agreed to go out to the club after the Friday game. It was a surprising move from the Barcelona captain, but when she takes one look at her girlfriend’s outfit, at the way her eyes paused at the lace covered chest, at the way it pulled across taut and supple skin, all of the girls can’t help but smirk in understanding at one another. 

Mapi had dressed the part as well, knowing exactly what she wanted to come out of this night. She had days, weeks really, to come up with the perfect plan, and she wasn’t going to let this night go to waste without completing it. She had on black leather pants that she knew made her ass look good, and a maroon corset top cinched over her chest. 

Ingrid was wearing a sapphire colored crop top coupled with a pair of black jeans that Mapi couldn’t stop staring at as they walked into the club. But she needed to focus, she had a plan to complete and it wasn’t Ingrid who needed to agree to it in order for it to work. No sooner had they made it through the door than the defender was pulling their teammate toward the bar, Ingrid and Alexia watching their respective girlfriends go with raised eyebrows, already slightly suspicious. 

But the two taller women say nothing, getting a table before they all order their drinks. Ingrid can’t help but look surprised when Alexia orders a gin and tonic, after the Norwegian had rattled off her request for a negroni. 

“Drinking tonight, Ale?” The dark haired midfielder asked, clearly more than a little amused. But Alexia just scowled, her gaze not meeting Ingrid’s, but rather still trained toward the bar, where Mapi and her girlfriend were standing, clearly in conversation. 

“I feel like the night calls for it,” Alexia murmured carefully as the two Barcelona players turn back toward the table where their partners are, both of their girlfriends greeting them warmly. 

The two women stand at the table for maybe thirty seconds before they are headed toward the dance floor, a pair of hazel and green eyes tracking their every move. Caro and Patri could only watch in complete amusement as Alexia and Ingrid don’t even bother to try conversing anymore, simply too enamored with their respective girlfriend to care about trying to seem civilized. None of the women at the table are dancers per say, but the two midfielders are staring at their girlfriends like they might be considering it, given how aggressively their eyes are tracking the women.   

Alexia, surprisingly, seemed to have less restraint than Ingrid for once, the Spaniards hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles were beginning to turn white. When her girlfriend turned toward her, her ass pressed back into Mapi, the captain shakes her head slightly, but she only receives a nod that looks suspiciously like a smile in response. 

Ingrid was slightly more composed than her fellow midfielder, but it still wasn’t hard to spot the fact that she was staring at Mapi, her gaze intent. The club was busy, and it was a gay club, so to say that the two dancers had eyes on them would have been an understatement, but they only had eyes for their respective partner, too busy trying to make them jealous to notice the abundance of women watching them. 

It’s when Mapi’s hand reaches around to practically palm at her teammate's chest as she turns her head into her hair to speak to her in such an intimate way that Alexia finally snaps, Ingrid right along with her. In reality, the top of her thumb only made it far enough up to graze at the underside of her chest, but that feels like semantics to the Barcelona midfielders right now. 

“Come to dance?” Alexia is asked by her girlfriend as she presses into their space, and the blonde looks nearly murderous. Ingrid isn’t really paying attention to them though, far too focused on letting her eyes rove up and down Maria, who is pointedly choosing not to look at her in favor of the discussion, or rather lack thereof, that is happening in front of them. 

“I think we’ve had enough dancing,” the Spaniard grits out as she pulls her girlfriend flush with her side, not even bothering with a goodbye before the two are moving through the club, leaving the Spaniard and Norwegian alone. 

It’s only at this point that Mapi finally lets her eyes meet Ingrid, and she can’t help but bite her lip to force back a whimper at the look that Ingrid is giving her, at the intensity of it. She entirely misses the way that a triumphant smile is thrown back at her by her teammate, clearly thrilled that their plan has worked, in favor of holding Ingrid’s green eyes, which could only be described as smoldering. 

She was completely entranced, didn’t even care about the fact that everyone around them was dancing, can’t do anything but hold Ingrid’s gaze, can’t tear her eyes away from the green ones watching her so closely. 

It’s only when Ingrid looks away, clearing her throat lightly that Mapi feels herself suck in a breath, unaware that she had even been holding it to begin with. 

“Dance?” Ingrid asks lightly, her tone too innocent and unassuming given the circumstances. It honestly throws the defender for a loop, but she chooses to follow along. She expected for Ingrid to get possessive in the way that Alexia had, but it’s clear that the Norwegian is playing a bit longer of a game then the blonde captain had been able to manage. 

“Sure,” Mapi acquiesces, and Ingrid turns on a dime, pressing her entire body back into the Spaniard, who grips it with ease. They’ve been together for long enough to know each other's bodies well, perhaps even better than their own. 

And still, Ingrid pressed against her feels like the most natural thing in the world for the brunette. Dancing to make their respective girlfriends jealous was fine if not a bit awkward, tense and tight, the knowledge that neither of them really wanted to be doing it other than to make someone jealous, not allowing them to really enjoy it. 

But it isn’t like that with the Norwegian, quite the opposite in fact. Her hips move in time with Mapi, her back completely flush with the Spaniard’s front. The brunette’s hands reach around to grasp at Ingrid’s hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she ground into the dark haired woman, trying not to let out a whimper when the Norwegian arched her back. 

They’ve been dancing together for a few minutes when Ingrid finally places one of her hands over Mapi’s, pulling it up and over her stomach and chest, reminiscent of something that the Spaniard did just a few minutes ago with another woman. 

Mapi swallowed as Ingrid brought her hand up high and higher, until it was fully on top of her right breast, and she squeezed Mapi’s hand lightly, the defender's hand pressed under the midfielders meaning that she ended up gently kneading the Norwegian’s chest at the action. The Spaniard lets out a harsh breath at the feeling, at the action itself but also the publicity of it. 

Ingrid loved her girlfriend very much, but she admittedly was no longer huge on such sexual public displays. And it had been months since she was this forward in public, and it was turning Mapi on so much that it was practically painful. She remembered the early days of their relationship, when she had been so attracted and desperate for the defender that they couldn’t even make it home, but rather had to fuck in the club bathroom, the Norwegian’s hand clamped over her mouth to keep her from getting them caught.

Alexia’s jealousy might have burned hot and bright, but Ingrid’s simmered. It continued even when Mapi’s hands were all over her body in wildly inappropriate ways, low and threatening, more contained but no less deadly when it finally did strike. 

Ingrid threw her head back on Mapi’s shoulder, her back once again arching as she tilted her head toward the Spaniard, her nose brushing against the defender's neck before she spoke. Her voice was thick and low, and Mapi felt her legs involuntarily clench together at the feeling. But the words out of her mouth are ones that the brunette wasn’t expecting, and it causes her to do a bit of a double take. 

“Did she feel better than me?” Ingrid husks, and Mapi stills against her, her expression jumping in surprise. It seemed like an outrageous question, with the simplest of answers. 

Never.

“What?” She asks, the surprise evident in her tone. It’s at this that Ingrid pulls away entirely, spinning around until her front is pressed into Mapi’s, their chests pressed together as she looks at the defender, their faces barely inches apart. It’s then that the Spaniard sees the jealousy, painted into the lines of her girlfriend's face. 

“I said. Did. She. Feel. Better. Than. Me?” Ingrid spits out, each individual word holding a note of malice, and Mapi’s eyes narrow as she presses further into Ingrid, their lips brushing together, not caring who saw them. 

“No.” Mapi answers plainly, because it’s an answer that doesn’t need to be undressed to be completely true. 

“Prove it,” Ingrid snaps in response, and one of Mapi’s eyebrows lifts in surprise at her tone, but she pulls back slightly before nodding, grabbing the Norwegian’s hand and intending to lead them toward the exit, when the midfielder changes their direction, headed toward the bathrooms instead. 

“Not there. Here. Right now,” Ingrid insists, and Mapi genuinely can’t believe that she’s hearing these words come out of her girlfriend's mouth, but she also doesn’t complain in the slightest. If anything, it’s more of a relief to know that the Norwegian still wants her this much, in this way. Not that Mapi doubted that very often, but occasionally when times like these last few weeks occurred, it was an inevitability. 

Ingrid and Mapi had been together for nearly two years now, and the Spaniard sometimes wondered if she would ever grow tired of this, if their sex life would ever become boring. It was what had scared her about a long term relationship, but she found that the more that she grew to love Ingrid, the more she grew to enjoy and find the fun with experimenting in their relationship. She felt safe to let go, and not like she was contained in the ways she thought a relationship would bring. 

Two years later, and there’s nobody else Mapi would ever fuck in a club bathroom, on the side of the road, in a bed, against the kitchen counter, anywhere, than whereever she was with Ingrid. 

Ingrid leads them back toward the bathrooms of the club with little fanfare. There are separate rooms, two for the men and two for the women. The midfielder drags the two of them to the last one, all but shoving Mapi in the door and stepping in after her, clicking the lock shut before she’s on the Spaniard, pressing her back into the wall as their mouths finally meet. 

The kiss is hot and desperate and needy, Ingrid’s mouth hard against Mapi’s, swallowing the light moan that the Spaniard lets out at the feeling of Ingrid’s body pressed so close to hers. The Norwegian leans back just far enough to splay one of her hands on the defender's abdomen, her lips moving down toward Mapi’s neck. 

The brunette can’t help the whine that slips past her lips when Ingrid nips at her neck, and she can feel the way that the dark haired woman smiles against her skin as she soothes it with her tongue. Her mouth is insistent and unwavering in its path, kissing anywhere and everywhere as a litany of tiny breathy noises slips past the defenders lips. She moves up Mapi’s neck rapidly, before pulling back so that her mouth is right next to the Spaniard's ear. 

“You know how much I love to hear how much you want me, but you’re going to get us caught María,” Ingrid murmurs before she returns to Mapi’s neck, her movements now languid and relaxed, a sharp contrast to the mildly frantic nature of her kisses before she stopped. 

Mapi squirms uncomfortably, the ache between her legs growing hard to ignore. She can’t remember the last time she was this turned on, the last time she wanted Ingrid this badly. The brunette had a bit of a reputation for being rather voracious when it came to sex, and today was no different. 

But the Norwegian is merciful, if only for the fact that she is equally as desperate, her hand descending rapidly south, her nimble fingers popping the button of Mapi’s pants before she pulls the leather down with a sharp tug. The midfielder managed to get the material to Mapi’s mid thigh, and that's really all the space she needs in honesty. 

Ingrid cups the Spaniard over her underwear, letting out a harsh breath at how wet she found the fabric under her. Her expression told a different story, and when Mapi managed to work her eyes open she found a frown written across Ingrid’s face, one that made her pause, just slightly. 

She’s about to ask Ingrid what’s wrong when without any warning whatsoever the midfielder shoves the brunette’s underwear to the side, sinking two fingers into the wet heat she finds between Mapi’s thighs. 

The defender muffles her sharp cry with a hand to her mouth, her eyes slamming shut as stars practically erupt before her closed eyelids. Between the combination of dancing, the fact that it’s been weeks, and the stretch of two fingers right from the get go, Mapi is already painfully close. 

Ingrid moves her fingers achingly slowly, and Mapi lets a little mewl past her fingers that has the Norwegian looking up at her sharply, clearly unimpressed. She clamps her hand over her mouth once more, her hips rutting down, chasing the light friction she’s being given. 

It doesn’t really matter though. She’s so turned on that if Ingrid asked her to come, she probably would. It’s not going to take much. 

Mapi knows it. 

Ingrid knows it. 

But the midfielder is still slightly desperate to drag this on despite the circumstances, so she continues with her bitterly slow pace as she looks Mapi in the eyes, her face tilted as she asks her the question. 

“Would her fingers have felt better? Is it her who you imagine when I’m inside of you?” Ingrid taunts, the anger clear in her tone. 

Mapi was hers, and hers alone. 

She didn’t share. 

“No, god no,” Mapi gasps out as Ingrid picks up her pace, faster and faster and faster until the Spaniard is gripping at her shoulders tightly, chasing the pleasure to the ends of the earth. 

“Who is it you want then?” Ingrid husks, and the sound of her voice combined with the relentless pace is the thing that sends Mapi over the edge out of nowhere, a loud moan spilling out of her mouth as the coil within her snaps. 

“You!” The defender moans out as her back arches into Ingrid, making a complete mess of her underwear as her body shakes and Ingrid grips her tightly. The Norwegian had to admit that she had been expecting the orgasm, but not for it to happen so quickly or quite so pornographically in nature, but she isn’t complaining. She simply holds her girlfriend as she comes down from her high, knowing what her next move is but also not wanting to be completely inconsiderate. 

It’s only when Mapi’s body fully relaxes back into the wall that Ingrid slips out of her, walking over to the paper towel holder and cleaning her fingers before she moves toward the door. 

“Car. Now.” Ingrid doesn’t even bother with full sentences, instead making her intention perfectly clear with two singular words. The Spaniard is quick to pull her pants up and button them, following the Norwegian out of the bathroom stall and to the car, where Ingrid slipped into the driver's seat. She had only had a few sips of her negroni, and didn’t even feel tipsy beyond the slight headiness of getting Maria off. 

Speaking of, the defender had sat down in the car and barely closed her door before Ingrid was pulling away from the curb. Once they had gotten onto the road, the midfielder slid her right hand over, placing it as far up as she possibly could on Mapi’s thigh. The dark haired woman shows no evidence of being affected, compared to the brunette, who whimpers slightly as she shifts in her seat, moving toward Ingrid imperceptibly. 

Despite the fact that she’s already had an orgasm, Mapi still feels desperate. She was hoping that coming would help to satiate her, but it seems to have only done the opposite. She needs Ingrid twice as much as she did at the club, and she’s fighting to sit still in her seat and not suggest they pull over for a repeat of the club, but on the side of the road. 

And Ingrid is absolutely no help. Mapi isn’t sure if her desperation is all that transparent or if Ingrid is egging her on, but halfway through the drive she begins to rub tiny circles into the skin of Mapi’s inner thigh. It’s over the leather of her pants, but it’s still enough for the Spaniard to bite her lip to keep from letting out a grunt of frustration. 

Mapi is so desperate in fact, that when Ingrid finally pulls the car up to their parking spot, she doesn’t even bother with allowing the Norwegian to get out of the car. She simply climbs over the center console, pressing down to shift Ingrid’s seat all the way back before she lands squarely in her lap. It’s a tight fit, but she honestly doesn’t give a flying fuck. 

The defender wastes absolutely no time, gripping Ingrid’s face in her hands as she smashes their lips together in a searing kiss. Ingrid’s hands fly up to hold the Spaniard’s side, keeping her body flush with the Norwegian in the cramped car.

But Mapi doesn’t care, she simply presses her lips to Ingrid’s again and again and again, teeth clashing and thirst unquenchable as she slips her tongue into the midfielders mouth. She can’t help the grunt that shoves itself out when Ingrid slides her hands lower, palming at Mapi’s ass over the leather of her pants. The defender grinds down into Ingrid, even with how cramped her legs are, chasing any, any kind of friction. 

Ingrid somehow manages to work one of her knees toward Mapi, so when the Spaniard grinds down again she is hit with an actual surface to grind against, and she tips her head back in an unabashed moan. 

“Come on María, come for me,” Ingrid encourages, not expecting for much to happen from it. They’ve hardly done anything, and it’s nothing but a little bit of dirty grinding. They haven’t even lost any of their clothes yet. 

But it only takes a few desperate movements from the brunette, directed in pace by Ingrid’s hands which are still on her ass, for Mapi’s head to fall back once more, her mouth opening in a silent cry as she crashes over the edge, Ingrid staring at her with wide eyes. It wasn’t a big orgasm, and it wasn’t really satisfying in the way that the defender desperately needed, but it was still an orgasm nonetheless. 

The Norwegian couldn’t help but be surprised. Between the orgasm in the club and now one here in the car, she was starting to understand perhaps why Mapi had done the things in the club that she had. It didn’t excuse them, but she understood it now, at least. 

And if she really was this desperate, then Ingrid was determined to give her exactly what she needed. Not without a little bit of teasing, however. 

Ingrid leans over to pop her car door open, taking a moment to look at the foggy windows of her car before Mapi was stepping off of her and out toward their apartment, Ingrid following her quickly. 

Mapi kept her head angled away from Ingrid, more than a little embarrassed about her now two orgasms. She knew she seemed desperate, but she really wished that she had more resolve than this. She wasn’t sure what Ingrid was thinking after that last orgasm, and her cheeks remained flush with embarrassment as they came to their front door. The Norwegian unlocked it for them before she held the door for her girlfriend, who still refused to meet her eyes. 

Mapi tried to move past the entryway, but Ingrid wouldn’t let her. The midfielder grasped the defender's wrist, forcing her to turn around to face her. 

“María?” Ingrid asked lightly, her tone a complete contrast to the entire night thus far. Now that the defender won’t even meet her eyeline, she needs to understand what is actually going on here. “What’s going on?” 

Mapi shrugs, pulling her arm back to herself before she offers a half assed answer. 

“I don’t know. It’s been awhile,” she commented off handedly, and Ingrid felt understanding begin to wash over her as she took Maria in. The flush of her cheeks, the way she was shifting from foot to foot, how she refused to meet the midfielder’s eyes after the orgasm in the car. 

“Are you a little needy, corazón?” Ingrid asked, her voice low and thick, and Mapi looked up to find that the same fire that burned deep within her was mirrored back at her in the Norwegian’s eyes. 

The shame she had felt walking back from the car melted away as she nodded, swallowing roughly. Ingrid had this uncanny ability to make her feel incredibly seen, even in instances like this, right now. 

“Yes. For you, and only you,” Mapi adds the last sentence at the last second, and just as she hoped that it would, Ingrid’s face twisted into a satisfied smirk as she moved toward the Spaniard. The midfielder decides in that moment to take a bit of a different approach than what she had originally planned on. Because as much as Mapi had missed Ingrid, the Norwegian had missed the Spaniard just as much. Getting herself off in an empty hotel room devoid of the defender was no match to the real thing standing here in front of her. To the muscled and tattooed form she knew was hiding under all of that clothing, the soft peaks accompanied by taut and muscled valleys of her tan, tattooed skin. 

So she decides to go about this in a way that will satisfy both of them, eventually . 

“There’s other ways to get my attention than to put your hands all over another woman, you know that María?” Ingrid muses, her tone unserious but her words far more goading than Mapi had expected, and the brunette rushes to explain herself. 

“I didn’t–” Mapi starts, only for Ingrid to press her back into the wall, her face inches from the defenders, once again. Her words are low and dripping with sex appeal, and if Mapi’s underwear weren’t already completely ruined it would be now. 

“If you need me to fuck you, you tell me. Because you’re mine, and I don’t share with anyone, not our teammates, not the needy women at the club who eyefuck you, nobody.” Ingrid presses two of her fingers into the entrance of Mapi’s mouth, the Spaniards jaw slackening to allow for her to take the middle and ring finger of the midfielder into her mouth. Ingrid doesn't need to tell her for Mapi to know that she is supposed to suck, and that’s exactly what she does, her eyes never leaving Ingrid’s as she rolls her tongue over and over again. 

Ingrid removes her fingers from Mapi’s mouth before she quickly steps out of her jeans, shucking off her pants and underwear before she slips her top off, and Mapi is rewarded with the sight of her bare chest. 

Mapi follows suit, tugging her leather pants down before she undoes the tie of her corset top, tearing it off her skin, not caring if she ripped the stitching. She reaches back to unclip her bra, discarding it on the ground with little care as she returns to look at Ingrid. 

But what she finds surprises her, because out of all the options she would have counted on, to look back and find her girlfriend touching herself was not one that Mapi was prepared for. Ingrid is pressed up against the opposite wall, her hand moving over her clit in small, tight circles as she breathes harshly, and it fills Mapi with a flare of jealousy, one that Ingrid immediately clocks, a smirk on her face before she opens her mouth to let out a breathy moan. 

“Oh what? You want to help get me off, not her?” Ingrid asks lightly, her hips canting down slightly as her fingers speed up, and Mapi practically growls at the implication, her hands tightening into a fist. But Ingrid isn’t done yet, instead continuing to provoke her girlfriend, obsessed with the way that Maria is looking at her, all protective and filled with want. 

“We could always call Alexia. I’m sure she would have no problem fucking me into next Tuesday if I asked,” Ingrid hums lightly, and the Spaniard’s lips pulled back in a snarl at the thought, suddenly feeling even more territorial. It’s that comment that finally snaps her restraint, and she charges across the hallway, shoving Ingrid’s fingers away from herself so that she can replace them with her own. The thought of Alexia having Ingrid like this, of anyone but her having Ingrid like this is enough to make her shudder with poorly concealed jealousy.  

The Spaniard coats her fingers in the copious wetness that was accumulating between Ingrid’s legs before she slipped a finger into the midfielder, who let out a ragged sigh at the feeling. Her head thumped back against the wall as Mapi attached her lips to the sensitive skin of Ingrid’s neck. She works her lips and tongue down the column of her throat, stopping to suck harshly at her pulse point as the Norwegian lets out another breathy groan, opening her eyes to find Mapi looking at her with blown pupils and hooded eyes. 

It’s all the encouragement needed for the dark haired woman to press herself further into Mapi, slipping her own hand in between their bodies to curl into the defender as well. 

Mapi moans, not having expected Ingrid to do it, but she squirms and presses closer to the Norwegian at the feeling as she doubles down, increasing her pace, desperate to get Ingrid over the edge. 

Desperate for Ingrid to only want her, and her alone. 

Ingrid curls her fingers within Mapi, and the brunette's pace stutters as she lets out a keening whine, and Ingrid smirks around a groan that she lets out, looking far too self satisfied. 

But Mapi’s face is still set in what can only be described as jealousy, and she increases her pace as Ingrid does as well. 

Ingrid is closer than Mapi, but she shakes her head, clamping down on the brunette's fingers, forcing her to slow her pace. 

“Together,” Ingrid insists, grits out really as she fights her own impending orgasm, and Mapi watches her for a second before she nods, focusing on her own pleasure for a moment as Ingrid’s fingers curl tighter into her. Mapi grips the Norwegian’s shoulder with her free hand, nearly sobbing in relief at the feeling of Ingrid so deeply inside of her, and just when she’s on the crest does she nod fervently. Ingrid relaxes herself, allowing for Mapi to pick up her pace once more. 

Their front hallway is filled with the sound of choked sobs and low moans as the two women fall over the precipice, Mapi first and then Ingrid right after her, holding tightly to one another as their bodies shake and work through their respective orgasm. 

Ingrid is the first of the two of them to fully come back to herself, but she allows for Mapi to remain tightly wound to her as the Spaniard shudders through her orgasm, letting out a sigh of relief as she lets out a final shake. 

The Norwegian is looking at her with quirked lips, and Mapi looks slightly hazy, having finally, finally having gotten some of the relief that she had been craving so acutely. 

Without words, the midfielder steps back into her space, pressing her lips to the corner of Mapi’s mouth for a moment before the Spaniard turns into her, kissing her properly. 

Ingrid grips Mapi’s hand, bringing it forward to press it to her stomach before she slid it up, over her chest. Mapi took the hint easily, kneading at Ingrid’s breasts as the Norwegian whimpered slightly, a smirk still on her lips. 

“And to think,” Ingrid began, her lips just barely ghosting over Mapi’s, they were so close together. 

“It could be Alexia doing this,” the midfielder mused, and it’s enough to make Mapi’s whole face darken as she pulls back sharply.

“No.” Mapi answers simply, trying to sound tough, but it comes out rather breathy and needy. 

“No? And why is that?” Ingrid asks, and Mapi is happy to supply the answer. 

“You’re mine,” Mapi answers simply, and Ingrid grins devilishly before she pushes the Spaniard back slightly, offering her a wink before she begins to head to the bedroom. 

Ingrid had the defender right where she wanted her, and she wasn’t about to let that go to waste. When Mapi slips in the door just a second after her, she’s greeted with the sight of Ingrid bent over, her perfect ass on display as she looks through their toy drawer. 

Mapi was honestly expecting Ingrid to grab something to use on her, given the possessive nature of the Norwegian earlier in the night, but what she forgot to factor in was that perhaps Ingrid was just as desperate for some relief as she was. 

So maybe Mapi really can’t be all that surprised when Ingrid tosses her the strap, before fishing out the toy she wants to use. It’s a green one, long and thin, and a personal favorite of the midfielder. The Norwegian watches with hungry eyes as Mapi attaches the toy to the strap before stepping into the harness, taking care to cinch it up all without her gaze ever leaving Ingrids. 

When Mapi is finally getting the last few straps adjusted, Ingrid points toward the bed wordlessly, and despite the eyebrow raise she receives, the Spaniard is quick to obey, laying down on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows to watch Ingrid. 

The dark haired woman walks toward the bed slowly, climbing on top of Mapi and settling on her lap, her core connecting with the toy that is laying dormant on the defender's stomach. 

Ingrid leans down, attaching her lips to Mapi’s chest, swirling her nipple around with her tongue and laving it with attention before she switches to her other breast. Mapi laid back on the bed at the sensation, her chest arching up into the Norwegian’s mouth as one of her hands came to tangle in Ingrid’s dark, thick hair. The brunette doesn’t direct her exactly, but when she pulls lightly on Ingrid’s hair she is rewarded with a moan that is pressed into her skin. 

Ingrid kisses up between the valley of her breasts, over her collarbone and up over her neck, nipping at her neck tattoo before she moves to suck earnestly at Mapi’s throat. It takes all of her energy for the Spaniard to not writhe under the Norwegian’s careful ministrations, and Ingrid can’t help but smirk into her neck by how taut and tense Mapi’s body has become. 

The midfielder finally moves until her nose is just to the outer edge of Mapi’s ear, her head turned in toward the brunette. ‘

“Have you ever considered María,” Ingrid drawls, her voice low and positively dripping with sex, “that I might need you just as much as you need me?” 

The dark haired woman provides no further elaboration before she is off of Mapi, reaching for the bottle of lube and squirting some into her hand, gripping the dildo and coating it appropriately, making sure to press it back into the harness and toward Mapi’s body when she moves downward. It’s not a two way strap by any means, but the Spaniard can feel the pressure against her navel, and her hips buck up of their own volition at the slightest bit of friction. 

With a smile, Ingrid wipes her hand on a clean towel they keep in their toy drawer before she slips back onto Mapi’s lap, her knees on either side of the Spaniard’s hips. She reaches down to grip the dildo, bringing it up so that she can sink onto it, very, very slowly. 

It’s not a thick dildo, but Ingrid is still tight and it shows. Mapi remains laying but she opens her eyes to watch the show, as Ingrid presses further and further down with each pass, giving herself time to adjust. 

When she finally does bottom out, she makes sure to move her hips in a circular motion, just like she knows that Mapi likes, just like she knows will drive the defender crazy. 

If Mapi can tease, so can Ingrid. 

And tease, she does.

The Norwegian is near pornographic in her display, moving up and down as her chest bounces, and she arches her back as a moan ripples out of her mouth. 

Her hands have come first to run through her hair, and when she looks down Mapi is looking at her in exactly the way the midfielder wants her to, like some sort of ethereal person. Ingrid, at least to herself, might be far from it, but she would never lie and say that Mapi looking at her this way didn’t turn her on. 

She can feel her wetness running down the inside of her thighs as she continues, picking up her pace as more groans and whines slip from her lips. She’s closer now, probably needs a little bit of stimulation on her clit to send her over the edge, but she wants to make it last a little bit longer, wants Mapi to look at her like this a little longer. 

When the defender reaches up to palm at her chest Ingrid is quick to stop her, grasping her wrist as her pace stutters, the midfielder sitting down and shifting her hips side to side in slow motions. 

“Uh-huh. Touching is only for Alexia, right? Just like you touched her?” Ingrid asks in a saccharinely sweet tone, and Mapi’s eyes widen in surprise as Ingrid lets go of her hand, reaching down to play with her own clit for a few seconds as she resumed her pace. It only took her a few more moments to crest over the edge, a broken cry leaving her lips as her body contracts, her chest pressing up as she slides the hand that had been on her clit up her body to palm at her own chest. 

Meanwhile, the Spaniard has been left absolutely fuming under Ingrid, and she doesn’t even allow the Norwegian to fully come down from her orgasm before she’s flipping the two of them, the dark haired woman landing squarely on her back with Mapi over her. 

The defender doesn’t even bother saying anything, she simply moves Ingrid’s legs to open her up before she begins to press into her, her eyes watching for any sense of true discomfort. 

They had a safe word, and they’ve used it before, but Mapi is always still conscious to check. She knows they push the boundaries of this sort of thing on occasion, but when she looks at Ingrid she finds nothing but acceptance looking back at her. 

The dark haired woman pants Mapi’s name as the brunette rolls her hips into the Norwegian’s over and over and over again, her pace quick and efficient. 

Ingrid is losing her grip on reality slightly, completely overcome with pleasure as she looks up at the defender. She’s still sensitive from her last orgasm, and the pleasure is nearly all consuming when Mapi gets this focused. The Spaniard is bracing herself on either side of Ingrid’s chest, her arms flexed as she presses down toward Ingrid again and again and again, and the Norwegian can’t find it within herself to be of any complaint. 

“You’re mine,” Mapi grunts out as her hips slap into Ingrid’s, and the Norwegian’s mouth opens in a deliciously unabashed moan as she nods insistently, too far gone to remember the little game they had been playing. 

“I’m yours María, all yours,” Ingrid gasps as Mapi slams into her, and the defender can’t help the groan she lets out at hearing Ingrid say that she was hers. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow, a dark contrast against the white bedsheets, and her cheeks are flushed as she bites her lip, her chest positively heaving, stuttering with pleasure. 

Mapi’s positive she’s never seen anything more gorgeous, and when Ingrid finally comes it’s in a silent cry, her abdominal muscles rippling as a guttural moan finally appears as she comes with a force. There are tears leaking out of her eyes as her body arches into the feeling, and Mapi is quick to pull out and work her middle finger and ring finger over Ingrid’s clit in tight circles, and just when Ingrid is sure that she can’t take anymore, the Spaniard slips her fingers into the midfielder. 

Ingrid’s mouth opens as her chest arches, but Mapi is relentless. 

The defender is completely insatiable, never wants to see anything but Ingrid come like this again and again. 

“María, María, I–” Ingrid tries, but hearing the Norwegian moan her name is doing nothing but making the Spaniard work harder, her two fingers curling into the midfielder as her thumb teases her clit over and over and over again. 

Ingrid comes without warning, a warm gush of liquid spilling over Mapi’s hand and out onto their bedsheets, as her body convulses, her lover's name slipping from her lips like a prayer as her third orgasm shudders through her. 

Mapi works her through it gently, far more smug with herself than she had been when she had come inside the house initially. The ache between her own thighs has grown entirely unbearable, but all she cares about is Ingrid as she settles next to the Norwegian, whose eyes are still screwed tightly shut, her chest working overtime to get air to her lungs. 

Aftershakes work their way through her body as Mapi places a hand delicately on her stomach, a soothing presence rather than an overly sexual one. It takes her a few minutes to come back to herself, but eventually the midfielders breath evened out, and she places her own hand over Mapi’s as she looks over at the Spaniard, who is propped up on one elbow looking at her. 

“Better?” Mapi asks softly, in reference to the thing Ingrid had last said before she had started fucking herself on the strap. Ingrid swallows thickly as she takes Mapi in, how thready and tight her body appears, the way her legs are crossed even as she lays in bed, all of the hallmark signs that her girlfriend needs to get off. 

Ingrid knew this when she got into a relationship with the Spaniard. Mapi’s sex drive was on another planet, and the Norwegian loved it about her. She could go for hours and hours, and was completely bottomless not only in her desire, but also in her ability to give. 

The Norwegian knew if she asked to stop that Mapi would easily agree, likely slipping off to the bathroom to get herself off once or twice before she returned to Ingrid, wrapping her arms around the Norwegian and letting her fall asleep on her chest. 

But Ingrid, despite being blissed out currently, is more than happy to continue this. So she shakes her head, one eyebrow raising as she raked her eyes over the defender's bare figure. 

“No,” Ingrid answered simply before she sat up, leaning over into the Spaniard’s space and pressing her down onto the bed with a hand on her sternum. 

“Can’t have you going to bed with the feeling of your hands on her now, can I?” Ingrid teases, but it lacks most of the bite of earlier. Mapi only smirks back at her as the Norwegian returns to her chest once more. She’s more thorough in her attention this time around, less desperate for herself and more attuned to Mapi’s body. She flattens her tongue against the defender's nipple as she brings a hand up to pinch at the opposing nipple, smiling into the brunette’s chest as she whines at the feeling. 

Ingrid kisses her way down Mapi’s abdomen, licking a line down her abs before she nips at the skin there playfully, enjoying the way that Mapi’s hips jump at the contact. 

The Norwegian has to take a few minutes when she finally meets her destination to pull at the cinches of the strap, undoing it before she carefully slides it down Mapi’s legs, the brunette lifting her hips to help the Norwegian get it off. 

Ingrid rids it of the green dildo before she sets it carefully to the side, well aware that she’ll be coming back for it shortly. But for now she turns back to her girlfriend, well aware of her current destination. 

Mapi can’t help but spread her legs wider as Ingrid settles between her legs, looking up at the Spaniard once more before she lowers herself right toward where the defender wanted her. 

“You sure you don’t want me to call Ale, ask her if she can send her little girlfriend back here to get you off instead of me?” Ingrid offers, so close to Mapi that she can feel the hot breath from her speaking, right where she needs the midfielder. 

“God, no Ingrid, I just want you,” Mapi promises, trying her hardest not to squirm as she nods her head. Ingrid seems to be satisfied with that answer, and she leans down, bracing her hands on either of Mapi’s thighs as she licks through the defender. 

The Spaniard lets out an ungodly noise as her hips jump into Ingrid’s mouth, and the Norwegian can’t help but moan at the taste of the defender, salty and wonderful and just as she remembers it, even after all this time. 

Ingrid moves up to flick Mapi’s clit, first side to side and then up and down with her tongue as the brunette’s hands bunch in the sheets, grunting at the feeling of Ingrid’s soft tongue against her. 

The Spaniard clenches her thighs around Ingrid’s head, pulling her in as she brings Mapi’s clit into her mouth earnestly, sucking hard as the defender bites back a scream. 

Mapi struggles to keep her hips pinned to the bed, and when she arches for the third time the Norwegian slides her hand up to press it over the base of the defender’s navel, keeping her hips trapped down to the bed sheets. 

Once she is assured that the defender won’t move, the midfielder dives back in, slipping her tongue into the wet heat between the defender's thigh, letting the slick coat her lips and chin as she pressed further and further into the brunette. 

Ingrid wasn’t trying to tease, she was far past that at this point, and she smiled when she felt the familiar tightening of Mapi’s abdomen, still working herself against the defender as she slipped two fingers into the Spaniard, curling them quickly and effectively. 

Mapi cried out, gasping Ingrid’s name as she came with the Norwegian’s finger buried deep within her, her tongue working her clit over in circles as she came down from her high. She sucked in air in a greedy fashion, only realizing once she opened her eyes that Ingrid wasn’t on the bed with her anymore, but rather standing next to her, currently getting herself adjusted to the strap. 

Mapi’s eyes widened in surprise before her pupils dilated, the thought of Ingrid fucking into her a more than welcome thought. The dark haired woman had attached Mapi’s favorite toy to the strap, the red one with ridges, and just the sight of it practically has the Spaniard drooling in want. 

“All fours,” Ingrid instructs, and the defender is quick to pop up and settle just as Ingrid had told her. One look at the wetness between the brunette’s thighs is enough for the midfielder to know that she probably doesn’t need any sort of lube, but she does it regardless, not wanting Mapi to be uncomfortable. 

Mapi has settled herself on the edge of the bed, and Ingrid walks right over to her and places her dominant hand on the small of the Spaniard’s back. She runs her hand over the tattoos she finds there, the cross, the lion, the two sphynx’s, the lotus flower at the base of her neck. 

She runs her hand down the defenders spine, trailing it with just one finger and smiling at the way that Mapi shivered under her before she palmed at the Spaniard’s ass appreciatively before she finally returned to exactly where Mapi wanted her. 

Ingrid eases the strap into Mapi slowly, allowing her time to adjust to it as she moves in and out of her shallowly. It didn’t take long for the Spaniard to adjust, arching her chest into the ground and throwing her head back as she pressed back into Ingrid. 

The Norwegian grips at Mapi’s hip for security, beginning to set a slow rhythm of pumping into the defender. But Mapi wants more, and faster, and she reaches around with one hand to grasp at the midfielders thigh, encouraging Ingrid to go faster. 

“Please, more,” Mapi practically begs, and Ingrid smirks at the desperation in her tone but she obliges all the same, beginning to move faster and faster. 

The brunette lets out a ragged sigh at the feeling, her head still thrown back as her hips press up. The Spaniard drops down onto her elbows, changing the angle and releasing a groan at the feeling as Ingrid continued, her pace quickening. She’s reaching the perfect spot, and it only continues with her next movement. 

The Norwegian reaches forward with one hand to toy with the defender's clit, knowing that Mapi was close, and knowing that this was going to be a good orgasm. The muscles of the brunette’s back were rippling as her chest contracted and spasmed, and her breathing wasn’t so much breathing as it was raspy moans. 

Mapi was tightening around the strap, making it hard for Ingrid to move even as she continued to pump in and out of the Spaniard, her hand working tirelessly over the defender's clit. 

Mapi can’t even stop the whines to warn Ingrid that she is going to come, not that she needed to. Ingrid could tell, and she chased it, pressing faster and harder into the Spaniard as the coil inside Mapi snapped, sending her crashing over the edge violently as her body spasms and contracts. 

There is stillness in the bed for a moment, the brunette suspended in pleasure before her entire body begins to shake with the force of her orgasm, Ingrid’s name falling from her mouth in a breathy moan, reverent as her entire body relaxes into the mattress, her hips still up in the air, Ingrid still completely inside of her. 

The dark haired woman leans forward to press a line of open mouthed kisses to the defenders spine softly, allowing her to come down from her orgasm slowly before she slipped out of her, stepping out of the strap and discarding it to the side before she made for the bathroom briskly. 

Mapi is still laying on the bed when Ingrid returns, brandishing a wet washcloth that she uses to clean first the defender, and then herself before she discards it back in the bathroom. By the time she manages to get back to bed the defender is settled against the pillows, her chest and face flushed but alert, and she gestures for Ingrid to join her, something the Norwegian happily does. 

Ingrid curls into Mapi’s side as she always does, tilting her head up to ghost her nose over the skin of the brunette’s throat before she presses a featherlight kiss to her jaw, the softness a juxtaposition to the frantic yet deliberate sex they had just finished having. 

But this was one of the things Mapi loved about Ingrid, her ability to be just as sweet as she was sexy, to do those kinds of things in the bed before they curled into one another, their adoration just as prominent as their lust was. It was the first time that Mapi has felt that kind of balance with someone, and now she craves it almost as much as the actual sex itself sometimes. 

“You know,” Ingrid murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper but still audible nonetheless. “You don’t need to hump on one of our teammates to get me to fuck you, you know that right?” 

Her tone is gentle, forgiving and understanding in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. When Mapi doesn’t say anything, she continues. 

“I missed you just as much as you did me, I promise. We don’t need to let it get this bad, I just need you to talk to me. I had no idea how you were feeling,” Ingrid admits, because the fact was that she was relatively unaware of exactly how Mapi had been feeling, and she hates that. Maria is her favorite person, and she always wants to know what she is feeling or what she is concerned about or needed. 

Mapi sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of Ingrid’s hair before she wrapped her arm tighter around the Norwegian, more protective and secure. 

“I know, you are right. In the future I will be more honest and try to communicate with you more about what I need and when,” Mapi vows, and there is silence for a few moments before she smirks, letting out a huff of a laugh before she speaks once more. 

“It was pretty nice to rile you up and get you all jealous like that, though, that was hot,” Mapi admits, and realizes as soon as she’s said it that it’s a mistake. 

“Really María? Well…I guess two can play at that game!”  “Wait, no I didn’t – what?!”

[fanartlover1234]

QUEEN'S GUARD

Peter meets Y/n for the first time when the queens guard comes looking for Snowhite.

PETER PAN (OUAT) X Y/N

Peter stood at the edge of the cliff his and the quards attention caught by the girl when she stumbled up the mountain, a sword straped around her hip over her white dress.

"Mermaids" she mumbled under her breath, both guards kneeling before her " the queen" she continued her mumbled as an amused smirk played on peters lips "hate them both, both are annoying" she cursed her eyes meeting Peters.

He skaned over her dripping features, her brown hair stuck to her fave as her amber eyes looked up at him as she stood up straight.

"Miss" he said " i believe you are looking for someone" he stated.

The guards armor made a sound as they got up making Y/n look back.

"No im not, i just went for a swim with mermaid just for fun" she spoke, sarcams dripping from her voice as she looked up into his green eyes as a dark chuckle excaped over his lips.

"What do i get if i tell you where she is"

"You keep your head" she said as she pulled her sword, the sharp tip under his chin as he raised his hands up in defense.

"Well, she has never been out on this isalnd" he said.

Her sword left his chin as she placed it back in the holder before walking down the mountain before she yelled out "lets go"

Peter looked at her, her walk and looks were not the kind that screamed that she was a soldier yet her daring nature said that she wasnt a guard just for her loyalty and streinght.

It wasn't the last time she was there, sent around by the queen and soon around was a traveling lost girl.

One day Peter was looking over the island from the cliff when he heard a scream, someone falling from the sky into the mermaid lake, his mind going to the girl as he smirked.

Y/n prepered herself for the inpact of the water only to land in someones hands.

They made it to the ground and she looked up at who had saved her to meet the same green eyes she has been met with so many times.

Peter looked at the girl, no sword at her hip, she wore long black skirt and a no hand corset top, her usual cargo boots on.

"This has to be the first time i dont see you drenched" he joked waving a hand for her to follow him.

"Dont mention it" she laughed out a bit " those mermaids are like rapid animals" this caused the boy to laugh before she almost ran into his chest when he suddenly stopped, turning towards her small frame.

"Why are you here?" He asked her, she rolled her eyes.

"Am i that unwanted here" her usual joke when he aksed her the same question as she sat on some fallen down tree looking at him.

"Y/n" his voice was low and steady as he looked at her " we always want you here, but no sword at your hip" he said.

She just looked down her arma dancing with eachother as she was nervouse before Peter placed his hand over hers, kneelinb before her his eyes looking for her.

"Y/n"

"The Queen gave my squad an order to kill the lost boys" she spoke, his gaze became an angry one but softened at her nexy words "they refused her and payed for it"

"How?"

"They were killed, Peter okey. They are dead"she said harshly.

He nodded simply.

"Then she ordered me to kill" she stoped at the last word, seemingly not able to get it over her lips.

"She ordered you to kill the lost boys"

She shook her head, looking down.

"She ordered me to kill" she paused looking i too his eyes " you" her last word left her mouth as a whisper.

Peter pulled back a little, yet not letting go of jer hand, his eyes looked for anything in hers to tell what she told the queen "Is that why you are here, to-"

"I refused, i couldn't" she spoke "I'm here, because she tried to kill me, i ran away" she mumbled under her breath, a small gasp left her lips when Peters arms wraped around her.

Over the same day, new rules were made, a place for her was shown.

Peter knocked and the wooden door of his own hut where she would stay till hers is prepered while he would stay at the tree house.

Her voice welcomed him in.

He entered the room looking at her as she sat on his bed "Are you okey?"

She simply nodded at him, she got up from the bed as her eyes fell to the small box in his hands.

"I, everytime someone joins us, i give them a little something" he said handing her the box.

She opened it revieling a beautuful fabric string necklace as a green crystal hung on it, she admired it, lifting it out of the box.

"Can you help me put it on" Peter nodded and she turned around as she handed him the necklace lifting up her hair as he gently moved his hands as he tied the necklace.

[natailiatulls07]

Princess Peach and Mario

Max Verstappen x female!reader

Summary - Danny Ric is hosting a hous party for Halloween and you've convinced Max to wear matching couple costumes

Warning - alcohol

A/n - It's the last halloween fic :(( I don’t feel all the best atm, it’s been a long week. I haven’t seen my bestfriend in a few months and she’s coming down next week so let’s hope that’ll help my spirits 🤞🏻

23 Halloween Season

-

“I look ridiculous.” I was pulling on my long white gloves when I hear my Dutch boyfriend complain. Turning to look at him, he was stood in front of our full length mirror with disgust on his face.

Unlike his usual attire of a redbull polo and dark skinny jeans, Max was dressed in a pair of Jean dungarees, red t-shirt and a red Mario hat. “You look great! Really suits you!”

My comment earned me a look of annoyance. Coming to stand next to him, I was dressed in a puffy baby pink mini dress paired with a small golden crown, matching white gloves and knee length shoes and my white air force ones.

We were Princess Peach and Mario, much to his dismay.

“Right, are you finished because we have leave now or we’ll be late” Max grabbed my hand, pulling me through the apartment making our quick exit.

Danny was hosting a big Halloween bash, and had invited us. As soon as we got the invitation, I set off to find us the perfect couple’s customer.

Of course, Max had tried to get us to go in separate costumes but failed miserably. Landing us amused stares from others in our apartment complex.

-

Walking into Daniels house, we both noticed that there was a bigger amount of people than expected. “It’s busy in here” I lean up to whisper in his ear over the loud music.

With a scowl on his face, Max nodded. His Mario hat moving along with the nod.

Max was about to reply when the host of the night made his way through to us. Greeting Max with a manly handshake and then giving me a small hug.

“I mean Y/n you out did yourself!” Daniel had been in on the couples costume we were wearing, and he was fully living for it. “So glad he actually agreed to it”

Whilst laughing together both me and Daniel turned to look at Max who was just stood there with the same scowl on his face. “I hate this” He grumbled childishly.

Danny’s high pitched laugh sounded over the loud music. “You’d look a lot more intimidating if you weren’t dressed like that buddy!”

“Whatever..” Max mutters under his breath as he fixes himself a drink before making my go to drink.

Danny was about to go greet other guests but not without quickly dropping one more comment to us. “Hey head up the stairs, there’s an area for close guest! Cheer up Max!” And he was gone.

Handing me my drink, Maxs hand found its place around my waist before leaning down to my ear. “Hey let’s head upstairs!” I nod in reply before he kisses my temple and leading me upstairs.

-

We had been the close guests area for about thirty minutes, Max was talking to Lando whilst I was making conversation with Heidi.

Daniel hadn’t considered the amount of close guests he had invited so there was limited seating, because of the limited seating I had ended up sat on Maxs lap. He had his arms secured around my waist.

“Girl I love your outfit!” She was dressed in tight brown corset over a lacey white dress paired with some knee high boats and a brown pirates hat.

Unlike me and Max, her and Daniel weren’t fond of couples costumes and everyone respected that about them. So that’s why she here dressed as a pirate whilst Daniel, who was sat beside talking to a close friend of his, was dressed like a cowboy.

“Thank you, how did you convince mister cold to wear matching costumes?” She chuckles whilst quickly sparing a glance over to Max who was getting teased by Lando.

“I seriously don’t know, fell for my charm I guess!” I joke to which I guess Max heard as he tickled my waist making me squirm slightly.

“Teach me your tricks” Heidi replies with a smirk on her face.

-

It was around 2am when me and Max decided to order a Uber back to our apartment. Max was more sober as he wasn’t much of a drinker and knew I wasn’t one to hold my alcohol well.

We had gotten back to our apartment, Max forced a glass of water down my throat knowing that I would thank him in the morning.

“Thank you for this evening!” I exclaimed loudly, Max quickly shushing me with a finger to my mouth.

“It’s okay schat…” He smiles softly as he starts to help me in getting ready for bed. “I love you, I swear I do but maybe no more costumes for a while”

I giggle cheekily. “We’ll see…”

-

Tag list - @ilovechickenwings @carlossainzwho @ipab @erikasurfer @soph1644

[angel-princess-anna]

Tributes to Maggie from the Downton Cast and Crew (Part 2):

Part 1

Hugh Bonneville (in addition to his previous comment):

Elizabeth McGovern:

Joanne Froggatt: "Today we lost a true legend. It’s hard to find the words to pay tribute to the iconic Dame Maggie Smith. I shared a screen with her on very few occasions but was fortunate enough to be in her company on many. She truly was a trailblazer, with the sharpest wit, the greatest talent, the naughtiest sense of humour, she was a force to be reckoned with. She had a charisma that you felt would live for ever (in many ways it will) and underneath all of that a huge heart. Thank you Maggie, for always being supportive and kind to me, for putting many a smile on my face with that sharp wit that no one could match, and for showing the rest of us just how it’s done.

Rest in peace Dame Maggie, my thoughts are with your beautiful family. 🖤"

Lily James:

Tom Cullen: "I remember a very specific part of the conversation Maggie and I were having when this photo was taken. Maggie had been doing a big and challenging scene where she is reunited with her old flame played by Rade Serbedzija. I was stood at the back, out of frame and able to observe these incredible actors at their work. But for whatever reason Maggie felt like she wasn’t getting the scene right. Maggie took the smallest moment, came back and next take, simply, effortlessly, delivered a masterclass. She was extraordinary. The director called “cut” and we moved on. I was spellbound. During our conversation at the window, I asked Maggie what she did in order for her to so swiftly and precisely produce such an elevated performance. I remember her looking me in the eye and saying “Oh darling! I was just holding in a fart!”. I remember us both bursting out laughing. I really wished that she had been just holding in a fart but of course that wasn’t the real truth, the real truth was that she worked tirelessly her entire career to make that scene look easy.

I only worked with her for a short while, but I feel so blessed to have had that experience. She was tough, demanded the best but making Maggie laugh felt like winning the lottery.

My heart goes out to her family, friends, her Downton family and all those she touched with her sharp, agile and acerbic brilliance.

We lost an absolute giant today 💔"

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tom Cullen (@tom_cullen)

Lesley Nicol: "It's a very close group of people so we're all devastated to think she's not around any more.' [...] "I'd never worked with someone of that calibre, and I thought, I don't know what I'll say to her, it will be really tricky, God she'll probably be really grand. She was not looking for anyone to be scared of her, or in awe of her, she just wanted to be in the gang [...] she was in with the crowd, and just very happy to be part of it all."

Jeremy Swift: "An honour to serve you Maggie."

Lady Carnarvon: "I never saw her on set with a little script, she knew it before she got here [to Highclere]. She worked so hard, to get up at silly o' clock... and to wear corsets for hours on end." [Highclere Castle's post]

Harriet Walter: "She was a true comedian, but also I've seen her playing some incredibly heartfelt, deep, sad roles, which is the huge range of an actress like her. If she was merely funny or merely tragic, she wouldn't quite have made that sort of impression."

Anna Mary Scott Robbins: "I C O N 🤍 Oh Maggie you will be missed 💔"

(special thanks to @lovelikewildness for helping to compile)

[milfsloverblog]

How Eve Felt (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x Fem!reader

A/N: Listen, this is just pure filth. 1500 words of porn without plot. Nothing but Jane Murdstone smut. I started this WIP months ago and thought I’d never publish it but a few of you liked the snippet I shared, so... Anyway, enjoy <3

tw: spit kink, mention of Christianity related stuff (this is how I deal with my religious trauma)

✨ AO3 LINK IN TITLE ✨

You always tried your best to keep your eyes away from your lady’s flesh when you undressed her. That night had been no different as you only looked at your fingers working on the lacing of her corset.

Jane stayed quiet for a while, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the mirror as you worked behind her.

“You did say this was your first time working as a lady’s maid, didn’t you?” She asked, her voice as stern as it usually was.

“Yes, Miss Murdstone.” You nodded and carefully peeled the corset from her, folding it before placing it by her dress on the chair.

“In that case,” She said as she turned around to face you, cocking her head a little. “I cannot help but wonder where on earth you have learnt how to undress a woman so swiftly.”

You swallowed thickly. Your eyes had caught sight of the swell of her small breasts under her chemise and it instantly made your throat go dry.

What were you supposed to tell her? Oh, well, I have undressed my fair share of women, right before laying with them.

“Well?” She insisted. “Cat got your tongue?!”

You knew then by the smirk on her face that Miss Murdstone probably had a good idea of how you’d become an expert at undressing the fairer sex.

“I suppose I'm a quick learner, my lady.” You simply answered, hoping it would satisfy the tall woman’s curiosity.

Jane narrowed her eyes, silently looking at you for a moment while the gears turned in her head.

“Take my chemise off.” She eventually ordered in a bark.

It felt like she was testing you. Sure, this was part of what a lady’s maid had to do but the way she said it, it did feel like she was testing you.

You ended up doing as you were told, silently thanking your hands for not shaking too much when you grabbed the hem of her chemise and pulled the garment over her head.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Do not look.

“Look at me.” Jane demanded, your eyes immediately snapping from your hands to her face.

“I am looking at you, Miss Murdstone.”

“Look at me the way you really wish to.” She smirked again and you were sure your thumping heartbeat could be heard throughout the whole household.

You exhaled shakily and eventually moved your gaze from her eyes to her nose, then down to her mouth. What would it be like to kiss her? To lick over the scar on her lip? To have her tongue push into your mouth?

You spent a few seconds on the length of her neck, watching her pulse point steadily move up and down. From the look of it, she didn’t seem nervous about what was happening, at least not as much as you were.

Her shoulders were next, pulling a smile from your lips. It was a funny thing, really, for a cold and metallic woman like Jane to have such an inviting freckled skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes landed on her chest, her nipples visibly hardening as you took in her pert breasts.

“Miss Murdstone, we should not-“ You were cut off by Jane’s hand roughly grabbing hold of your face, her fingertips digging almost painfully into your cheeks.

“And who decides on what we should or should not do, hm?” She asked, using a honey-dripping voice as if she wasn’t holding you with a vice-like grip.

“You, Miss Murdstone.” You whispered barely audibly, nearly letting a whine out when she let go of your jaw.

“Good.” She gave a slight nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened when you noticed that she was slowly spreading her legs. Her lips pulled in a devilish smirk seeing how your face twitched as you tried your best to keep your eyes locked on hers, knowing full well the sight that would be waiting for you if you allowed yourself to look down at her crotchless bloomers.

Jane had to admit that she was impressed by your self-restraint, many girls would have run for the door while some, fewer, would have touched her already.

“Kneel.” She barked, delighting in the way you slightly jumped at the unexpected order.

Your legs wobbled and you fell to your knees like a devotee praying at the altar. Your gaze inevitably fell on the wet pink flesh between her legs, your mouth watering at how inviting it looked.

“Well, do come closer!” Jane spoke as if she was in a hurry and for a split second you wondered if she was eager to feel you on her.

You did as you were told, crawling closer until you were kneeling between her legs and tentatively placed your hands on her covered knees. Jane raised an eyebrow at the boldness of your move but decided she would allow it.

“I assume you have done this before, haven’t you?” The woman asked, her chin never lowering as she looked down at you, making her appear even more condescending.

“Have I ever found myself between a woman’s legs? Yes. Have I ever knelt before one? No.” But I don’t mind kneeling for you. I don’t mind praying at your altar. I would spend the rest of my life on my knees if you asked me to. I do want to worship you.

“Let us make it a memorable first time, shall we?” Jane purred and her fingers took hold of your face again, gentler than they did before.

She tilted your head back as far as it would go and pried your jaws open, chuckling when you stuck your tongue out instinctively.

“Aren’t you a well-trained slut?” Jane cooed, gathering the saliva in her mouth and slowly letting it fall on your tongue, a wave of arousal coating her sex when your pupils dilated.

The older woman raised an eyebrow and, knowing exactly what was expected of you, you closed your eyes and swallowed. You couldn’t help but be reminded of your first Holy Communion when, kneeling before the priest, the sacred host had been placed on your tongue.

You almost let an Amen slip from your lips when Jane suddenly grabbed a handful of your hair and your eyes snapped back open.

“How many women have you laid with?”

“Plenty.” You admitted in a whisper, wondering how many Jane had shared her bed with.

“Prove it.” She smirked, bringing your face closer to her cunt.

You didn’t waste any more time and dipped your thumbs into the warmth between Jane’s legs, brushing the tip of one thumb over her clit to watch the way her whole body responded. Jane jerked, hips canting forward, and you hid your grin by placing a soft kiss on the milky skin of her inner thigh. The woman’s breath hitched and you wondered if it was caused by her not expecting any softness from you (or anyone else).

Keeping your fingers holding Jane open, you leaned in closer, blowing lightly over her cunt before burying your face in it. You wrapped your lips around the woman’s clit and sucked sharply, Jane’s body jolting above you as a moan tore itself from the back of her throat.

The woman opened her mouth to speak but cut herself off as you sucked harder, drawing tight circles around her clit. Moving one hand from where you had it braced around Jane’s thigh, you pushed your thumb into her entrance, tugging at her opening and massaging inside of her. The streak of moans that escaped your lady’s lips made your whole body shudder.

Then suddenly her hand snaked back in your hair, holding tightly and so close to your scalp that you felt your skin burn. Jane pressed you so deep into herself you could hardly breathe. She had taken back control of herself, and of you as well. You fisted the material of Jane’s drawers and squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue was ridden, your lady grinding herself into your mouth exactly how she wanted, how she needed.

Feverish shivers ran down your spine, your knees slowly sliding open on the wood flooring. You wished you had tucked a pillow between your legs before this began so you could ride out your own pleasure as you dripped from having your face fucked. But your lady wouldn’t have allowed it, you were quite certain she enjoyed having you squirm helplessly.

Jane’s movements became erratic, her chest quickly heaving up and down as she desperately chased her release. And then you felt it. You felt her come. You felt the cruelest woman you knew come into your mouth, her clit throbbing against your tongue as she let a single loud guttural moan out.

As the hand on the back of your head loosened its grip, you slumped against the older woman’s thigh. And as you knelt there, half of your face slick and chin dripping with Jane’s essence, you wondered - is this how Eve felt, taking the first bite of the forbidden fruit, as pomegranate juice dripped on her naked breasts from her open lips?

————————————————————————

tag list: @mysteriouslysapphic @opheliauniverse @yourlocaldisneyvillain @notinmyvocab @h-doodles @teeniegreeniebeanie @katie-bennet @willowshadenox @bikergurl5 @renravens

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt. 2

Ball (Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Wasn't really expecting to write arle content so soon but heck i miss writing and school makes me sad :( i have 4 assessments next week. i hate it here. also for @\megistusdiary and @\servalisms who feed me so well <333 love you guys. anyways, following the same concept as the first part here, this is some time after Reader and Arlecchino has made the contract. What do you guys think about this series? Future edit: It's gonna be a blurb, I say. It'll be less than 1k I say. *Looks at the time.* It's 3AM and the finished product is 2.2k words. Again. How do I do this to myself. I'm not calling this a oneshot though because not my greatest quality. Content Warning: Suggestive. semi-graphic descriptions of violence Series Masterlist

It's funny, really, having a demon as your butler. You could never imagine yourself as the type of person to even consider such a notion, and you certainly were not a believer of the supernatural either. Of course, beliefs change and so do mindsets; after all, your worldview was shattered with one singular event. It is that catalyst that has led you down this path. You used to believe that revenge was just a trope, an exaggerated manifestation of pettiness but as you feel it pump through your blood and inject in its veins, revenge is so very palpable. And with the contract, it's graspable, within your reach. It's like a dessert, waiting to be devoured after the main course. And like a dessert, however, in order to really savor it, one must be patient.

It has led you to this point. To a ball, specifically. The preparations have all been laid out, and you know what you your goal from this event is. The only thing left to do is to prepare the final touches and carry out the plan.

For all your meticulous planning, you don't expect yourself to be hindered before you had even gotten to the event. And defeated by a corset dress of all things. You couldn't extend your arms anymore to reach the strings behind your dress. Of course, you have other dresses, but none were as suitable for this event besides this one; this dress is made especially to carry secret compartments for weapons, a feature that none of your other apparels have.

"Arlecchino," you call out to your butler, and within a moment, the air of the room grew considerably colder, alerting you of the demon's sudden appearance. The abrupt chill invokes a chill down your spine and you let out a breathy exhale as you gazed at the mirror in front of you, and could see your servant's form just behind you, her height towering over you. On her face is the usual subtle smirk when she's with you and her red pupils gleamed just slightly.

"You look beautiful, my Lady," she greets with a low drawl although you knew it was out of politeness than admiration. Her irises burn as you could feel it traverse over your exposed back and you can barely suppress the goosebumps that her gaze provoked.

"I didn't summon you here to ogle me, Arlecchino," you say, maintaining a cool tone despite the warmth that bloomed over your bare skin, pricking your senses. A low rumble comes from the being and she leans forward placing her icy black hands over your naked shoulders, fingertips running across the surface smoothly as it slowly nears your collarbone. Her face nears your left ear, her breath cascading against your earlobe.

"Of course. It was simply an observation, my Lady. But, dare I say, you look simply ravishing." The demon whispers against the shell of your ear, her voice adorning the smallest bit of allure in it, and her hands suddenly grip your shoulders as she emphasizes the last word, then relaxing a moment later. Your inhale hitches but no other reaction is displayed outwardly.

"The strings, Arlecchino," you instruct as a distraction away from the soft flaring of your cheeks.

A brief pause as you observe through the mirror the gleam of mischief in the demon's black pits, and her hands move down your shoulder, only the pads of her fingers brushing ghosting over your shoulder blades and yet it feels like the heat from the contact drips down onto your skin. It's a lagging pace, deliberate and feather light as it finally reaches the farthest down string. Prodding fingers caress against your back as she begins maneuvering the strings masterfully, each graze seemingly lingering as it seems like she takes every opportunity to memorize the texture of you on her fingertips. When her painstaking process draws close to its end, she ties the strings together, making it tight enough to make you groan and arch your back from the sting. When you do, she traces a finger up the curvature of your spine.

"Arlecchino," you chastise with a shuddering breath. Hands find themselves on your hips, clawed fingertips faintly digging into you and you're suddenly pulled to her being, chest meeting against your spine.

"You can't possibly fault me for my behavior when you're far too delectable, can you?" She voices against your nape, cold lips just barely hovering over it while you feel hot air stroke against your hair. You shudder. A small ire wells up inside of you and you break from her grasp easily. 

“You know better than to fool around now of all times,” you huff irritably, before spinning around. “Now, are you dressed yet?” 

Your breathing halts once your eyes scan Arlecchino's body. Donning a midnight black tailcoat alongside matching slim trousers, a white button-collared dress shirt with scarlet ruffled cuffs, and finally, a simple jet black necktie. It is not very different compared to her usual apparels, and yet your sight cannot help but stagger over her. She's devilishly handsome, you begrudgingly admit to yourself, objectively pleasant to your view. You get the sense something is missing from her appearance, however, perhaps a mark of yours on her neck. You bite your tongue in reprimand to suppress any more carnal thoughts and you shift your focus away.

“Is it to your liking, my Lady?” A smug smile graces her kissable lips. 

“It's appropriate enough. You're missing something,” You reply back cooly, and you dig around the nearby drawers for the items you search for. Upon finding them, you find ebony gloves and then promptly fling them at the demon's face. They hit squarely, and slide off her mildly shocked expression with a comical, slow pace. It gives you more satisfaction than it should.  

“There,” you remark with a blank expression but a tone matching her prior pomposity. “I suppose you're presentable as my servant now.” 

You brush past her, comforted by the fact her eyes follow your form with each step. 

—

Upon arrival at the ball, it's nearly overwhelming–chatter fills the room and surrounds you at every angle, suffocating you under the noise of whispered gossip. A suited server comes up to you with a glass of some presumed luxurious beverage, no doubt costing a ludicrous amount. You swivel the untouched drink in your hand as you survey other guests, searching for a particular face in general. Arlecchino should be doing something similar right now, if she hasn't already found her target. 

The person you're looking for is no longer to be found, at least in your approximate vicinity. You grind your teeth together and your hand bunches the fabric of your dress in a fist. An advancing man steps into view and strolls towards you, confidence and snobbery exuding from his walking. 

“Would you like a dance, my Lady?” 

You can't help but cringe at the addressment, the term sounding only right from one particular individuial's tongue. But nonetheless, a cordial smile masks your disgust and you agree to it, letting the man lead you to a slow, and quite frankly, boring waltz. His movements are just flamboyanes to cover up his sloppy movements, and it only makes you wonder how a demon can so masterfully practice an art made by humans. During the dance, you try to fish him out of any useful information, but the daft male is incapable of doing anything besides leering at you. 

You could feel at the back of your neck someone else's stare–one that kindles like the flames of hell. You smirk to yourself. Maybe you can use her gaze, taunt her through this. You lean ever so closer, lurching forward to whisper something in his ear and you let his filthy hands wander your form a bit. 

When you finally part from him, enduring one last, disappointing dance, you say your farewells to him. Not out of respect as a dance partner but because you know his life will end in a few minutes. You only hope she remembers to dispose of the body and clean up the evidence. 

You find that she reappears by your side in less than fifteen minutes. It's cute that she does it when you're not in the vicinity, like you don’t already know what she did. How fortunate for you that you've already isolated yourself to a lone balcony when she finds you. Otherwise, people may accuse the two of you as undignified lovers.  

Shortly afterwards, the two of you return to the main location of the ball, and again, you're in search of a certain man. Arlecchino has yet been successful in finding her target and you wander the dance floor once again, though this time, you decline any dance requests. 

Your gaze follows that of a group of men eyeing something, and you trace for what they're looking at. With great irritance, you discover it's the demon that they’re leching over. Something ugly coils in the pit of your stomach, an ugly sensation filling your being the longer you watch their gaze, like a feeling that what they are coveting after is one of your belongings. 

“Arlecchino,” you softly gruff under your breath. You observe from across the large room that her head perks up immediately, reminiscent of how a dog would when its name is called, and without even looking, she steers through the sea of ball-goers towards your direction. 

When she’s finally in front of you, there's an aggravating, knowing grin that Arlecchino fails to hide. “Yes, my Lady?”  

You reach out to tug her necktie to you like a leash and she compliantly lets you pull her face towards you. 

“If people keep leering at you like that, they'll become an inevitable hindrance,” you lie straight through your teeth, hating the way her eyes crinkle in amusement as she sees right through you. The two of you know you're lying.  

“And what are you going to do about it, my Lady?” You should order her to wipe that complacent sneer off of her face, shouldn't you? 

“This,” you give her neck time a harsh yank and your lips brush against her neck, teeth biting her skin and your tongue lapping at the bite mark. It's a quick, stinging action that makes the demon grunt lowly but she's yet to pull away. She wouldn't dare to, not without your instructions. 

You pull away only after a few moments because it's not a mark made out of passion or affection. It’s a mark made out of desperation, out of possessiveness, to remind those who she belongs to and who can touch her. 

“Don't you dare hide it,” you demand, indignation creeping up your words. You release her, and she simply nods, her gloved fingers dabbing the mark. Walking away, you feel strangely content–what was missing from Arlecchino's appearance is there now. 

You call for her one last time during the ball. When you've led the man you were searching for into a private guest room, and you loosen his lips with the suggestiveness of your actions and the alcohol you slip in his hands. The information that spews out to you is useless, the furthest thing to what you desire even when you’ve pushed yourself far past what you'd like. He simply doesn't have what you want, you frustratingly recognize. You've let this man undress you until you're nearly half-naked for nothing. 

At the moment you acknowledge that this entire venture to this ball was for naught, you kick the disgusting man in the face, hard enough to hear a crunch underneath your heel and in his clutched hands, his broken nose bleeds. You sigh and start redressing yourself, thankful at least you didn't allow him to derobe you any further while he chucks insolent expletives and meaningless threats at you. He dares to reach out his hand for you with your back against him and it is then you mutter her name.

“Arlecchino.”

And like every time, she materializes right where you want her to, in between you and the vermin, blocking you from his sight. 

“Yes, my Lady?” She purrs as the man sputters out in shock, tumbling back.

You don't even look over your shoulder to give a command, instead, opting to fix your hair. “Dispose of him.”

There's no need for you to watch the bloodbath. You're familiar with how she kills now. It lasts no more than a few seconds and when you smell soot, you know she's done. You turn around, the last few embers of his body dissipating in the air. There's no remnants of him anymore, the room is spotless clean, except for the smear of blood on her cheek. 

“Don't you demons know how to clean yourselves?” You chastise with an exasperated click of your tongue and extend your hand, your thumb wiping the crimson droplet from her face and then guiding your thumbpad to her lips. Her tongue darts out, and laps up the last trace of him with a deliberate swipe. 

It ignites a blaze in your chest and your heart drums. 

“Take me home, Arlecchino. We're done here.” 

“Of course, my Lady.” 

[ultralightpoe]

Rubies Hidden With Blood -Aemond Targaryen

Authors Note: Hello, thank you for the patience while I am on a writing break. I’m still trying to figure out life and how to fix it, but I channeled some of the pain and anger into this and I hope you like it . I hope you are all staying safe and healthy out there in the world - Ultralightpoe

Warnings: mentions of executions, adultery, foul language

Word Count: 4996

MAIN Master List

Description: Inspired by Anne Boleyn and Elizabeth. (INSPIRED. You are not either of them you’re a character inspired by them)

(Thank you for the gif @onemillionyous )

x Enjoy! x

To Anne Boleyn, who spent the last month of her life preparing for the rest of her daughters life to the best of her ability. Every stitch and warning given was noticed.

And to Elizabeth, who spent the rest of her life hiding footprints for her mother in a home that had tried to strip her memory.

To the bond of the two, never truly understood.

-

You stood, stiff and freezing in the cold weather, on the very steps your mother walked up the day she was executed. A message you were very sure your father intended, one that you would not cave into. 

Verlain, your fathers hand, stood to your right with a grim expression as he did his best to stop looking to the stained spot at the top of the steps. Where her blood had leaked down, seeping into the stone in a mark that would be there forever. It would be centuries before her death would be forgotten, a fact that sent a wave of nausea through you, gripping you in its fierce hold as you tried to inhale some fresh air. Fighting to keep the tears welling in your eyes at bay as the corset constricts against your ribs. 

Breathe. Keep your wits about you. 

“Are you feeling alright, your highness?” Verlain asks, eyebrows pinching together as he watches your hand slide across the front of your dress, as if you could ease the ache in your ribs and lungs from rubbing it. His tone slips at the last two words and you have to bite back the bitter laugh, not willing to risk your breath on it. 

A moon ago you had been nothing more than a bastard to this court, upon his orders. Anyone within earshot of his majesty knew that the forsaken daughter of the castle whore would be painted a bastard the rest of her life. 

The second her body had been carted off he had your handmaiden pack you up, sending you both to an estate far off, so that he would never have to look upon your face again. 

“You haunt me! You plain cunt! You HAUNT ME!” He had yelled the day you begged, the day you crawled to your knees begging him to keep you. Of course you haunted him, you had her face. And whether he had to look upon you or not you were sure she haunted his every move. 

She surely hadn’t visited you since she passed. There were no ghosts in the offwood estate. This castle, however, had more than you could dare keep track of. 

But you hadn’t seen her. Whether you should be thankful for that had yet to be seen. 

“Princess?” Verlain asks again, taking a step up, getting closer as he extends a hand to you. “Prin-“ 

“Don’t call me that.” You sneer, slapping his hand away from you and readjusting the veil that covered your face. Even with your back turned to the spit you could still see her blood on the stone, gulping quickly. Don’t look. Don’t. Look. 

But Verlains eyes cast behind you to the stain, his neck showing an audible gulp before he guiltily looks back to you. “Princess, I never got to speak with you after-“ 

“I’m not your princess.” Your tone was cold, and you made a show of shooing him away. “And you should mind yourself, Lord Verlain. If his majesty catches you this close he might think ill of the intent.”

Verlains face pales, the man stepping back so quickly he nearly slips on the steps before turning back to the courtyard below, fixing his embellished attire. 

You missed being a bastard. A bastard would never be sold off like this. 

There was a war brewing, and many of the kingdoms were beginning to panic for alliances, this kingdom included. And there was one ally that everyone wanted, the seven kingdoms. Westeros. For there was truly no war that could be won against them. 

You’d never seen a dragon, and if this was any under circumstance you would be excited. But this was your very own death march. Or as your mothers own prophet had claimed “you’ll earn your mothers reckoning.” 

There was an ax somewhere out there with your name on it….. or maybe the jaw of a dragon ready to chew you up. 

Before you could much more on it a firm grip snatches the back of your neck, pulling a gasp from you as it pulls you to them aggressively, the smell of wine filling your senses. “You step a foot out of line today and I’ll have your head just like I had your fucking mothers. You hear me, bastard? I’ll spike in on a fucking post.” 

You can only nod, afraid that if you give a verbal response you might whine in pain, and you refuse to show him that weakness. He takes your response, letting go before moving to speak with Verlain as your older sister and little brother stand off to the side. 

The best way to secure an alliance was through marriage. Your older sister couldn’t be married off since she was already married to a lord, and your younger brother was the heir to the kingdom, not to mention the Targaryens didn’t have many girls to marry off. 

But they had Aemond Targaryen, the rumored demon of Westeros, with one eye and the largest dragon. 

So you were renamed a princess, one that would be able to marry a prince. 

Princess of whores being married to a prince of monsters. If your mother could see you now. 

Bile rises up your throat as the memory of her face flashes through your mind, your eyes once again welling with tears. Stop thinking about her. Stop stop stop stop stop.

The heavy sound of thunder pulls your attention, blinking slowly as you try to peer through the veil to see the storm on its way, only to see clear skies. Confusion fills you as your brother gasps loudly, and then you see them, a hoard of dragons filling the skylines as their wings flap in unison . Not thunder, dragons. 

Nausea fills you once more, and yet your mouth goes dry, fists clenching into the heavy skirts of your dress as you spot the older dragon riding in the back, a blur of long white hair flying with it. 

And you know without a doubt, your future husband has arrived. 

- 

“Listen to me.” She sobs, falling to her knees before you as you cry out, the banging on the door scaring you even more than her tears. “You need to listen to me.” 

“Where is papa?!” You scream, your mothers handmaidens rushing around the room as she pulls your face closer to hers by the back of your neck, pressing your foreheads together. 

“Listen. To. Me.” She seethes, wiping your tears with a swipe of her thumb. “Breathe. Keep your wits about you. I need you to remember that these people are not your kin. They are not yours. They will not protect you.” 

“Mama-“ 

“And your father is not- do. Not. Trust. Your. Father.” 

“Mama please-“ 

“You need to remember to breathe. Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And?” 

“Breathe. Keep your wits about you. And…. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. They cannot break me.” 

“Good. Good girl.” She sobs, reaching to kiss your forehead, her lips holding there for a long moment as the door to your mothers apartments break open and the guards storm in. 

The handmaidens pull you back quickly, right as your mother shoves something in the top of your dress before they are on her. There is no gentleness in the way they grab her by her hair and drag her out, and there is no gentleness in the grip the handmaidens keep on you as you claw and bite to get to her. 

By the time they are out of sight there is nothing left but her shoe that had fallen as she was dragged out, and what she had hidden in your dress. 

Your mother had been taken. 

- 

Aemond was sick of the wind, a feeling he never thought he would get and yet it has arrived. He was ready to land, get a break from the beast below his thighs and have a meal that hadn’t been dried and shoved into a satchel last week. 

His mothers boat stayed below them, his eldest sister's dragon taking the lead of their travel in the front as his uncle stuck to her right. Aegon, a spoiled brat through and through, was left in Kings Landing to act as King Regent as Rhaenyra traveled with them. 

Helaena and Jacaerys keeping him in check. 

But his brother had gotten under Aemonds skin just fine before they left, whispering rumors about his future bride in drunken slurs that made him both angry in a protective manner and angry in nervousness that the whispers might be true. 

“They passed her mother around the court like a toy to their whims, and when she was used up they killed her and replaced her with her daughter. You’ll get nothing but a rag dear brother.” 

The kingdom they flew to now had always been secretive within itself, and word rarely left it’s shores. The only thing anyone really knew is they had an army of soldiers that had yet to be conquered, who wore gold armor and spoke in ancient whispers. 

He is snapped out of his haze as Rhaenyra signals to land, and Aemond takes a moment to rejoice in the feeling of his feet on soil, focusing on that the entire hike up to the castle with his mothers arm now looped into his as Vhagar and the ship are left at the docks. 

“Don’t be nervous.” Alicent Hightower whispers, reaching a hand to swipe at his cheek, humming in discontent before licking the pad of her thumb and swiping his cheek once more. He groans, trying to pull back. 

Even if she meant well he knew his mother never understood how painful the skin near his eye was. The scar was always pulling and swollen, not to mention how hard the eye was to clean if the patch moved even the slightest bit. 

“I hear she’s beautiful.” Lucerys offers, keeping close to his own mothers side. “You saw her painting!” 

Indeed Aemond had, and like a lovestruck fool he had stared at it for hours until it was time to go. The very painting now sat in his chambers, waiting to be hung for after the wedding…. If there was to be a wedding. 

His chest tightens as the castle steps come into view, multiple figures dressed in their finest clothes standing among them. 

In the front, in the most ridiculous frille of red and gold, stood the king. A smug smile laced on his features as an overly large crown stands on his head. Beside him with her arms crossed primly was a younger woman, wearing a smaller tiara of red rubies and a busty gown that he was sure Aegon would have leered at, smiling from ear to ear. 

The king and his 5th wife then, and behind him a bit to the left on an upper step, had to be Verlain. The hand to the king. 

Two more figures a bit further up, one clad in a light blue dress, rubbing at her stomach softly as she watched with nothing more than a nervous expression. Making eye contact with Aemond for just a moment before her face goes red and she looks away, disgust at himself rising in his chest. 

What will my future wife think? He wonders, panic clawing at his throat. Will she refuse me? Will I truly be so ugly?

Before he can take a closer look at the boy beside the pregnant woman he looks over to…. You. Standing a little further to the right of the rest, obviously not really knowing where else to go, with a veil covering your face and wearing a gown of black and red. The long petticoat skirts held within your hands, the long bell sleeves barely covering your hands and the cape connected to the back of the dress making you look every bit pristine. 

The first thing he notes is the lack of jewelry. No rings, no crown or tiara, no bracelets. An odd thing since the rest of your family was completely adorned with anything they could find. 

“Queen Rhaenyra.” The king smiles, bowing his head the slightest inch, a fact that has both Aemond and Damon straightening. A slight to Rhaenyra, he was sure. “And her traveling companions. We welcome you.” 

Aemond risks another look to you as Verlain extends a hand to help you descend the stairs. He can’t hear anything of what anyone is saying as he watches you, heart thumping through his chest at your every movement. 

“-and this is my daughter.” The king mumbles out, his tone tightening at the phrase daughter as you bow gracefully, neck going low as you curtsy need to Rhaenyra then greet the rest of the party in correct order. Before he could say anything you lift the veil and his breath catches. 

The oil painting did you no Justice. And within moments he found himself yearning to trace his fingers over your cheek as he had done to the painting to see how the softness would compare. 

“And this is my brother, Aemond Targaryen. First of his name, rider of the great Vhagar and-“ 

“It is an honor.” The king interrupts Rhaenyra, your cheeks tinging with blush as your jaw tightens. You must know your father is being disrespectful then, and at least one of you has the decency to be embarrassed. 

“As much as I love flattery,” he begins, not tearing his eyes from you. “I’d prefer if you showed my sister more respect. Last person to disrespect her so had his head sliced through the middle.” 

Daemon has the audacity to check his nails for dirt as Rhaenyra sends him a knowing look, his mother tightening her hold on his elbow in approval before moving to you. 

“It is an honor to meet you.” She holds out both hands, which you calmly place your own above as you watch her, and Aemond sees the skepticism glint in them. The narrowing of them as your nose scrunches. “Your beauty was surely understated. Don’t you agree Aemond?” 

“Indeed. But to be fair I don’t think any painting or letter would ever do you justice.” You don’t say anything, merely bow your head in feigned shyness while the crowned woman behind you speaks up. 

“They say she has her mothers complexion.” She giggles loudly, and your spine tightens quickly. “May the child be blessed with the one good thing about her-“ 

“You’ve had a long journey. I’m sure your hungry and we still some final touches on this alliance. I trust you find my daughter to your liking?” There that tone is again, like he is disgusted to call you his daughter. 

“Of course. We accept the marriage proposal, let’s feast and forge out the rest of the details.” Rhaenyra nods, allowing Daemon to help her up the stairs as the king leads them inside. 

Aemond is torn between offering his mother his arm or you, desperate to touch you but not wanting to seem like the type to leave his mother. 

Lucerys is there, offering his arm and drawing the first actual smile from you, a wave of anger filling Aemond at the sight. “Might I escort you to dinner?”

“You may escort me up the stairs, but unfortunately it would be improper for me to join dinner.” His mother snaps her attention to that, watching you as closely as Aemond already had been while Lucerys leads you up the steps. 

They both watch as you look in the opposite direction of where you are walking, keeping your face turned away from one particular spot. 

“Is that…. Blood?” His mother gasps, and Aemond can do nothing but stare at the large stain of it, blinking slowly as the sun hits the dial at the top of the staircase. 

It was clear that this had been set up as a stage at some point, the message still stained into the earth. 

He doesn’t answer his mother, instead he helps her up the steps as he follows the rest of the group. 

-

He was angry. It was the only thing he could register, the anger. The rest of it was numb, the blade that took his eye had made sure of it. No love, no happiness, no remorse. He just felt anger. 

It burnt through his throat until he had no choice but to scream, tore through his chest like acid as he raged to relieve some of it, his sword swinging at anything he could. 

The posts on his bed were the first to have been attacked, the broken canopy it once held brutalized and torn in the corner. The desk was next and he even took a hot poker from the fire to shatter the mirror in one swift move. 

Every move was sheer force, every yell was an attempt to ease him, every slam of his fist and kick of his feet an instinct he could not fight. 

Where was the justice? 

People avoided looking at him now, whispers following him everywhere he went. Females outwardly laughed and gasped at him, acting as if he was a demon that had clawed from the shadows.

“Aemond.” Alicent tries, her hands folded against her dress as she watches her son rage within the walls of his room, feeling useless. He was in pain and there was nothing she could do. “Aemond please.” 

“I DONT WANT TO BE HERE! THEY THINK IM A MONSTER!” 

“Aemond-“ 

“KILL ME! KILL ME KILL ME KILL ME!” He rages, picking up the sword once more as she takes a step back, the tears falling from her eyes. She knows he would never, he was forged from steel itself, but the fear consumes her as she calls for Cole. Sobbing. 

“Help him.” She pleads, hearing the old dragon roar in the distance as Aemond shatters under the pressure. 

“It hurts.” The boy sobs, falling into the glass of his once mirror. “It won’t stop hurting!”

Cole nods, without a word he heaves the boy up, dragging him out and across the glass until they clear the room. His grip is brutal, even Aegon tries to stop them when they pass him in the hall. 

“Where are you taking my brother?” He snaps, standing straight, the soberest Aemond has ever seen him. 

But Cole doesn’t answer, and when Aemond trips the armor pinches into his skin as he is hefted back up until they make it to the training yard. 

“You want to die? Earn it.” Cole snaps, picking up a sword. He doesn’t warn his strike, Aemond barely has a second to dodge as the blade swipes at him, falling to the mud quickly. 

The wetness of it seeps into his clothes, staining them as his fingers dig in to crawl to the weapons to defend himself. 

He remembers the feel of the earth in that moment, latching on to that anger once more as he stands to fight.

- 

You weren’t allowed at the feast, a fact that Aemond finds suspicious as his Uncle moves around the room with his hand on his sword ready for an attack, making eye contact with each servant there. Everyone was on edge, this entire ordeal one that screams trap. 

“Might I ask why the bride will not be joining us?” Rhaenyra breaks the silence, fixing herself in the chair given, nodding to the rest of her party to sit as well. 

“After the events of her mother…. It’s better if she doesn’t join us.” The king answers, casting a look to Daemon. “She mourns her mother. Taken too soon from an illness.” 

The air around them turns pungent, the sign of a lie fallen flat. Lucerys casts him a side look, his thick eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the king raises a glass to toast. 

“To the blessed union of our families.” Everyone raises their own glasses before taking a sip, but not Aemond, he sets his glass down and looks around the room some more while the conversation is struggling to be picked back up. 

“Those are lovely pearls.” Alicent tries, doing her best to ease some of the tension. 

“Oh thank you.” The young queen giggles, leaning forward. “It’s out of fashion out here ever since-“ 

The king slams his hand upon her own, a bang emanating from the wood. She flinches, but tries to smile through it and Aemond feels a rage fill him as he imagines you having to do the same thing before. Is that why you chose not to eat with them?

“Pearls are…. Out of fashion out here.” Your sister fills in the silence, “the woman at the court tend to avoid them.” 

“Speaking of.” Verlain smiles. “I have some things packed and ready to be transported. Gifts from the royal family to yours as a part of the arrangement. To be presented on the wedding day.” 

“I just hope there will be room for all of us aboard that ship of yours.” The king smiles, though Aemond sees right through it. 

“I can assure you it’s quite big. What a lonely ride it was here, while the others rode dragons. I am looking forward to the company on the way back. I do hope the bride fares well in the sea.” 

“I believe my sister to be excited for it.” The pregnant once smiles, the first real smile from this table. 

Aemond says nothing, picking up his goblet and draining the liquid in one easy go. Even the wine here tasted shit. Lucerys laughs under his breath when a pig is set on the table and when Aemond turns to glare thinking the jest is to him he finds that the young queen was using her cutlery to check her appearance. 

He leans closer, Lucerys following his lead. “I hope that my future bride is not too attached to her family. For if I have to spend a second past the wedding with them I might just-“ 

Alicent slaps his shoulder quickly, making him sit up as Lucerys snickers. Whether he got to finish his sentence or not the message had been delivered. 

- 

She spent the last month of her life trapped in a tiny room, with nothing but a bed and a small window barred to keep her in. Her chamber pot was changed once a week and she was allowed one handmaiden. 

But she tried not to let it craze her, pouring herself into preparations for the future ahead of her. Everyday followed the same routine. 

In the morning she was brought to a chapel within the castle where the minister would pray with her, and every morning he would ask her if she had any sins she’d like to pray forgiveness for. She never did, for she remained adamant that she did nothing wrong. And she could withstand the scalding look the man gave her each time for his opinion did not matter, she knew her truth. 

She spent the days seeing, ordering dresses and adjusting them. Day after day. Ordering dress after dress, a small gift her lord husband had allowed her. If she were to die then at least she would die well dressed. 

But the dresses weren’t for her, she didn’t pour over every stitch for herself and she didn’t hem each one to perfection for her own vanity, for she knew the second this was over for her that her daughters life would be ruined. 

She would prepare as much as she could for her daughter, she was a mother and she would not fail her even in her last moments. 

Meanwhile you begged and pleaded for her back, crying into your sisters arms as she held you, rocking you back and forth. 

Your father hadn’t come to see you since she was taken, and you weren’t allowed at court, soon enough even your sister was denying visits. Left alone with your handmaiden until the fateful day. 

Verlain, one of your fathers men, came to the door and excitement filled you when you saw him. He had always been so kind and often stole sweets for you when no one was looking, but that morning he didn’t smile. 

“I thought she might want one more friendly face with her.” He explains to the handmaiden, who has tears in her eyes as she nods. She pulls you away and prepares you, lacing your corset and dressing you in black before taking your hand and leading you through the halls. 

“Are we going to see-“ 

“Shhh. Don’t say a word.” Verlain warns, trying to keep his voice soft. “Not today little lamb.” 

You nod, reaching to grab his hand as well as they lead you to the courtyard. You remain in the back, with a good view of the steps, still holding both their hands. 

Your mothers group of handmaidens stood to the side of the steps, all looking worried and most with tears falling down while someone hisses at Verlain. 

“You brought her kin?!” 

“The king demanded she be here.” Verlain answers back, something like grief crossing his face. “To witness.” 

And witness you did. 

You remember it well, the silent scream that clogged your throat and the way you tried running for her. You had fallen when Verlain pulled you back, your fingers digging into the mud as you tried to crawl to her with all your strength as the blood poured down. 

After you had been dragged, kicking and screaming, to your chambers you’d been thrown in by the guards. The first person allowed access to come and see you had been your mothers main handmaiden, one you hadn’t seen at the execution, who you would later learn had reported your mother falsely. 

She did not hug you, she did not coddle you. The only thing she asked was “your mothers necklace? Have you any idea where she hid it?” 

You told her no, still crying, feeling betrayed. 

She left soon after. 

A week after that you were forced to kneel before your father as he stripped you of your title and your lineage. “You are her daughter and nothing more. A bastard in the eyes of the faith and the crown.” 

You sobbed and begged him not to, crying over and over “papa!” 

He screamed at you, slapping you across the cheek so hard you sprawled across the stone. 

That night, your last night in the castle, you sat by a singular burning candle as an unknown phantom gently traced the bruise, singing softly to you as you waited for your mother to appear to you. 

If there was anyone who would use your gift you were sure it would be her. 

But she never came, and you were sent away, and soon the castle was scrubbed of her memory.

- 

Your last night there was spent exactly the same as years ago, a fresh bruise adorning your cheek from your fat- his majesty, and you sitting by a candle and waiting for her. Silently pleading for her ghost to appear. 

“Come on mother.” You whisper, waiting. “Just one more time before I meet you in the afterlife. Please.” 

She does not show, and when the sun begins to rise you are escorted from your rooms down to the docks were your luggage was being loaded. 

“Is this all you have?” Lucerys, the name he introduced himself with yesterday, asks and you nod. 

“Not much is provided for Basta- for brides to be.” He takes your lie, smiling before you curtsy and allow him to run and catch up with his mother and father. 

“I hope you will be okay with entertaining my mother for the journey.” An even voice fills the silence, your heart lunging through your chest as you turn to see the prince. You thought he was gorgeous, desperate to reach a hand out and see what was under the patch. 

You refrained of course. 

He, however, seemed unable to control himself as he brought a hand up to the bruise on your cheekbone. His fingertips tracing over it ever so lightly. 

“How does he have black hair?” You ask, desperate to get the topic away from your cheek before it can even start. 

“It’s…. A long story.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Might I escort you to your chambers on the boat.” 

He holds out a hand for you to take, and for a moment a pitch of fear fills you. Don’t look don’t look don’t look. 

But you can’t stop yourself from turning to those steps, and seeing the blood among them for the last time. Once you’re gone that’s all that will be left of her memory, and that tears a hole through your soul. 

She shouldn’t have to be alone here, but you were sure that you would find her soon enough, there was no way you would ever survive the Targaryens. It was the only reason your father would ever bother to accept this at all. 

So, ignoring the white haired god beside you, you turn fully to the steps and bow properly. “Until we meet again.” 

Your tears sink into the dirt, in the exact spot you once crawled, and when a breeze hits your cheek you can do nothing but lift your head to see her. Standing at the top of the steps, bowing back to you. 

Tears fall quicker, and your throat stings from it as you turn to grab the princes still outstretched hand, and as the last remnants of the second queen fade the last memory of her is lead away to the docks, clutching the lost necklace tightly in the pocket of a dress she once sewed. 

And you know, that just as your mother once did, you would meet your fate with your head held high. 

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. They cannot break me. 

But you hadn’t quite known what Kings Landing had in store for you, no one had expected it really.

(It's been a minute since I wrote something like this and this is the first time in months that writing hadn't felt like a chore. I hope you enjoy it!)

Part 2.... maybe?

[velocesainz]

Can i have corset, trench coat with Sun hat and gloves

For Lewis

A/n: Thank you for your order! Hope you enjoy

Cute Enemy

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: reader used to drive for Mercedes and now drives for the rival team red bull. At her time in Mercedes she wasn’t the closest with Lewis and now with her in red bull Lewis has to get her attention somehow so he’s mean to her and act like they are enemies.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x driver! Reader

Warnings: smut mdni, cursing

Order receipt:

Corset: Oh you don’t think it’ll fit? Cute, I’ll make it fit

Trench coat: You can’t escape from me

Sun hat: enemies to lovers

Gloves: Rough sex

Reader pov:

I was making my way to the re bull garage after entered the paddock hoping to avoid media.

I made my way around sneakily when I heard a voice which caused me to jump

“Sneaking around rival teams are we now l/n? Didn’t think you and your team could be more pathetic” Lewis’s voice snarked out

“Watch your mouth Hamilton, I was trying to avoid media. Besides I don’t need your team secrets, your car is so shit I don’t think it qualifies as an f1 car” I snarled back and left

Lewis pov:

I watched y/n walk away after the little encounter we had

All of these small little encounters with her never failed to make my heart flutter. She was beautiful and I wanted her to be mine.

I didn’t really know how to approach her when she was my teammate as I was shy and nervous but with her move to red bull I couldn’t even observe her at meetings or around the garage

So to get her attention I decided to be mean to her. It sounds wrong I know but I don’t know how else to get her attention.

After that I went back to the garage to get ready for fp3 and qualifying that was later today

Reader pov:

I really don’t know what hamiltons problem is. When I was his teammate, he refused to talk to me and now that I’m his rival he suddenly starts throwing insults at me.

I really wished he liked me more.

Truth is I’ve been in love with him for quite a while but he never talked to me so I knew the feelings weren’t reciprocated.

I went about fp3 ending up first again like fp2 and fp3

If I qualified pole today I had a really good chance of a grand slam this weekend

I got congratulated by my team and was going over some data when I felt some eyes on me

“Hey Max what’s up?”

“Nothing really, just wondering what’s up between you and Lewis”

“What do you mean? I told you, we never talked as teammates and now he decides to be a real piece of shit and curse me out every single time we see eachother”

“Mhmm sure that’s what you think”

“Huh? Max what was that? Hey! Don’t leave me hanging here!” I said as he ran out the garage

Timeskip:

I had qualified pole got the fastest lap and led every single damn lap of the race

My first f1 grand slam was complete

I finished interviews and walked into my drivers room to change and head to the bar to celebrate with the team

As soon as I entered my drivers room I was pinned by a strong muscular figure

“Quit wriggling around will you?”

I froze, it was Lewis. I wriggled even more

“Stop it! You can’t escape from me. You’re helpless.”

“All these years I was scared to even talk to you and now that I’ve got the courage I’m going to fuck huh like I should’ve all those years ago”

With that he kisses me deeply with immense passion

I kissed back and he started working on removing my race suit

He pushed me against my plush couch and ripped my undershirt off

“My my, look at you. Such a hot mess all for me”

I quickly worked on removing his pants and shirt

After removing his boxers I came face to face with his huge cock. My eyes widened. How is that going to fit inside me?

“L-Lewis I don’t that will fit inside me”

“Oh you don’t think it’ll fit? Cute. I’ll make it fit darling”

With that he ran his finger down my slit and rubbed his cock with my juices

He lined himself up and shoved his cock straight into my pussy

I screamed at the hugeness of his cock and feeling of being stuffed to the brim

He didn’t give me time to adjust and kept thrusting in and out at an inhumane speed

“A-ah Lewis I can’t take much more of this”

“Oh darling I never asked for what you can and can’t do. I will make you do whatever I want and you have no power in this situation”

Lewis continually thrusted in me causing me to climax quickly and cum all over his cock

After a while of me screaming from being overstimulated, he slowly reached his high, thrusts getting sloppier and deeper

He came in me with a loud groan

“Goddamn darling, you sure look good when you’re fucked dumb”

A/n: hello lovelies! Hope you enjoyed this fic, I promise more are soon to come! Do keep requesting, I really cannot come up with ideas anymore. I have about 8 more fics lined up after this so stay tuned! As always leave your feedback! Kissies ✨

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Shrinking Violet (Rhysand Smut)

Hi! Happy Friday, my loves! I impulsively wrote this first thing this morning. Don’t exactly know what came over me but I thought I would share it 😏

Also, I’m using my updated General ACOTAR Tag List for the tags, so if you’re not on it and you wish to be, please click the link and comment so I can add you! ♥️

Warnings: Smut, of course! Enjoy!

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The violet-shaded dress had seemed like a good idea at the time. A time when you’d felt daring and mischievous and like you could do whatever the fuck you wanted. 

Now, with a tight-lipped servant tugging your corset strings as you stared yourself down in the mirror, your audacious nature was refusing to rear its head, scattered to the ashes by nerves. 

“I wish to have a gown the exact shade of Rhysand’s eyes.”

Rina, your good friend and the Hewn City’s most reputable seamstress, had looked up at you from the various sketches on her dress. She was snowed-under with orders with the upcoming event — Rhysand’s first visit as High Lord of the Night Court. It was nothing short of a damn coronation.

“Are you sure you should?” Rina had raised an eyebrow at you. The look she always got when you were up to something. “He’s High Lord, now. Things are different. Should you truly make a statement with your gown that most certainly won’t go unnoticed?”

“Should I not?” You’d spun around, palming the various fabrics that made up an entire wall at the back of the studio. “High Lord he may now be, but I know Rhysand more personally. I wish to have a violet gown that is an ode to those depthless eyes.”

Rina had shook her head, but said no more on the matter. You were paying — well, your father was — and you had a design in mind. That was that. She’d known you long enough to know that there was no talking you down from an elaborate idea.

Besides. Besides, besides, besides. You did know Rhysand more personally. 

More personally, in the form of him secretly fucking you in the darkest corners of the Hewn City, when he had just been the High Lord’s handsome son, learning the ways of the court. You were his filthy little secret, someone he would never display publicly on his arm. Would never think of you beyond the haze of lust that clouded him. Perhaps that was what the dress was secretly about. Capturing his attention.

Things had changed dramatically since he’d last had you pressed against a wall, a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans as he’d pounded into you. He was always ravenous for you behind closed doors and totally different in the open. A game — it was a game the two of you played.

But he was High Lord, now. You were excited to see what that looked like. 

Violet gown, indeed. You smoothed your hands over the tight bodice as the servant stepped away. As the daughter of a member of the Night Court council, you would be expected to look every bit the rich, expensive, pretty subject who would bat her eyes at the new High Lord and offer polite well-wishes for his future. 

While wearing a gown so tight it was like a second skin, the very daring shade of his eyes. 

Anything to keep those eyes on you.

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Rhysand had been trained for this, of course. Right down to the finest detail. Any outsider looking in would presume him to have been High Lord for far longer than a matter of months. There was something effortlessly arrogant about the way he lounged on his obsidian throne, one leg hooked over the arm, a chalice of wine in his hand that was constantly being topped up. 

He was the centre of attention, and he was loving every second of it. 

You’d never seen the instating of a new High Lord. Rhysand’s father had been on that throne for your entire life, until he’d gone and gotten himself killed. And now…now it was time for a fresh face. One with a feline smirk and a lilting voice behind it that sounded like music. 

You knew precisely what that voice sounded like when he was close to falling off the edge. 

You hadn’t yet spoken to him or caught his gaze. The evening’s proceedings had been fine-tuned to run smoothly; food and drink and music and dancing. Now, a long line of people queued up to the dais, forcing Rhysand to listen to the same sentence on a loop with every person who knelt before him. 

I welcome you, High Lord, and pledge my allegiance to you as your loyal subject. 

The words had become a monotonous drone. You wanted to spin around in your violet gown and make a show of yourself and catch the High Lord’s gaze. You wanted to be adventurous and fun, just like you and Rhys had always secretly been. 

Your father went before you, prattling off the same oath as those who’d gone before him. He and Rhys exchanged pleasantries, and Rhys’s voice seemed to snake past your father and round to you, caressing every bit of your skin that was on show. The sound was like silk. You wanted to tear your dress off and wrap it around your naked body. 

After what seemed like an eternity, your father was stepping aside and leaving you to wander up to the dais. Feline eyes met yours, the exact shade of your gown that felt suddenly too tight and too hot on your body. You gave a polite acknowledgement to the two Illyrians at the High Lord’s side — Azriel and Cassian — before you offered a flourishing bow.

“I welcome you, High Lord, and pledge my allegiance to you as your loyal subject.” You spoke, your voice slightly lowered. Just for him. 

Rhys’s eyes slowly studied every inch of you, starting at your hair, your painted face, the heavy jewellery that complimented the column of your neck and the lobes of your ears. And then they flicked down to the gown, studying the beaded detail. The way it sinfully clung to your body before flaring around you in layers of violet tulle. 

Heat flashed across those eyes, and you knew — he’d clocked exactly what you’d done.

“Good evening.” He drawled, his head falling on a tilt. His hungry gaze roved you once more. “And what have you come as?”

A subtle smirk tugged at your painted lips. “A shrinking violet.”

The High Lord tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. You wanted to drag it between your teeth, too. 

“There’s nothing shrinking about you, darling.” He purred. He took your hand in his, brushing his lips to the backs of your fingers. “Enjoy your night.”

A dismissal. A teasing one. It was all part of the game. His eyes fell to your gown again, and you spared him one last glance before flouncing away to dance. 

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You liked this game — yours and Rhysand’s.

Dark, shaded alcoves and long, winding corridors, perfect for a session of cat-and-mouse. Huge, unoccupied rooms, the walls of which volleyed your moans back and forth. You’d played the game a hundred times before, and you wanted to play it tonight. 

The party was unending, and so was the flowing wine. All part of the game. When Rhys had merely been the High Lord’s son, his apprentice, the two of you had always waited until everyone was gloriously intoxicated before you would share a heated glance and slip away — you first, and him following moments later. 

The night had reached that point. The frenzied music had become languid and sensuous, the bodies on the dance floor grinding against each other. Not one person in that throne room was sober. And so you set your drink aside. 

You strolled casually past the dais, shrugging out of the numerous dances people tried to pull you into. Rhys’s gaze seemed to find you immediately, and as you passed in front of him, you met his eyes and dipped your chin. The signal. The game was starting. 

But he was High Lord, now. Far more scrutinised and important. Perhaps he wouldn’t follow. Perhaps he was done with your antics—

Mere moments passed between you slipping into an empty corridor and the door opening behind you. A smirk played on your lips. You lifted the skirts of your gown. Kicked your heels off. And ran. 

Your feet slapped against the cold concrete floor as you sprinted away from Rhys. A dark, lilting chortle echoed behind you, and his pace picked up as ran after you. 

You were light as a feather, weightless as a cloud, shoving through doors and empty rooms, skidding along polished floors, climbing huge, ornate staircases. Rhys was always a few steps behind, and you knew he could easily catch up if he wanted to. But he savoured the chase as much as you did. 

You flew up another grand staircase, up and up to the very top of the gargantuan building. You knew precisely what you were doing, and so did Rhys. You took a left, veered down a long corridor. A dead-end. The door at the end led to an enclosed room.

“Where do you suppose you’ll go now, little violet?” Rhys called behind you, his breaths heavy. “I do believe I’ve caught you.”

Indeed, he had. You laughed wildly and opened your mouth to retort, but your already-huffing breaths were stolen from you as his body smacked into yours from behind, slamming you against the door. The wood groaned as he pressed his front to your back. The evidence of his arousal was already waiting for you. 

“Got you.” He hummed into your ear, his nose brushing your neck. “Now, what’s my prize?”

You bit down on your lip as he pushed his groin against you. “Your prize is whatever you wish it to be.”

“Excellent.”

He reached past you, opening the door to that unoccupied, echoing room. His hand splayed over the bodice of your dress, keeping your body flush to his as he walked you both inside. 

“I think I would have you against the wall.” His hand travelled down, fisting in the skirts of your gown. “Or perhaps on the writing bureau. Or the chaise lounge. Tell me, which would take your fancy?”

“Why not all of them?” You bit down on your bottom lip as his hand finally found a way under the fabric, skirting your thigh. 

“Naughty, wicked thing. Why not, indeed.”

You were suddenly being spun in his arms to face him, and there was barely a chance for your eyes to meet before he was claiming your lips with a scorching kiss and backing you towards the wall. Your back hit it with a light thud, and Rhys was boxing you in, settling his knee between your legs and very deliberately pressing it against the very centre of you. 

“You know,” he purred as he broke the kiss. “My father used to tell me to stay far away from you. He said that I should find a female fit to pop out heirs. That females like you like to play games.”

You sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed your neck. Crawled downwards. “Your father would be right about that.”

“Hmm.” He hummed. “But, you see, I like to play games, too. And the bastard is dead now. I am High Lord. Your High Lord. And I’m feeling mighty playful tonight.”

His knee pressed harder against your soaked underwear, and a soft moan slipped past your lips. 

“So play,” you said. 

Rhys struck. 

In a flash, he was sinking to his knees before you. Like you were his High Lady. He lifted the skirts of your gown, throwing them over his head. The sight of him disappearing beneath the fabric might have been amusing had his nose not nudged against your centre, causing you to jerk. 

“Now this,” he yanked your underwear down, blowing a breath against your slick folds, “this is a feast fit for a High Lord.”

His silver, sinful tongue licked a stripe right up you, and your head fell back against the wall, a loud moan breaking free of your throat. Rhys wasted no time in feasting on you. He licked and lapped, his teeth grazing your clit, and you imagined what he must look like beneath your skirts, his face flushed and soaked with your wetness. 

“I love your taste.” He groaned against you, sucking on your clit. “You have no fucking idea how much.”

Perhaps not. But you could hazard a pretty good guess just how much as he damn near devoured you, bringing you to the very brink of bliss. When he heard your moans and breaths hitching in your throat, felt your hips jutting forward, he sank two fingersinto you. 

“Gods,” You gasped, writhing against him, against the wall. Your mind fractured into a thousand tiny pieces as your release slammed into you. Your legs shook.

Rhys licked and pumped all through it, enjoying every moment, every gasp and groan. Only when your walls ceased their contracting around his fingers did he pull away. 

He emerged from beneath the fabric, his hair tousled, his eyes heated. His mouth swollen and glistening. One look at him, and you were fisting your hand around the front of his perfectly-tailored jacket, yanking him to his feet. 

You wanted to taste him just as he had tasted you, but he stopped you from lowering yourself to your knees. His hand grasped your clothed breast, and he kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

You were bored of the dress, now. Pretty as it was, just like his eyes, it was too much of a barrier. You tried to reach behind you for the laces—

“No.” Rhys nipped your lip, staying your hand. “I want you to wear it while I fuck you.”

Your eyes flared. “As you wish.” You glanced down at his lips. “High Lord.”

A guttural groan escaped him, and the tether on his control snapped. The following moments were a confusing, heady circus of heavy kisses and panting into each others mouths, both your hands fighting to undo the laces and buttons of his trousers. As soon as they were loosened enough, he was shoving them to the floor. 

“I think about you, you know.” Rhys said, hissing between his teeth as you wrapped your hand around his length. “I come to the thought of you. How do you manage to make a mess out of me without even being there?”

“Because I wish it to be so.” You squeezed gently. “And so it is.”

“Wicked, wicked creature.”

You silenced him with a kiss as you pumped his cock, savouring the feel of it twitching in your palm, jerking at the very brush of your touch. Rhys emitted a growl, and he was batting your hand away, replacing it with his own.

“If I don’t get inside you,” he dragged the head of his cock through your slick folds, “I think I may bring this city down around us.”

His eyes held a promise to do exactly that, and as the head nudged at your entrance, he grabbed the back of your neck, sliding his lips over yours.

The tip had barely slipped in before thudding footsteps approached, and a knock was pounding on the door. Rhys growled beneath his breath. Ignored it. Pushed into you further. You gasped. 

“Rhys.” Cassian’s voice came from the other side. 

“Not now, Cassian.” Rhys thrust into you, right to the hilt, giving a very audible grunt. 

“You’ve been gone for too long.” The Illyrian general persisted. “People are starting to notice.”

“Not fucking now, Cassian.” 

He pulled out to the tip, his angry words breathed against your mouth. You swallowed them greedily as he thrust right back into you once more, a slight pinch of pain within the pleasure that wrangled a loud moan from your throat.

There was a pause on the other side of the door, a curse — Cassian muttering “Cauldron fucking boil me” — before his footsteps retreated once more.

“Look at you,” you nipped Rhys’s lip. “Keeping your loyal subjects waiting.”

“I am.” He shifted, slamming into you again. “For you.”

Your response because lost amongst the pleasure as Rhys fastened his hand at your hips and lifted you from the floor. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded deeply. “And hold on.”

You did just that, your legs locking around his waist, your arms around his neck. Rhys pressed his head against your shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin there. 

And he fucked.

“Gods, you feel exquisite.” He groaned, slamming into you harder, faster. “I could spend the rest of my existence buried inside you.”

You moaned, your head falling back. You felt his tongue against the column of your neck. “That seems like a foolish way for a High Lord to spend his time.”

“Nothing about this is foolish.”

He was damn right about that. Words eddied away from your tongues, the room being filled with moans and grunts and gasps and screams. Rhys filled you so utterly, so completely, that you couldn’t imagine anyone else being able to do so. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He grit out, reaching down to circle his thumb against your clit. “I wish you could see yourself right now. Coming undone for me. Coming on my cock.”

“Fuck, Rhys.” You gasped. They were the only words you were able to get out before he sent you hurtling over the edge. 

The fall of your second climax was euphoric, addictive. You were hot and cold, asleep and awake, present and absent, lost somewhere in the ether. Your moans filled the room, perhaps the whole building, the entire city, as your walls clenched his cock hard, his thumb continuing the ministrations to your clit. 

Rhys’s thrusts picked up, the pace frenzied and desperate. You could feel him tightening inside you, hear his breaths and grunts hitching in his throat, the pleasure furrowing his brow. You purposefully clenched around him once more, and he lost it.

“Gods!” He roared, stifling the sound with a hungry kiss to your lips. His hips stilled abruptly, and he was spilling into you, every last drop filling you.

It seemed like ages that he spent moaning and groaning and whining, emitting needy little noises, drawing out a few more languid thrusts despite having emptied himself entirely into you. He was completely at your mercy. Undone by you.

He was your High Lord, and yet tonight, you had ruled him. 

He was still breathing heavily as he pulled out of you. His eyes locked with yours, and a strange, indiscernible expression crossed his face.

“Come back to Velaris with me.” He breathed. 

You snorted. This was all part of the game, the continued teasing. You liked that a lot. 

“Would you give me a crown?” You jibed.

Rhys’s eyes glittered. “Only if I could fuck you in it.”

You smirked, toying with the lapels of his jacket. “And what of your throne? Would you fuck me on there?”

“I would fuck you in every last corner of my city. Over and over until my people have committed our moans to memory.”

Such a poetic, silver-tongued male. Your smirk remained as you let go of him, but he was having none of it. He clutched you against him.

“Come back to Velaris with me.” He repeated. 

You smiled vaguely. “No.” 

“You could live however your heart desires. We could play there, too.”

Your laughter was light, airy. You pushed him off, squirming out of his grasp. “Such pretty words.”

His hand caught yours, and he pressed it to his chest. “Come back to Velaris with me.”

“No.” You said again. 

You smirked at him, and he smirked back. And as you leaned in, he slammed his eyes shut, bracing himself for your kiss. 

You didn’t deliver. You merely swiped your thumb over his lips, erasing the evidence of you ever having been there. 

“Until next time,” you hummed. “High Lord.”

You finally pushed around him, smoothing your dress as you passed, your bare feet padding on the floor. 

“This is inconvenient.” Rhys called as you braced your hand on the door handle. 

You glanced over your shoulder. “What’s that?”

“I am your High Lord. But hearing you call me such makes me desperate to bury myself deep inside you again.”

A soft trill of a laugh left you, and you turned your back on him, opening the door. “Don’t be greedy.”

You stepped out without looking back. That was how this wicked, glorious thing between you went. The best thing you could do to not make it hurt so much when he ignored you before his subjects. Rhys being High Lord hadn’t changed that. Nor had it taken away the mischievous, playful male with honeyed words that you knew him to be. But walking away like that, you had the power.

His laughter followed you down the hall, and you smirked one more.

High Lord, indeed. 

You both knew his control had been obliterated at the first sight of you in that violet dress. 

A gown the exact shade of Rhysand’s eyes.

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