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charliedawn · 10 months ago

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"Marry me."

How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.

Sandor Clegane:

"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.

"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.

"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.

"No."

"Ah."

"…"

"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.

"Sure."

He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."

There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.

Oberyn Martell:

"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:

"No."

He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.

"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."

He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.

"…Really ?"

He chuckled.

"Yes. Really."

He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.

"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"

You sighed before closing your eyes.

"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"

Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"

Tyrion Lannister:

"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.

"What ?"

Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.

"…Why ?"

Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.

"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.

"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"

"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.

"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.

"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.

"Because I am not a good man."

You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.

"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."

Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.

"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"

He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?

Jaime Lannister:

"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.

"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.

So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.

"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"

That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.

"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"

That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.

"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"

"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.

"Then I will give you whatever you want."

In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.

The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.

"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.

Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :

"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.

He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.

"Why ?"

You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?

"Does it matter ?"

He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.

"Depends. What will it bring me ?"

You looked away.

"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."

He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.

"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"

You hesitated before sighing in defeat.

"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."

At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.

"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."

Sansa Stark:

You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.

"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"

Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.

"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.

"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.

She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.

"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."

You smiled and shook your head.

"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."

Sansa smiled back.

Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.

Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)

"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.

"What ?"

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.

When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."

You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.

Daenerys:

"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.

But, marriage ?

Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.

She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.

"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.

"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.

Ser Jorah:

"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.

"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…

"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.

"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…

Ser Jorah accepted.

After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.

#sandor clegane x reader #ser jorah x reader #daenerys x reader #jon snow x reader #tyrion lannister x reader #littlefinger #petyr baelish x reader #sansa stark x reader #oberyn martell x reader #jaime lannister x reader #got characters x reader #fandoms #imagine #got

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amhrosina · 1 year ago

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Love Bites

Summary: Your complicated relationship with Miguel is pushed beyond the usual bounds when you ask him to give in to his deepest desire.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: i'm unashamed to announce that all i thought about when Miguel was on that giant movie screen was writing a fic where Miguel bites reader...........clearly i was team edward.

warnings: porn with some plot, mostly just porn though, p in v sex, Miguel is sort of a grump, undefined relationship between reader and Miguel, biting kink???, mentions of blood, etc.

“Shhh, baby.” Miguel cooed, pressing his hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpering moans. “You’re taking me so well, honey. Y’just have to be a little quieter.”

You could barely hear him, so caught up in the pleasure of having him deep inside you that his voice was a gentle murmur in the back of your mind. You were on the verge of, yet another, orgasm at the hands of Miguel, who was currently thrusting into you so hard you were sure you’d go flying off his desk if he didn’t have a firm grip on your hip.

“No one’s here, Miguel.” You whined, albeit a little quieter than before, and muffled from the hand he still pressed against your lips. “They all went home hours ago. We’re the only ones crazy enough to still be working this late.”

Was this still considered working? You’d been going at it for at least an hour.

“You don’t know that.” He emphasized his words with a harsh thrust, seducing a rather loud whine from your throat. “Stop that.”

As annoyed as he probably sounded, you knew he didn’t mean a word he was saying to you. How many times had he pushed you into this desk and begged to feel you clenching around him? How many times had you let him? The cycle that made up you and Miguel’s relationship was vicious and addicting - a clash of skin on skin, teeth against teeth, body against body - if any of the other spider-people knew just how well Miguel knew your body, they’d raise even more hell about his favoritism of you.

Because of course it was obvious to any casual passer-by that Miguel and you were something. Friends? Miguel didn’t really have any, and neither did you. Lovers? You were almost positive that lovers communicated beyond ‘Can I take your pants off?’ and ‘Fuck me so hard I forget my name, please.” Co-workers? Well, if tearing each other’s clothes off every time you were alone counted, then sure, Miguel was your co-worker.

“Miguel.” You whined, arching into his bare chest and moaning when your nipples rubbed against the hard muscles that made up his body. Your current position - naked and being fucked into Miguel’s desk - was arguably a dangerous one. If someone did happen to still be at HQ and came anywhere near Miguel’s workspace, there was no chance you’d be able to hide what you were doing. “Use your super-hearing. No one’s here.”

Miguel faltered for a few seconds, pausing his movements - because God knows he couldn’t focus on anything but your sweet pussy while he was moving inside you - so that he could focus on the noises around his office. You tried to control your breathing, allowing him to move through each floor until he was certain no one was around to hear your moans.

“There’s no one here.” He bobbed his head once, confirming what you’d been trying to tell him for the better part of an hour. That was all you were going to get from him. He’d never say outright that you were right, but the softened caress of his fingers over your jaw was enough to tell you he at least acknowledged your contribution.

“So I can be loud again?” You questioned, spreading your legs wider so he could thrust into you as deep as possible.

“No, needy girl.” He shook his head, the softness in his eyes now replaced with something carnal and lusty. He cupped your jaw with both hands and thrusted all the way into you, grunting when you involuntarily clenched around his thick length.

“Why not?” You whined.

“Because when you’re moaning like that in my ear, cariño, I can feel myself losing control.” He grunted, gently rocking in and out of you. He kissed your shoulder before softly resting his forehead against it. “Don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

You blinked once, twice. This was uncharted waters for you and Miguel. He’d never vocalized these fears before, and you weren’t sure what that meant.

“You won’t hurt me, Miguel.” You tentatively cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his soft, black hair. “I trust you.”

He abruptly pulled away from you, meeting your gaze with what looked like both, confusion and hope in his eyes. You watched him watch you, unsure if you’d gone too far. Did co-workers/lovers/friends often have vulnerable conversations when tied together in the most intimate way possible?

“You trust me?” He was still softly thrusting in and out of you, and you wondered how long he’d been wanting to have this conversation. Had it been days? Weeks?

“Of course.” You scoffed, as if what you were saying had been obvious, though clearly it had been weighing on Miguel’s mind for quite some time. “You can let go with me, Miguel. I’ll tell you if it’s too much, okay?”

He paused, mulling over your words for a moment before tentatively nodding. You smiled, and suddenly Miguel’s mouth was on yours, and you couldn’t remember which way was up or down because his mouth was downright sinful. A spark erupted in your chest, eliciting a groan from deep in your throat. It was every skyscraper you’d ever jumped off of, every leap of faith you’d taken while swinging through the city, every goosebump you’d ever felt, tingling throughout every nerve in your body.

Miguel, in all his silent glory, must’ve felt it too, because he let out the most delicious moan you’d ever heard in your life before deepening the kiss even further. His tongue swiped over yours, and in a swift, thoughtless motion, he tugged at your lower lip with his teeth before trailing down to your neck. His thrusts were relentless and deep, a wild juxtaposition to the gentleness of his mouth nibbling at your throat. And Jesus, you’d never considered biting to be something that turned you on, but the thought of Miguel sinking his sharp fangs into your skin as he fucked you was, arguably, the hottest and most fucked up thing you’d ever thought about in your life.

An involuntary moan echoed out of you at the thought, and you found yourself mumbling incoherently into his ear.

“Miguel, Miguel, Miguel, Miguel, Mig-”

“You sound so sweet when you��re moaning my name, baby.”

He pressed a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning to your neck. He nibbled, licked, and sucked along the column of your throat, getting more aggressive the louder you moaned. The familiar heat that coiled in your core was so close to erupting that you started to talk before you realized what you were doing.

“Can you…” You trailed off, panting and a little embarrassed at the question you wanted to ask.

“Can I what, amor?” He gripped your hips, slamming into you with such force that you felt the words tumbling out of you.

“Can you bite me?”

A low groan slipped from his throat, so far gone in the pleasure that he barely hesitated before sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain was almost immediately coated by such an immense warmth that your orgasm suddenly and violently ricocheted through your body. You shook against Miguel, shuttering with every pass of his tongue over the mark he’d left on you.

Miguel wasn’t far behind you. You were unknowingly clenching around him so hard that he couldn’t stop the pleasure from overtaking him as well. He sunk his teeth into your throat, marking you harshly enough that you were sure it would leave a huge, purple bruise. He grunted, movements faltering, before thrusting into you deeply and coming.

Blood slowly trickled from the wounds on your neck and shoulder, and he eagerly licked at them while you tried to come down from what was arguably the highest you’d ever been. Every time his tongue passed over the sensitive marks, a spark of pleasure shot through you so violently that you eventually had to shove his mouth away from them.

“That was…insane.” You finally said, laughing at how blissed out Miguel looked. “But I liked it.”

“You’re going to be so bruised tomorrow.” He noted, mirroring your grin with a wide one of his own.

And you suddenly realized how fucking handsome he was when he smiled. You knew, of course, that Miguel was objectively the hottest person you’d ever seen, but he’d never smiled at you that way before - vulnerable, walls down for once - and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him again.

“We should pro-”

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into another kiss. It was slow and sweet and even though he briefly tensed when your lips met his, he eventually eased into the kiss, allowing himself the sweet indulgence of kissing the pretty girl in front of him. When you finally pulled away from him, lips swollen and red and maddening, he let out a soft whimper in protest.

“It’s only midnight.” He mumbled, glancing at the clock before kissing you again.

“If you try to make me get back to work after this, I’m going to slap you, Miguel O’Hara.” You breathed.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I was going to say let’s call it a night.”

You suddenly became very aware of his length still buried in you. Surely, if he didn’t want this to continue, he would’ve pulled out earlier, right? He wouldn’t be kissing you like you were the only girl in the world, right? But Miguel had always been temperamental, sometimes hot, usually cold. Unease coiled in your gut as you tried to figure out where his head was at. This joining had certainly felt different than the other times you’d been with him, but did that really mean anything when it came to Miguel?

“My place or yours, Mami?”

Your heart thundered at the nickname, and all the doubt from moments before was replaced with thoughts of him, him, him.

“Either one.” You shrugged, “We’ll have to stagger our arrival times tomorrow so no one suspects us. Especially with these.” You pointed to the bite marks on your shoulder and neck.

“Or,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “we could say fuck it and show up together.”

You blinked up at him, wondering if he meant what you thought he meant.

“What about the bites? Don’t you think people might think they’re…weird?”

He shrugged again. “Let them. I don’t care. They make you feel good, so fuck everyone else, baby.”

“Is this ‘nice-Miguel’ going to stick around or is it just because you’re high on blood right now?” You teased.

He scowled, but you noticed the tiny tick in his jaw that indicated a hidden smile. “You saying I’m not nice, baby?”

“You’re a perpetually grumpy person, Miguel.”

“Not with you.” He grumbled.

“Especially with me.” You corrected, kissing the tip of his nose. “But I like that about you.”

“You do?” He perked up, grinning slightly.

“Yes.” You nodded earnestly. “Of course I do.”

He nuzzled into your neck, resting his head on your unmarked shoulder, and mumbled, “I like you too.”

Tag List:

@foxglove-grove @lavnderluv @khaleesihavilliard @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @myhomethesea

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brokenmenswhore · 4 months ago

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betrothals & brothels | aegon, aemond, & jace

pairings: aegon targaryen x stark fem!reader, aemond targaryen x stark fem!reader, jacaerys velaryon x stark fem!reader

series summary: aemond targaryen tells the realm that you, the lady of house stark, are to wed him and secure a partnership in the north. in protest, you agree to marry jacaerys velaryon, affirming the north’s allegiance to rhaenyra. when the news hits king’s landing, aegon decides it’s better to have you under his watchful eye until the political partnership is solidified, but doesn’t realize you have a life away from your duty as a stark

chapter warnings: none

a/n: this wasn’t going to be a series but it just kept getting longer and longer so i had to split it into parts! so let me know if you like it i have more! this is for all the girlies who can’t decide between all these insatiable men.

this is mainly aegon but what’s the harm in indulging in all three?

the mentions of brothel work will make a lot more sense later! i don’t know anything about cregan’s parents but for this they sucked and now they’re dead :)

series masterlist

────── ☾ ──────

“How could you do such a thing?” your brother yelled, intruding into your chambers, anger evident on his face.

“What are you on about now, Cregan?” you sighed.

“We swore an oath of loyalty to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and you,” he spat, poking your chest, “suddenly decide to betrothe yourself to Prince Aemond? To the enemy?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, looking up at him with genuine misunderstanding. “What?”

“Don’t act stupid with me, sister,” Cregan warned.

“I am not betrothed to Aemond Targaryen,” you spoke plainly, “and I do not believe I have the liberty to choose who I am to marry, as our father so made clear.”

Cregan backed away, noticing your genuine concern and confusion. His sister had never met Aemond Targaryen, and as Lord of his house, Cregan would have been asked of a betrothal for his sister.

“‘Tis being spread across the realm,” Cregan said, “that you are to wed Aemond Targaryen and secure the North’s allegiance to Aegon the Usurper- the very allegiance that we have already pledged to the rightful queen.”

“I dare say you should know me better than to think me willing to sully our name in such a heinous way, brother,” you replied, “if this is the news they bring, it is false. We must clear this up at once.”

“I’m trusting you, sister,” Cregan warned, “with the rumors about you, I doubt this will be taken as just a jest from the dragons.”

He didn’t need to clarify what he was speaking of. For months, there were whispers of you frequenting brothels, learning about, and trying to achieve, your own pleasure. They were true, of course, but your brother had no need to know it.

You were kept on a tight leash most of your life, ridiculously sheltered, never having the opportunity to learn about the pleasures of life or your own body. Your brother was never one for frequenting brothels, but his friends were, and growing up, you would often follow them in the dark, stunned by the atmosphere of the whorehouses.

The women in these places were free, full of pleasure, and unashamed of their bodies. They allowed themselves to indulge without boundaries or judgement. You became enamored with such things.

You soon learned that these women made their wages from whoring, which only sparked your interest even more. Though being a Stark came with privileges, when your brother became Lord of Winterfell, he promoted himself as a working man, always assisting in matters pertaining to The Wall. You always felt like using Stark coin meant taking from Cregan, and you wanted to make your own way in the world. You loved being a Stark, but you loved being someone with no expectations or labels as well. You only worked a few nights per moon at one particular brothel that only allowed you clients who would not recognize you. You had your own coin, no name, and the ability to explore pleasure like never before. You were still a Stark in reality, however, so you knew to be careful, but the alternative lifestyle allowed you to have confidence in carrying yourself, rather than needing the help of your House or a husband.

Cregan had hounded you about the rumors for weeks, reminding you that as a lady of an esteemed house, you had certain duties, and certain privileges were off limits. He also reminded you that you would have much trouble finding a husband if you did not remain untouched.

You contested that it was unfair for him to have the freedom to seek out brothels, but it was looked down upon for you to do just the same. You didn’t fight too hard, though, so as not to cause suspicion that the rumors were true.

“Those rumors are cruel, and you and I both know it,” you retorted, “if they think me a whore, it should only fend them off of believing in this Targaryen lie so easily.”

“You are too strong-willed for your own good, sister,” Cregan sighed, turning on his heels and exiting your chambers.

✶

“It is not true,” Cregan pleaded, “my sister has never even met your uncles. She claims it to be false information spread by the king, and I believe her. My house is still with you.”

Jacaerys nodded his head, choosing to believe his friend. The moment the news of the alleged betrothal hit Dragonstone, Jace returned to Winterfell, eager to hear that his friend had not betrayed him. “I was not even aware you had a sister.”

“She is not around much,” Cregan explained, “she is much too independent to allow me any sense of control over her that does not directly impact the happenings of our House.”

“You think her too independent for marriage?” Jace questioned.

“I think her too independent for me to do that to any poor man,” Cregan laughed, “but I think she would agree to it. If it benefitted the Stark name, of course.”

Jace nodded, looking out over Winterfell as he thought. “My uncle Aemond may very well make good on this announcement,” he alleged, “this news may be a warning toward your house.”

“Meaning?” Cregan asked for clarification.

“Meaning that he may very well intend to marry your sister and force your hand in their favor, no matter what it may require.”

Cregan scoffed. “I am not scared of Aemond Targaryen, or his dragons.”

“Is a marriage to your sister the only way my uncles will be able to force your support?” Jace inquired, turning toward Cregan.

“Likely so,” Cregan answered, “but if Aemond Targaryen tries to force my sister’s hand in marriage, then I shall pity him more than I wish him dead.”

“Allow me to take her hand, then,” Jace offered, “lock away all options for my uncles. Aemond is nothing if not a properly dutiful man. A psychopath, yes, but a properly dutiful psychopath.”

“No,” is all Cregan said before turning back toward the view.

“And why not?”

“You do not want to wed my sister, Jacaerys, it would only be more strife for you.”

“It would solidify the North’s allegiance to my mother and dismiss any way for The Greens to try and steal it.”

Cregan pondered for a moment. Jacaerys was an ally, yes, but was also one of his closest friends, and he did not relish in the thought of Jacaerys being wed to his sister. He also knew how stubborn you could be, and he knew it would be more of a burden on Jace than anything. One thing was certain: he would rather have you wed Jacaerys than Aemond Targaryen.

Cregan and Jacaerys caught you out in the courtyard, snow sticking to your hair as it fell, watching with admiration as the Night’s Watch practiced their swordsmanship.

“She has always wanted to learn,” Cregan told Jacaerys, “but not a one of them will allow it.”

They stepped closer before Cregan called your name. You turned to him, catching his gaze before turning back to the Night’s Watch, intentionally ignoring his calling.

He called you repeatedly until you sighed and stood up, marching over to him.

“What could not have waited, brother?” you asked, bothered, “you can see I am otherwise occupied.”

“They will never let you wield a blade, sister, you were not occupied.”

“I quite enjoy watching the men in uniform, thank you very much,” you responded, “I would call myself occupied when watching such things.”

You knew the comment would piss him off, and you were not in the mood to be scolded by whatever he would say.

“This is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen’s first born son,” Cregan said, motioning toward Jacaerys.

You gave Jace a quick smile before turning back to Cregan. “Okay?”

“You are to wed him in a fortnight.”

“Pardon?” you scoffed, “and to who do you think you speak?”

“If you are not already betrothed, I do not see the issue,” Cregan stated.

“You still do not believe me, do you? You would truly force my hand to prove it was not already previously forced?”

“This will secure our oath to the True Queen.”

“And what of my decisions? Are you to make them all for me now?” you fought, “you promised me it would not be like it was with father, Cregan.”

Your words hit him hard. Your father was controlling and manipulative, constantly taking away your free will in favor of the choices he thought best for Winterfell.

“I do not wish for it to be,” Cregan spoke, his voice now more intimate, “but I fear The Greens may make it so. Please trust me, Y/N.”

You exchanged a long glance before you shifted your gaze to Jacaerys, who smiled at you warmly, and then you returned back to Cregan. He was right, if The Greens wanted this allegiance bad enough, they had the power (and the dragons) to come get it themselves. “Okay.”

Cregan sighed in relief, straightening his posture and smiling. “Lovely,” he spoke, “I suppose we shall begin preparations tomorrow. The sooner it is official, the better.”

Cregan left, off to attend to his duties, leaving you alone with Jacaerys.

“He did not tell me he had a sister,” Jacaerys said.

“He does not often speak of me unless necessary,” you responded, “I often think he wishes I was much different. Less vocal, perhaps.”

Jacaerys smiled. “Why would it be such a terrible trait?”

“I do not exist in a world in which my voice holds weight, My Prince. I admit, it would be easier on Cregan if I was not so intent on using it anyway.”

“I think a voice unused is a voice wasted,” Jacaerys started, “and I think it would be a shame for yours to go unheard. I think it too pretty.”

You blushed at his comment. “You flatter me, My Prince, but it is unnecessary. I have already agreed to wed you. You do not owe me flattery.”

“I do not flatter you because it is what you are owed,” Jace explained, “I flatter you because you are pretty enough to be flattered.”

It was a genuine compliment, and one you had never heard before. The men at the brothels often complimented you, but it was out of pure lust, never out of the adoration you felt now.

You and Jacaerys became somewhat close over the next few days, spending most of your days attempting to get to know one another. You showed him some parts of Winterfell that Cregan hadn’t, nothing of the brothels, but your favorite spots in the woods, and the cave you so often ran to for solace.

“This is my favorite place in the world,” you told Jace, watching him look up at the ice formations atop the cave, “because of this.” You gestured to a giant hot spring in the ground.

“How does such a thing develop in such a cold environment?” Jacaerys asked.

“I do not know,” you admitted, “but I’m rather glad it did.”

Jacaerys watched you smile as you spoke about your favorite place, your eyes lighting up as you bent down to run your fingertips through the water. He stepped closer to you, causing you to stand up and meet his eye level.

“I think I quite like Winterfell,” he nearly whispered, tentatively placing his hands on your waist, nervous that he was overstepping.

“The cold looks good on you, My Prince,” you said, eye contact never breaking.

Jacaerys moved his face closer to yours slowly, giving you ample opportunity to stop him or back away, but you didn’t bite.

You appreciated him taking his time, but he was taking all too long. “Fucks sake, Jace,” you said, grabbing either side of his face in your hands and pulling him into a kiss. Your lips moulded perfectly together, the grip on your hips tightening slightly as your bodies were now pressed together.

Jacaerys broke the kiss first, taking a moment to breathe. “I need to return home to Dragonstone first thing to update my mother. I promise to return to you as soon as I may.”

You pressed your forehead against his. “You better.”

✶

Jacaerys was only gone two nights when you heard the intense whooshing that could only be caused by the wings of a dragon hitting the wind. He’s back already? you thought, looking into the sky to pinpoint Vermax. You spotted the wingspan in the distance, but something was off. The wingspan was too large. In fact, the wingspan was astoundingly large. The sheer size of the dragon was quickly noticed by onlookers within the castle walls, everyone turning their heads to sky. This is not Vermax. Something was wrong.

You stood atop a castle wall, making you the closest in the castle to the dragon, as her bronze and green feet gripped a platform atop the castle walls that was often used for catapults. She was obscenely close to you, nearly knocking you down from the wind force of her wings falling next to her body. You stepped back to give her some space, one of her eyes being the size of almost your entire body. She was beautiful, but her size would have intimidated even Cregan.

Her rider jumped down next to her, ducking under a wing to approach you. It was a face you had never seen before, but you were smart enough to know that there was only one person alive with staple silver hair and only one eye.

You wanted to make a witty comment about your ‘marriage betrothal,’ but the closer he got, the more you realized that although you had strong feelings about what he did, you had never actually met him, and you did not know what to say. You, however, refused to ever be rendered speechless.

“Couldn’t have landed a little further away, My Prince?” you asked as his footsteps became closer and closer, stopping a good ten feet away from you.

“She has a mind of her own, My Lady,” he responded, standing tall with both hands behind his back in proper stance.

“I would think so, she is a living creature.”

Aemond smirked. “I presume you know why I’ve come?”

“I know not of what you want, My Prince.”

“I believe you do. I did not announce a betrothal to jest, My Lady.”

You were slightly taken aback by the fact that he knew who you were so quickly. Even men at the brothels could not tell it was you- you feared there was something about you that gave it away. You quickly remembered you were adorned with the profile of a wolf head in steel, and you relaxed a bit.

“You did not announce a betrothal on anyone’s account but your own,” you fought, “I did not agree to such things and I will not agree to such things. What was your intent, My Prince? To tell me via raven that we are to be wed and anticipate I welcome you with open arms? I do not even know you.” Your tongue was becoming looser and looser, but you were growing angry. What right did he have to suggest you would agree to a betrothal he told the realm about before even asking you? You had never met this man before, and this was your only connection. He almost ruined your relationship with your brother, as well as your brother’s relationship with Rhaenyra and her family.

“I have received word that you are to marry my nephew Jacaerys,” he stated. You thought he would continue his sentence, but it ended there as he awaited a response.

“And?”

“And? My Lady, you are too disagreeable. You are to ride to King’s Landing with me as we prepare the terms of our marriage.”

“I will do no such thing,” you spat.

Aemond sighed, taking a few steps closer to you, but still leaving a few feet between your bodies.

“You will accompany me to King’s Landing, or you will watch Vhagar burn your home.”

You stared at him, searching his eye for any hint that the threat may be empty, but you found none. You barely found anything. You were not one to flinch or retreat, however.

“Threats are not the proper way to court a woman, especially one who is already betrothed to another,” you said, keeping your head up.

Without even turning his head, Aemond kept his eye locked on you, and shouted “Dracarys!” Vhagar knew it was directed to her, and she blew a steady stream of fire toward one of the castle walls, causing it to cave in on itself. The people below you ran away from the damage, frightened by Vhagar and any further threat to their home.

From below, you noticed Cregan running outside, surveying the damage before turning toward Vhagar, and noticing you and Aemond. You exchanged a look from a distance, sure that he was looking at you. If you left with Aemond, Cregan would never forgive you, and you would be betraying your family. If you didn’t leave with Aemond, he would burn down Winterfell, Cregan would still never forgive you, and you would still be betraying your family. You also did not want to hurt or lose Jacaerys, but watching the men of Winterfell try to extinguish the flames of your home, you knew you had the power to keep it safe, even if it meant giving yourself up.

“Fine,” you snapped, walking straight past Aemond until you were level with Vhagar’s head. “You have free will, you know,” you whispered to her, Aemond approaching and lifting you onto her saddle.

✶

The moment you arrived in King’s Landing, members of the King’s Guard were surrounding Vhagar, ready to grab you if you tried to retreat. As soon as your feet hit the ground, one of the men tied your wrists behind your back, adding further restrictions to keep you from trying anything.

“What a way to welcome a lady,” you spat.

The men did not speak, they just followed you and Aemond closely as the prince walked through the Red Keep, ignoring any unsure stares as he approached the throne room. He pushed both doors open, treading straight up to the Iron Throne. You were angry, but you kept your head up, refusing to appear weak. There was no one already in the room apart from the King, who sat on the throne in anticipation as you approached.

Aemond pivoted to stand next to the throne and therefore next to his brother, but the guards grabbed your wrists and halted you in place in front of the steps to the throne before you could continue following Aemond.

“I hear we have a wolf in our midst,” the King spoke.

You remained silent. You supported Rhaenyra in her claim to the throne, despite your brother’s concerns. Aegon had usurped her throne, had been obsessed with bloodshed since the crown touched his skull, and allowed his brother to falsify a betrothal to the realm for his own political gain. You hated him. He was not worth the breath.

“Does the wolf not howl?” he asked. You stared at him blankly, shoulders back, head up, mouth closed.

“I hear you’ve disrespected by dear brother and decided to marry my nephew,” he tried, but still, no answer. “Now tell me,” he said, standing up and slowly walking down the stairs, cup in hand, “why would you want to do that?”

You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on keeping your breath steady as he approached you, standing directly in front of you.

“Jacaerys-“ he started, but he stopped for a moment, almost as if speaking the name disgusted him, “Jacaerys is not a man!” he yelled, smashing the cup on the floor next to your feet. There was something more to it, something in the past that you weren’t aware of.

You didn’t flinch. You remained still, eyes locked on him as he calmed down until he finally looked at you, matching your intense gaze.

“If you wanted a man, I have one for you. Funnily enough, I actually provided you with one for a husband,” Aegon continued, raising an arm toward his brother, “and I suggest you act grateful.”

Aegon stayed in your face for a moment, intentionally running his eyes over every portion of your upper body, not even trying to hide it when he traced the line of your dress hem and cleavage. He followed your body back up to your eyes. “Nothing to say?” he taunted.

“The only reason a man would force a woman’s hand for political gain,” you started, “is if he is too weak to garner allies himself.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared as he looked at you. He was partially hurt, the word cutting deeper than any other could have, and he was partially angry that you would speak to your king in such a way. There was a small part of him that enjoyed it, though he would never admit it.

“I am not weak,” he spat.

“Then untie my hands,” you contested, “unless you do not think yourself strong enough to handle me.”

Aegon nodded his head, smiling and waving a finger at you as he backed up slightly. “Ah ah ah, I see, you want me to free you so you can run back to your bastard. My darling, you’re standing in front of a king.”

You scoffed, “you are no king of mine.”

Aegon’s smile dropped, his eyes becoming dark and his gaze intense. He seemed like he wanted to continue fighting with you, but his next comeback was lost in his throat. “Get her out of my sight.”

The guards started to direct you away, but you were insistent on getting in the last word. “You should lock me in the dungeon if you’re so scared of me, Your Grace,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “I can’t promise I’ll behave anywhere else.”

Aemond tensed at your words, realizing he was in for a rather tumultuous time with you, but Aegon sat back on the Iron Throne, a slight smile on his lips as you were dragged out of the room.

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just-zy · 4 months ago

Text

Gone soft

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: You thought getting Wednesday a stuffed bear was cute, but as she is, she doesn't quite like anything that imaged her that she was turning soft.

A/N: hello! it's been awhile, and this is quite awfully written, so I'm sorry ab that but I just got this motivation to writee, at lasttt

Warnings!: angsty..? hshshs it's fluff so u don't have to worry.. kinda

Masterlist

It wasn't anything big or anything small either, it was perfect. Well, you thought it was.

You knew it wasn't going to be easy having Wednesday accept the gift that you were going to give her, it was only a cute and fluffy bear.

No is the worst thing that she could say, right?

"I thought we weren't getting each other anything. We agreed to–"

"Y- yeah, but I saw this on my walk to Jericho so I thought you'd like it–"

"That looks sickening. It's soft and unwanted, you're keeping that."

I hummed with audible dismay on my posture, I held the bear close to my chest, I didn't know it was gonna be this bad. My heart is hammering inside my ribcage, like it was finding an escape, my hands are shaking, it was obvious I was in distress and was trying not to break.

But Wednesday doesn't know that, after spilling her opinion about the gift, she automatically goes back into writing her novel.

"O– okay. I'll be.. I'm going out."

I wasn't expecting anything from her really, but that hope in me shattered. Am I overreacting? Am I being too much? I mean it is only our first monthsary, so I guess I am.

I waited for a response from her, but all I got was an unbothered hum.

"Wednesday– Hi, Y/N! Happy Monthsary to you both!"

I didn't think it'd be relieving to hear someone else being in the room.

"Thank you, Enid."

I sighed heavily and made my way towards the werewolf, my hands shook as I lightly shoved the bear in her arms. I just know that she can take care of this baby with love.

If Wednesday doesn't want it, then the bear can keep her company from Enid's side of the bed.

"For me?! Awh! Thank you Y/N/N!"

"I'll be heading out now."

...

Enid skips her way to her bed, setting the bear gently aside with the rest of her stuffed toys.

"Hey Wednesday?"

"What."

"Did she get you anything as a present? Or did you get her something?"

Enid stood waiting for Wednesday to face her, she knew the bear was originally for Wednesday, she heard everything before she got in.

"She got me that wretched bear. You all know how I'd rather stain my blood on my hands rather than accept something like that."

Enid knew how harsh Wednesday gets, the way you handed her the bear, the way you walked out, and the sickening atmosphere in the room. She almost gagged.

"Honestly, it's your loss, Wednesday."

Wednesday knew she should've at least accepted your gift with remorse but, you both agreed not to get each other anything anyways, so why are you upset about something you agreed on?

And she doesn't get why her chest was feeling jittery all of a sudden.

She huffed, suddenly feeling tense as her fingers shook with each time she pressed on her typewriters keys.

Oh how fast her emotions work up.

★

Archery was something, Xavier's yapping kinda helped? It did get your mind off Wednesday. All week you tried going back to the way it was, but Wednesday was making it pretty hard. She was kind of losing contact with you, and you didn't know what to do.

Maybe she grew tired of you about the bear gift thing. She didn't accept it anyways, so why then did she have the energy to start pushing you away?

"What's with your aim today, you seem off."

"Might wanna talk about yours."

I chuckled unashamed, as I took another arrow and adjusted it on my bow.

"Yeah yeah laugh it up- but seriously, what's up?"

"I don't really wanna talk about it, Xavier."

I let go of the bow after making sure I sighted it right, it shoots through the bullseye.

He clears his throat as he took his shot.

"If you say so."

...

The next day was no better, Enid barges right into my room, announcing to literally almost everyone in Nevermore how the bear I gave her was missing.

"What? Are you sure? Maybe it's at the bottom of your bed–"

She fumed as she grabbed my wrist, practically dragging me into her shared room.

"It's not anywhere, it was with me last night! I swear!"

She was absolutely livid.

I reassured her that it was okay, that I could just buy her a new one that suited her better.

She pouts, "But I liked that cute little one.."

I sighed and agreed to find it with her, but if we couldn't then I'm getting her a new one.

We checked her drawer, under her bed, ruffling her closet, inside the bathroom and even on the balcony, still no sign of that bear anywhere.

"Wait! I think– I might have left it with Yoko! She did want to see the bear actually- I'll be right back!"

She hurried off the room, while I sat on the wooden floor.

After a few moments of resting, I took my time glancing around their room. Enid's side of the bed, and then Wednesday's. I stood up and began walking towards Wednesday's side of the room. I've always admired how clean she is.

How her drawers were filled with her collections of her favourite knives.

I sighed tiredly, she wouldn't mind me napping on her bed does she?

Plopping my body with full force on her soft mattress. I can't believe how soft her bed actually is, it was almost flawless, the only thing that wasn't making everything seem comfortable was the thing that was covered on her soft pillow.

I grumbled as I practically grabbed her only cushion, accidentally making the object on the soft cushion fall off her bed.

Shoot, what is that–

My eyebrows knitting together as I tried connecting everything.

Why's the bear hidden on Wednesday's—

Oh.

Oh!

OH.

My heart started rattling like crazy.

Wednesday took the bear.

I grabbed the bear and placed everything back to the way it was. After I finished, I ran to my heart's desire, passing through every corridor, through every room where Wednesday wasn't.

I wanted to see Wednesday.

It was raining like cats and dogs out there, and I knew Wednesday was in that rain. If I don't find my girlfriend now, then I'm going to spiral everywhere. So, I didn't stop running.

My vision, my pulse rate, my stamina, my breathing, it was all going into a frenzy.

"Wednesday!"

I spotted Wednesday just a few steps away, she looks at me like I was crazy, I knew she was going to mother me about being in the rain, but I didn't care. I was practically sprinting towards her.

I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know what I'm feeling, everything felt messy, how my emotions were all over the place, how sticky I felt, how I was heaving right infront of her.

"Y/N, what are you doing out here? How senseless of you to not bring an umbrella with you—"

"I don't care." I shook from the cold, but I truly didn't care, Wednesday was here, and so was I.

Her ghouly ambiance, her dry braids, everything about her is perfect.

Smiling lightheartedly at her while I took a hold of her defined cheek, whilst the other is on her waist.

Suddenly, I felt droplets prickling on me, raindrops falling at every aspect of her being, her now wet hands right on my nape, the umbrella long forgotten, we held eye contact for as long as I can remember, while our kiss felt like a millisecond.

It's perfect.

She's perfect.

______+______

*/you get sick the next day

Y: you're going soft on me, aren't you–

W: speak of it and I'm leaving you here unattended.

A/N: lmao idk wtf happened, i actually hate this 😔

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams imagine #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega imagine

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hyunsvngs · 1 year ago

Text

𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲 - kim seungmin x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)

wc: 6.6k

cw: very mean dom seungmin, like seriously very mean, mc being a whore, sex with no strings (again), SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: following the events of your almost-orgy, you can’t stop thinking about a certain someone and the way he behaved in bed.

a/n: y’all asked and i delivered! jk this was happening regardless. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT! here is part six of hot bitch summer, our frat skz au. smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: creampie, dom seungmin, sub reader, a LOT OF DIRTY TALK, one (1) face slap, spanking (mc rec), fingering, grinding, multiple orgasms!, seungmin cums in mc’s mouth, seungmin is VERY MEAN, safeword negotiations (it’s never used), lovely soft aftercare and a friendship blooming tho <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Minho’s hips smacked against your ass as he fucked into you, that large vein on his thick length doing wonders against your fluttering walls. You’d lost count of how many times you’d already cum around him, something he’d probably tease you about later - but you could care less when he had you in this position, tummy pressed flat against his mattress and his cock bullying into your hole with zero restraint.

You wanted more, though. You wanted it rougher, harder, deeper.

“Min, please, harder! Be rough with me, please, I can take it-”

You were cut off when an arm wrapped around your neck, yanking you back so your chest pressed flush against his toned stomach. You could feel his milky skin against yours, soft but dewy with sweat from the exertion of fucking you deep like this. Your own back wasn’t faring too well, the dew on your skin making you slide around against him.

“Be rough with you? This isn’t rough enough, slut?” Minho murmured into your ear, his teeth nipping your earlobe. You shook your head rapidly, hands going to grip around Minho’s forearm while he fucked into you without abandon. You were gonna cum like this, you realised - for the umpteenth time around him.

“No, ‘s good, just- I’m gonna cum, I need rough, please?” You managed to stammer out, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his heavy balls slapping against you. Minho let out a small, mirthless chuckle, as if he was going to shake his head in disbelief.

“You want it so bad, why don’t you go to Seungmin and be his little painslut?” Oh. My. God. With those words and an expertly positioned thrust to your g-spot, you fell apart around Minho, whining and babbling incoherently. You could feel your wetness flood his cock once again, and Minho groaned. His hands moved to your hips to hold you tightly against him, shooting ropes of hot cum into your core.

Later on, when you were cleaned up and thoroughly fucked, you laid on Minho’s chest with him scrolling through social media on his phone. You watched him like Felix’s newest post before commenting something about how he looked like a baby chick, before he continued scrolling absentmindedly. His thumb paused on the screen when he came to Seungmin’s post.

You blinked hazily at the screen. Okay, it had been on your mind, admittedly - the way Seungmin had behaved during the time you all had fun. It was a week ago at that point. Maybe it had been invading your dreams at night. It had clearly been invading your sex with Minho. He also looked really, really good in the picture, which just didn’t help at all. It looked like he was at an event of some sort - perhaps one of Hyunjin’s art exhibits - and he was in a plain black blazer, shirtless underneath, with a chain around his neck. He just looked expensive. It had you thinking of all the ways he could ruin you. Would he deny you in bed, or would he make you cum over and over-

Minho’s head had turned to look directly at you, and he was laughing. Unashamed, loud, full body laughs that really gave away just how humiliating you looked in that second. “You know, if you just promised him you’d be good, he’d fuck you.”

“Shut up!” You huffed, burying your face in the fabric of Minho’s tee. Then, you thought about it. That’s all you had to do? Be good? Not be a brat? Yeah, you could do that. You looked up at him, one eye exposed. “For real? He would?”

Your voice was slightly muffled in his clothing, but Minho nodded anyway, still with a stupid smile on his face.

You took that advice to heart. The next day, after yet another sleepover with Minho that ended up in you getting fucked into the mattress, you walked down the hallway to Seungmin’s room and knocked on the door rapidly. Just ask. Just say you’ll be good for him, and-

He swung open the door quickly, glasses perched on his nose. He was shirtless, in just plaid pyjama bottoms. Planes of lightly tanned skin clung to just a slight ghost of abdominal muscles beneath, taking over your entire vision. Oh God. He wanted you to die. He actually wanted you to die.

“Um, so,” You began. You chuckled nervously, ringing your fingers together. Staring at your feet, you blushed crimson. You could do this. Just say it. “So. After last time, y’know, I’ve kind of been thinking. Maybe… would you wanna? Y’know. Fuck. I’ll be good for you, I won’t be a brat. Haha, Minho told me to say that bit, so-”

“Nope.” The door slammed in your face, and you were left blinking at the wood in front of you. Oh. Right. Okay. You had been well and truly humiliated - you were cursing Minho internally for giving you this dumb idea - but you decided not to let it take over your senses.

It was alright - you could get away with only fucking seven of them. Life goes on.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Except, life didn’t fucking go on. Less than a week after you’d been rejected by Seungmin, the air conditioning in your dorm house was well and truly shot. You were pacing around the kitchen for five minutes dumbly in just a sports bra and shorts before you realised you could actually call someone about it. You could get someone out to fix it - I mean, surely they still had people working over the summer on campus to fix these kinds of things, right?

A quick phone call informed you that no, they don’t. It would take a week minimum for someone to come out and fix your air conditioning, and even with every single window open, your body was still covered in a thin sheen of sweat that made your hair way more greasy than normal. You’d tried cold showers. They just made you heat up way quicker when you got out. You’d even tried buying one of those expensive fans, but it just blew hot air around the place and made you want to jump off of a cliff. Why exactly had you decided to stay on campus over the summer again?

The boys were going home for a week tomorrow, too, which not only put a stop to your hot bitch summer plans temporarily but also left you without friends. Why is life so hard?

You sighed, throwing yourself down to lounge on your sofa. The leather stuck to your skin uncomfortably. You wanted death. Craved it, even. You picked up your phone with a lot of hesitation before clicking on your texts.

[9:31am] You: min. i need a favour

Definitely sounded more suggestive than you’d intended, but that’s okay. Before you could ponder on what he was going to reply, his contact image flashed on your phone notifying you that he was calling you. You swiped to accept, putting him on speaker. Your body would simply go into oversensitivity if you put the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s up?” Minho sounded concerned. You sighed deeply.

“My air conditioning is broken. Like, dead. I was going to ask if any of you knew how to fix it?”

Minho groaned on the other end. “Sorry, baby, no. Felix’s knowledge stops at computers, unfortunately. Can no one come to fix it?”

You wanted to die. It was so fucking hot. Minho’s voice wasn’t exactly making it better, to be honest. “Nope. It’d take a whole week apparently, because of it being the summer and the air conditioning systems being like, I don’t know. I stopped listening.”

“Of course you did,” Minho hummed. There was a beat of silence before you heard a little ‘aha’ come from his mouth. “Stay here for the week. No one will be here, so you’d have the house to yourself.”

A whole frat house to yourself? Damn. It would definitely be a lot less claustrophobic than the house you were currently in. Their house was huge, after all. You could get a lot done. Not that you had a lot to do, but… it would be nice. Their air conditioning also actually worked, so that’s a bonus. “Oh. Sure. Okay. Shall I pack my stuff and come now, or…?”

“Mm, maybe not, baby. We’ve all got to get up early tomorrow to leave, and I’ll just end up fucking you into the mattress if you come now,” Minho mused. You could hear the slight amusement in his voice, knowing the effect the words would have on you. You groaned despairingly, kicking your feet around on the couch. “I’ll leave the key in the dead plant outside. Come tomorrow morning.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The key was in the dead plant outside of the house. You wondered briefly why they even had a potted plant, a house full of eight men who could barely take care of themselves, let alone a plant. You remembered the time Jeongin briefly had a goldfish in the first year of university. It hadn’t gone well, and you’d all had to hold a very dramatic funeral three weeks later. Jeongin sang in the funeral through his tears.

Stuffing the key in the lock, you swung open the front door and slammed it shut behind you. Silence. Honestly, the frat house had never been so silent before. Jisung was always screaming. Changbin was also always screaming. Chan had headaches all the time. It was never silent.

Still, you moved upstairs with your duffle bag and just dumped it on Minho’s bed. The air conditioning was sweet, a harsh breeze against your skin. You already felt cool, relaxed. The house was really so big too, you could have so many pets living here.

When you made your way back downstairs, you were in search of a nice, cold lemonade. You knew there was some in the fridge since you’d put it in there yourself, and you were hellbent on getting it. As you passed the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There was someone sitting on the sofa. Your heart picked up speed, eyes widening. No one was meant to be here. Everyone was away. Which meant… oh my God, someone had broken in. You were alone. It was like that horror movie you’d watched with Jisung where you’d both ended up crying.

You blinked, squinting to look further into the room. The figure’s back was facing you, dark hair clipped back on his head and his fingers clicking away at a laptop. Okay, if he was going to kill you, he wouldn’t have a laptop. You leaned in subconsciously, barely making out the clips in his hair, until Pochacco was staring you dead in the face. His stupid cute face was printed onto the clips.

Seungmin.

You’re safe. Wait, no, you’re totally not. Why is he here? You walked into the room, pointing at him straight in his face. Seungmin looked up at you, eyes wide and owlish. His hands had paused on the keyboard of his laptop. He literally had a sheet mask on his face.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed. “You literally gave me a heart attack, Seungmin. I almost died.”

Seungmin scoffed, eyebrows furrowing. “I… live here, Y/N. I thought you knew that.”

You rolled your eyes, hands now on your hips. “Well yeah. I knew that. That’s the exact sofa where we-“ you blanched. The exact sofa where you got fucked senseless by Felix while Seungmin commanded you around. “Nevermind.”

A smile played on Seungmin’s full lips, and he shook his head, turning his attention back to his laptop. “I’m guessing Minho didn’t tell you I’d be here.”

No. No, he fucking didn’t. “Is it obvious?”

“You literally just said you almost had a heart attack seeing me,” He was still typing furiously, before he nodded towards the space next to him. “Come and sit. I don’t bite.”

Wish you would. You moved towards the sofa, hesitating before just deciding to sit on it with enough distance between you two. “So, uh… whatcha doing?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow beneath the thin sheet mask. He didn’t respond, only turning the laptop to face you on his lap. There, in black and white, was the Hall of Fame blog except… there was a new post being written. About who, you had no clue. Some random. More importantly, Seungmin was making a new post there, which meant it was him. All of your suspicions had been confirmed.

“I… I fucking knew it, Kim Seungmin,” You whispered. Seungmin smiled, turning the laptop back to him. “Is that- is that why you’ve stayed here?! To work on… this?! Seungmin, it’s really bad, y’know. You write about people’s lives on that page.”

“Hey,” Seungmin admonished. “I do not. Well, okay, I do. I always use initials, though. No one knows it’s for sure about anyone.”

That was fair, you supposed. You shrugged. Seungmin started to slowly peel the face mask away from his skin, revealing his facial features to you. It dropped to the wooden floor messily before you spoke again, with a question this time. “Can I help?”

Seungmin shrugged. “I’m currently writing a piece about how this girl has no girl code and kissed her friend’s boyfriend at a frat party the other night. Got sent in anonymously - I presume it was sent by the friend. You know anything about that?”

You thought hard. If it was what you thought it was, then yeah, you did. Jisung had mentioned something about it when you saw him last. “I think it was that girl… Teri, is it? She did kiss her friend’s boyfriend.”

Seungmin nodded, amused. You’d gotten into his good books at least. He started to tap away on his laptop, and you sidled up closer to watch him. He didn’t seem to mind, turning the laptop back slightly towards you so you could see.

He did have a way with words, and never gave away too much, but it made you think.

“Hey, Seungmin?” Seungmin perked up, making a little hum as acknowledgement. “Why have you never written anything about me? I mean, this hot bitch summer thing has surely got to be something you’d write about.”

Seungmin’s fingers paused again. He turned to you with an almost horrified expression on his face. “It’s a gossip column. I only write about stuff that’s wrong. Morally wrong things that people have done, and even then I give them dignity by keeping it relatively anonymous. How is what you’re doing wrong?”

You stayed quiet, staring at him blankly.��

“Listen, Y/N,” He sighed, shutting his laptop. “I think what you’re doing is fucking awesome. Power to the pussy. You wanna know why I won’t fuck you?”

You nodded, arms wrapped around your legs where you sat. “I thought it was because you didn’t want to.”

Seungmin let out a small laugh, fingers moving to brush your hair behind your ear. The air conditioning’s high setting was blowing your hair everywhere, and he took a second to smooth the locks down. “Believe me, I want to. I just don’t think you could handle it.”

“I definitely could,” you blurted. Then, you didn’t stop blurting. “Handle it, I mean. I could. Totally. I got a taste for it the other week and honestly? It’s kind of been plaguing my mind. Like, I kind of need it, Seungmin. I need to know. I’m so fucking curious, and-“

“This is the first problem,” Seungmin’s hand fell. He slipped the clips out of his hair, throwing him onto the floor where he’d dropped the face mask. “You don’t stop fucking talking. Have you ever thought of being quiet for more than five seconds?”

You shook your head, smiling teasingly. “I can’t say I have, no.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. He placed his laptop on the floor alongside his discarded items, off to the side of the sofa. “Are you really that curious?”

“So curious.”

“Get on the floor in front of me. On your knees,” Seungmin spoke, his voice suddenly monotone and strict. You were quick to follow his demands. Minho had told you to be good for him, after all. You sunk onto the floor on your knees, feeling the wood biting into your kneecaps. Looking up at Seungmin expectantly, he scoffed. “Don’t fucking look at me.”

Oh. Your eyes immediately dropped to the floor, feeling a telltale wetness pool in your core.

“Listen. Don’t talk,” Seungmin began. His hands were placed calmly on his legs, over another pair of those fucking plaid pyjama bottoms. At least he was wearing a shirt this time. Not for long, hopefully. “I’m going to give you a taster. I’m not going to take it easy on you. If you don’t like it, we walk away, move on and never comment on it again. If you like it, we will continue. How does that sound?”

You nodded.

“So dumb. You can talk now, obviously. I asked you a question.”

“Yeah, Seungmin. It sounds good,” You mumbled, still staring at the floor. Seungmin leaned forward, pulling your head back sharply by your hair. You fluttered your eyes shut, unwilling to look at him until he’d given you permission. You would be good. Minho had told you to be.

“Ready?” Seungmin asked. You hummed, and that seemed to be enough for him, because in one flurry of movement he’d raised one large hand and it was colliding against your cheek sharply. You could feel the skin already smarting, and you’d let out a loud, obnoxious moan at the pain. You wanted more - no, you needed more.

“Oh. My God,” you huffed out, chest heaving. You heard Seungmin chuckle condescendingly above you.

“You fucking liked that, didn’t you?”

He dropped your hair, leaning back. You nodded again at his words, rather eagerly, biting your lip. “Seungmin, oh my God. Please fuck me. Please?”

“Hmm. Sure, why not? I’ll play with you for a bit,” He mused. You could hear movement again, your eyes still shut. “Open your eyes. You can come to my bedroom with me.”

Immediately, your eyes opened, and you were scrambling to your feet. Seungmin had already started to walk out of the room and towards the large staircase leading to the bedrooms, and you had to pick up your pace to follow him. You knew where his room was. It was the same door you’d been rejected at - but now, you knew the reason for your rejection, and he knew you could handle it. You couldn’t fucking wait, almost vibrating with excitement.

Seungmin sat at the edge of his bed, legs spread. To avert your eyes from trying to stare at his dick, your eyes flitted around the room. It was neat. Pristine. Not one thing was out of place, including the white sheets. Even the blankets were tucked in the corner like a bed in a hotel. It made sense - you could remember Jisung and Seungmin being roommates before they joined the frat, and Seungmin always had something to say to Jisung regarding the state of the room.

Seungmin was a man who liked control. You could see that, most definitely, and it showed outside of sex too. It made you excited.

“I’m going to ask you again. Are you sure?” Seungmin spoke up. You finally looked at him, taking in his appearance. His face was still slightly dewy from the face mask and his plump lips were parted as he looked at you, eyes soft. The plaid pyjama bottoms encased his long legs, making him look way taller than he actually was, but the oversized t-shirt made him look like the soft boy you actually knew. Well, the soft boy you were getting to know. What better way to get to know him than to fall into bed with him?

“I’m sure, Seungmin,” You breathed out. You felt like you were getting a bit too excited, maybe. “I’ll… I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

“I’m afraid that’s not what I’m looking for, Y/N. I want it to be too much. Come and sit on my lap,” You obeyed, scurrying over to straddle those long legs. His hands immediately went to your hips, drawing soothing circles over your hip bones. “If it’s too much, I want you to say ‘red’. Can you do that for me?”

“I can do that,” You were speaking in a whisper again. Seungmin nodded, seemingly pleased.

Then, he was lurching forward, hand on the back of your head and bringing you in for a searing kiss. Those plump lips felt as good as they looked, slamming against you in a haze of vanilla chapstick and dominance. You immediately keened into the kiss, hands going up into his hair to try and get more of his lips against yours. Seungmin grabbed your hands instinctively, returning them to your lap.

“I’m not going to spank you for that, but one more disobedience, and I will,” He mumbled against your lips. You nodded, waiting patiently for him to kiss you again. He delivered - tongue immediately pressing into your mouth in a heated kiss instead. You let your lips work in harmony with his, a simple kiss turning into a heavy makeout session. It didn’t last long enough, though - he was quickly pulling away with a few more pecks to your lips. “Bend over my lap.”

Huh? “But- you said you weren’t going to-?”

“I’m not going to spank that pretty ass. Dumb sluts don’t ask questions,” Seungmin scoffed. “Be a good little bitch and bend over my lap. I’m not asking again.”

Oh God. You immediately scrambled to lay your tummy over his legs, and he was quick to yank your joggers down. You’d realised it had been getting close to laundry day, and so all you had left really were your skimpy thongs that were to be hand washed delicately.

“So you can follow orders, huh? Shocking,” Seungmin spat, one hand rubbing over your asscheek. With a quick move, he was pulling your ass apart. His other hand pressed your head down into the bed firmly. “Tell me again. How long have you wanted this? How long have you wanted to be treated like a fucktoy by me?”

You squirmed, sighing. “Since- since that night. With the others. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, Seungmin.”

Seungmin hummed, slender fingers pulling your thong down and revealing your pussy to him. You knew your folds were wet, slick and ready for him to fill you with something - his tongue, his fingers, his dick. You didn’t care at that point.

“Makes sense. This pussy’s fucking wet, didn’t need any convincing,” His lithe digits slid through your folds, teasing your hole over and over but not quite pushing in. You just had to keep repeating the same thing in your head - be good, be good, be fucking good.

You couldn’t hold back the shifting of your hips, however, trying to push back to gain more friction.

“Stop squirming,” Seungmin sighed. You nodded into the sheets, willing your hips to stop moving. On a particularly well timed brush against your hole though, your hips shifted again, a sigh falling from your own lips. Seungmin’s hand raised and came down against the flesh of your ass with a harsh smack, the skin rippling with the force. You gasped, head raising from the sheets. “I said to stop fucking squirming. Are you stupid or did you just choose not to listen?”

You blinked, willing the haze to leave your eyes as you tried to focus on the scene. “I’m s-sorry. Sorry Seungmin.”

With another quick move, Seungmin was flinging the fabric wrapped around your ankles off the rest of your legs and pulling you back upright into his lap. You were confused, wondering why he hadn’t fingered you, before he was looking into your eyes with a firm grip on your chin. It was a soft look on his face, a wordless question - are you doing okay? You smiled softly in response, and he looked to be holding back his own smile.

Dropping his grip on you, he leaned back, leisurely resting on his hands. “You want to get off? Go on. You can grind on my lap. You lost the pleasure of having my fingers in you when you disobeyed me.”

“On- on your lap?” You asked, eyes looking down at the bulge encased in plaid fabric. He wasn’t quite hard, maybe half hard at a push. Seungmin didn’t answer your question, simply raising an eyebrow.

You hesitantly ground your clit down against Seungmin’s bulge. It was surprisingly pleasurable, perhaps too pleasurable - you were already holding back noises at the feeling of it against your swollen bud. You could feel the wetness starting to accumulate on Seungmin’s trousers, and you whined, leaning back with your hands splayed on his knees to get a better angle.

“Feeling good?” Seungmin asked. The t-shirt you were wearing was almost covering you completely, but Seungmin was quick to yank that off, too, giving him a better look. “Shit, look at that pussy. I’m going to toy with you until you fucking break.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You blurted, hips quickening on his lap. “Yeah, break me- make me, make me good, yeah?”

“Make you a good little bitch, huh?” Seungmin replied. He raised an eyebrow, looking down at the wet patch forming on top of him. “You are a filthy little thing, aren’t you? Look at you getting off on being treated like this.”

Your eyes went down to his lap, widening at the way the fabric was wet with your juices. It only made you grind harder, hands moving up to grip his shoulders tightly. He allowed this, clearly, his own body moving upright for his hands to grab your hips.

“Oh, that look in your eyes. So out of it, fucked dumb and you haven’t even gotten my cock inside you,” Seungmin was laughing. He was laughing at you, degrading you, humiliating you - and it only made your pussy flush wetter. One hand came up to stroke hair out of your face, and it landed on your cheek, cupping it almost softly compared to the way he was speaking. “Are you gonna cum?”

You moaned loudly. You were going to cum, the feeling of impending bliss crawling up your spine and pushing you closer to the edge. “Yeah, yeah, I-“

“Aw, you’re gonna cum?” He cooed, a false sound of sympathy. His hand immediately went to your hair, yanking your head back once again and making you squeal. “Too bad. I decide when you cum and how you cum. You’re not cumming yet. Okay?”

It was a rhetorical question. It had to be, because you couldn’t form words at this point. Instead, your hips slowed down, staring into Seungmin’s round eyes. He screwed up his face in disappointment, using his free hand to move your hips again.

“Don’t you fucking slow down. You keep going.”

Oh God, you were going to die. You whined obediently anyway, picking up your pace again. The feeling of being close returned almost immediately, accelerated by his hand in your hair and his filthy words.

“Beg. Beg for me to allow you to fucking cum.”

“Please, please Seungmin- I can’t hold it, I can’t-“

“You can, and you fucking will,” Seungmin retorted instantly. That cocky smirk was on his lips again. “Not good enough. Beg.”

“Please! Please, please, I’ll be so good for you, I promise. I’ll be- I’ll be your good little slut, yeah? Yeah? Can I cum? Please?” You were babbling again, eyes fluttering shut and your thighs clenching around his hips. It was taking every nerve in your body to try not to cum before he told you that you were allowed. You had to be good.

“Mm. Okay. Cum for me, c’mon,” You instantly arched your back, fingers digging in even tighter on those nice, broad shoulders. You moaned loudly as you came, eyes watering with tears at the intensity of it. He’d be lucky if he didn’t have to throw those pyjama trousers out, to be honest. You could feel your pussy flooding the cotton.

Once you came down from your high, Seungmin’s hand relaxed in your hair. You were sufficiently sated, but you had to see it through. Shifting around on his lap, you noticed something out of the ordinary.

You just had one of the strongest orgasms of your life and he wasn’t even hard.

“Um, Seungmin. You’re… not hard?”

Seungmin laughed again, a condescending chime to your ears. “Why the fuck would I get hard over a slut like you in my lap?”

Oh. It was very hard to ignore the incessant throbbing in your pussy returning from that one comment. Your eyes widened, giving you away, and Seungmin licked his lips.

Not hard, though? Maybe you had to be a little bratty to get your way. “What if I showed you my pussy, Seungmin? You wanna see? ‘S wet for you.”

“For me?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure just being present in this house gets that slutty cunt wet. Lay on your back.”

Damn. He always had to one up you, always putting you in your place. You loved every second of it. You moved off of his lap, laying on your back and staring at him expectantly. He stood up, shucking his t-shirt off and folding it up as if he had all the time in the world - because of course he did. His body was exposed to you again, and you took your time ogling him. Slender figure, but lightly toned. Very nice. He pulled off his pyjama trousers, again folding those too, and when he turned to face the bed, you saw it.

Big. Long. It was similar to Hyunjin’s. Nice and long, but not an abundance of girth, not like Changbin’s. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but what it was looking like was very promising.

“Stop eyeing up my cock,” Your eyes immediately darted up, finding a teasing, amused expression on Seungmin’s face. He was quick to make his way onto the bed, and you gazed up at him needily. Before you could even speak, his hands had flipped you over so you were on your stomach. “All fours.”

Obediently, you shifted to rest on your hands and knees. It was hard, arching like that and feeling your wet pussy leak down your thigh in need.

“Beg for it. Beg for me to fuck you,” Seungmin’s fingers swiped through your folds again, and a wet noise filling the room displayed that he was jerking his cock to full mast using your pussy as lubrication. You moaned, turning your head to watch. His hand quickly shoved your head back in the pillows. “I said fucking beg.”

“Oh God, please, Seungmin,” You whined, muffled by the pillows. “Please. I need it, I need to fuck you. I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

“Hmm, you have been good. But have you earned it? Do you think you’ve earned it?” More rustling of fabric was heard and then Seungmin’s cockhead was pressing at your core. You gasped, trying to push your hips back onto him. His hand came down on your ass in a loud smacking noise. You could feel the skin turning red with the pressure.

You almost fell over with the impact, clutching onto the sheets desperately. “Please! Please. I promise I’ll be good, I promise-“

“Listen to you, begging like the pathetic little bitch you are. That pussy’s so wet for me,” Seungmin swiped the tip of his length through your folds. The sensation made you whine, but you fought to not push back. With a small hum of approval, he was pushing in all at once - bottoming out instantly. He gave you no time to adjust, thrusting into you at a fast, precise pace. Of course he’d know how to fuck. It just made perfect sense.

“Oh-! Oh, ‘s deep,” You writhed, feeling his cock hit your g-spot. More. More. Fucking more. “It’s so deep, Seungmin, I-“

“God, shut the fuck up. Listen to your pussy, the sounds it’s making for me. Listen to how much your pussy wants my cock,” Seungmin yanked your head up again, a large hand covering your mouth. His other hand rested on your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. True to his word, when he covered your mouth, you could hear the wet slapping sounds of your tight hole hitting his balls. “Minho was right. That pussy does feel nice and tight on my cock.”

You squealed at the mention of your lover, toes curling into the sheets. It was muffled by Seungmin’s hand, and he shoved two fingers into your mouth upon hearing the noise. Sucking on them dutifully, you let out another quieted noise when his other hand smacked onto your ass roughly. His thrusts didn’t slow down, cock bullying into your hole and pushing you steadily into your climax.

“Should I send a video to Minho? Should I show him how much of a good slut you can be when you’ve been broken in?” He halted his pace, grinding softly against you. You could feel the brush of hair against your asscheeks and you whined, pushing your hips back.

You shook your head rapidly, garbled words coming out. “N-No! No, Seungmin, just- harder, please, hnngg, need it harder-“

“Harder? You’re not in the position to make commands. So fucking dumb,” Seungmin yanked his fingers out of your mouth and pushed down on your back roughly. When you flailed, trying to catch yourself, he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. The slow pace continued, just grinding against you rather than fucking you senseless like you wanted. “Maybe I still have to break you in. Do you need to be shown how to fucking behave?”

“I’m good, ‘m good, promise- I promise, Seungie, ‘m good,” You mumbled out, eyes hazy from where they’d been pressed against the pillow. Seungmin laughed at your use of his nickname before he completely pulled his cock out of your pussy. You whined, hating the loss of fullness, but then his hand was dropping from your ass and filling you up with two long digits.

“I’m going to make you cum like this,” He murmured, eyes focused on where your hole was leaking out around his fingers. His fingertips expertly crooked down to meet your g-spot, frantic rubbing bringing your high right to the precipice, as if he’d never stopped fucking you. Your legs were shaking, trying so hard not to squirm. Seungmin dropped your wrists, smiling when he saw you kept them where he’d put them. His hand smacked another large handprint into the flesh of your ass. “Feeling good, slut?”

“Aah… ‘s good..”

“Fucking hell, maybe I have broken you,” A scoff was heard ringing around the room, making you feel so used, humiliated and plain fucking horny. Seungmin used two fingers on his free hand to rub precise circles around your clit, using the wetness of your pussy to make the slide slick on your swollen bud. You were done for. Your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers when you came, whines and broken noises flooding out of your mouth.

With a swift move, Seungmin was shoving long slick covered fingers around your throat and his cock back into your pussy. It made you gasp, eyes fluttering shut and your hips softly rocking as he picked up his fast pace again.

“‘S too much, Seungie,” you whined, shaking your head. Seungmin yanked your head back to face him where his chest was pressed against your back, raising an eyebrow at your expression. “I can’t-“

“You can’t? You know your safeword. If it’s too much, you say it,” Seungmin reminded you. Of course you knew your safeword. Red. You hadn’t forgotten it. You just would probably die if he stopped. When you didn’t reply, simply letting out another audible moan, Seungmin smirked and let your head drop again. “Fucking bitch. You want it to be too much, don’t you?”

You squealed when he grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling you back against every thrust. Your hands stayed obediently behind your back, gasps and loud moans flooding past your open mouth. Your jaw was perpetually dropped as he fucked your slick back into you, your toes curling in ecstasy.

All too quick, Seungmin’s pace faltered, and his head dropped to in between your shoulders. His hair tickled your skin as he sighed deeply, uneven thrusts continuing inside of you. “I’m gonna cum. Pussy’s too fucking wet. Fuck, you’re such a good little slut for me, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah! Good- ah- slut for you, Seungmin. Cum inside me, please? N-Need it!”

“Need it inside you? Or do you want to taste it, whore? Wanna taste my cum?”

“Fuck, yeah, taste-“

Seungmin was pulling out with a swift movement, yanking your hair so you were sitting upright facing him. You stuck your tongue out obediently before you allowed your eyes to open, gazing up at him.

God, he was a pretty fucking picture. Lightly tanned skin covered in a dew of sweat just like your own, large hand pumping a just as large cock right in front of your face. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Seungmin groaned, his head falling back as cum started to paint your tongue white. You moaned, curling your tongue around the cockhead to catch all of the substance.

“You are fucking gorgeous,” Seungmin huffed, deep groans still racking his chest as he came all over your tongue. You wanted to smile, but you suckled on his cockhead approvingly instead.

Immediately, once Seungmin had finished painting your tongue with his cum, he was pulling out of your mouth and pushing you softly to lay down. You let out a confused noise, but he was already up and grabbing some baby wipes and a bottle of water from his drawer. You laid there, mind still hazy while Seungmin wiped you down with baby wipes.

“Does anything hurt?” He questioned, rubbing soft fingertips over your thighs. It should’ve felt awkward, just lying there naked, but your mind was too fuzzy to care.

“No, ‘m okay, just a little sensitive,” You mumbled, enjoying the feeling of soft sheets against your burning skin. Seungmin nodded, tossing the baby wipes on the floor carelessly before sidling up next to you. He slung one arm around your tummy, pulling you over so that you were laying on his chest.

“Are you okay?” You nodded. Seungmin hummed, running his fingers through your hair. “You did really good for me, y’know that? Took it so well.”

You made a small noise of affirmation before Seungmin was grabbing the forgotten bottle of water, pressing the rim to your lips. Obediently, you glugged back half of the bottle in one go before falling back onto his chest.

After blinking the haze out of your eyes a few times, you finally felt human again. “Seungmin, you fuck like an animal.”

Seungmin burst out laughing, drinking some of the water himself between giggles. “I did warn you!”

You laughed yourself, slapping his arm softly. Seungmin was still giggling, soft vibrations of his chest making your head shake on top of him.

“Was it worth it?”

You blinked. “Stupid question. So fucking worth it. 10/10, would do it again.”

“You still have one to go, y’know. You can’t be coming back to me for more, Chan will get jealous and wonder when it’s his turn.”

One? You perked up your head, looking into Seungmin’s puppy eyes. “I’ve got two to go, not one. Chan and Jeongin.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “You can’t fuck Jeongin.”

You scoffed. “Why not?”

“He’s a virgin, Y/N.”

Oh, now that was interesting.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @queenofthegardengnomes @boomfrogg @hoeinthehouse @msaddictions @sunnyhonie @hizliyuruyen @jyu037 @jouoy @drhsthl @seungincore @jellylver @veedoesntknaur @meloncremesoda @k-poplv @livieloo914 @fekixfmp @fawnpeaks @minnielvr @imastraykidsfan @hanjisung2023 @hoelynecujoh @kyrviu @sxgeofprohets @everydreams-penumbra @chaneomma @kkissreol @phtogravi @secretjj @princelingperfect @personawthai @dirah-h @straykids5star @luvhyux @chuuswifereal @stg110 @cookiesandmilfx @number1seungminstan @skzswife @starsandrqindrops @poody1608 @cutiespaghetti @hwa-0403 @i8rsie @kpopsstuffs @everyonehatesshani @han8ul @velentine143 @vixensss @cuddlehye @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @angeldhd @comicnerd557 @leeknowfz @imwithurmother @hrtsformin @maknae00 @teaholic @ficrecnctskz @tasteskz-sworld @ilychee08 @thehomotron8000 @romynochill @freckleboilix @yunhorights @marrivmel @realrintaro @leoisanot8-wh0re @jazzyluuv @telesvng @jihanlovic

#kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids series #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #hot bitch summer: go ahead and cry #hot bitch summer #skz smut #skz x reader #skz fic #skz series #skz imagines #seungmin smut #seungmin fic #seungmin fanfic #juno’s fics ♡

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sweetimpurity · 1 month ago

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ day seven!! yay!! kinda want to draw this one wc: 1.3k masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I’d love to talk more about your plans, you can let my assistant know and we’ll set up a meeting… thank you so much…” Your husband smiles charmingly, shaking the hand of another higher up. Someone with money and status. This entire room is full of money and diamonds. Shaking the hand of the man, his other arm draped around your waist and keeping you close. You’re the only reason he can even stand events like this. He keeps up the forced smile. But only you know it’s mostly fake. It’s not the same smile he wore when you said “I do” or the smile you wake up to in the morning.

“Let’s get out of here, babe…” He whispers in your ear once the group of guests finally disperse. Everyone who’s here, mingling around the vast space, drinking, laughing and talking. The rich and influential here to network. It’s an Alchemax charity event after all. “You’re the CEO, Mig, you can’t just leave…” You smile, adjusting his black tie over his chest, the knot at the top and the material smoothed down his broad chest under his jacket.

“I’ve already shaken enough hands, I wanna shake you…” He jokes, a bad joke at that, nuzzling his face into your neck for a moment, rolling your eyes at his unapologetic displays of affection in this crowded room. Unable to stop the smile on your lips. “You wanna shake me?” Your brow raises teasingly, pretending you don’t already know. “I’m not sure I know what you mean…” You sigh, sipping your drink through the little straw. Making him roll his eyes now.

“What I mean is I want to have sex with you, mi amor…”

He says it so clearly and a little too loud. Making your eyes widen. But nobody seems to notice. “I wanna take you home… rip that dress off… bend you over and have you all to myself…” He says low and sultry, right in your ear. “You understand what I mean now?” He murmurs, his big hand moving from your lower back to your ass. Unashamed; just grabbing a handful, running his fingers over the silky fabric of your dress. Pressing himself to your hip so you can feel him, standing you between his legs.

“Control yourself…” You sigh, looking away, looking around to see if anyone’s giving you looks. He is the man of the hour as usual. “We’re not leaving… not when you have to give a speech in 30 minutes…”

“C’mon baby… you look too good. I don’t care about all this…” He whispers, wrapping both arms around you, pulling you closer, finding your eyes, always wanting eye contact. He does look so good. In that suit you love. The pressed collar and stark black and white. Reminds you of marrying him all over again every time you see him in a suit like that.

“What are you proposing? I’m not letting you skip out on this speech. All these people are here to hear you speak.” You say, wanting to know what he wants to do about it. He’s stubborn and for the genius he is, he sometimes doesn’t even consider the facts. That you’re surrounded by people and low on time. Not a lot of options.

“I have an idea…”

…

His hands are hungry, his lips even hungrier, latching onto your neck and practically pushing you down the hall. The sounds of the live quartet and conversation fading in the background, backing down the hall towards his office door. And when your back presses against the cold glass door, he’s on you, not leaving you without his touch for long. Hands running down your waist to your bum, kissing your lips, dipping his tongue into your mouth and swirling it around yours. One of his hands reaches towards the panel on the wall while his face dips into your neck. Absentmindedly pressing his fingers on the reader to scan his fingerprint and open the damn door already. Pressing his erection into your tummy through his pants, through your dress. His need for you. When the door finally slides open, he doesn’t waste any time, scooping you up with his arms under your thighs, picking you up like it’s nothing and walking to his desk.

“We should do quickies more often…” He grins, setting you down on the metal desk, feeling like a couple of teenagers doing something naughty. Hands immediately moving around to the zipper on your back as he kisses your reddened neck, pulling it down gently and watching the fabric relax over your chest and shoulders. You stand up for a moment to step out of it, letting it pool at your heels. Looking up at him and he presses one kiss to your lips, tender and soft. Then one more to the column of your throat. He leans back up, pulling at the knot in his tie to get it off.

“Wait wait-” You urge him, looking up at the confused look on his face as he freezes. “Can you leave it on?”

“Leave it on, baby?” He laughs softly, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah just…” You look down, pulling at his metal belt buckle, the clinks of the cold material around your fingers, pulling it open. Undoing his fly, releasing some of the tension in his pants which have grown quite tight. Once his pants are undone, your hands run up his shirt, under the material, feeling his hot skin and his abdomen moving with every breath. “Leave it on…”

…

“Feel that baby? Feels good?” He huffs, a hand in your hair, the other on your lower back keeping you pressed to the desk as he bottoms out. Buried deep in your dripping pussy and staying there, stretching you out. Bent over the edge of the metal structure, panties lazily pulled to the side to allow him access. “Mmm Miguel please… feels so good…”

It does feel good. To be filled to the brim, taking him all the way to your cervix. His tip kissing all your deepest spots, brushing past the places that have you on your tippy toes. And when he pulls out to thrust back inside, your mind melts. Moaning loud against the cold surface, feeling him piston back in. Coating his length in your slick and the pumps becoming easier and easier as he keeps going. Working up a rhythm, his chest heaving and out of breath already. Groaning at the way you’re squeezing him. Like your pussy was made to take his dick like this.

His skin slaps against yours, slick and precum making a mess between your thighs, your panties sticky and soiled.

“Baby look…” His words just pass your ears without you even hearing them. Your mind mush and occupied focusing on how fucking good he’s fucking you right now.

“Baby look at that… look at you…” He huffs, forcing your head up gently with his hand in your hair, careful not to pull too hard but enough so that you can witness the sight. Glancing at the large office windows. The dark outside allows you to see all that’s going on in the room. Through the reflection in the glass. The sight of him over you, pounding into you from behind. His tie hanging loosely around his neck and his shirt all tussled, his big heavy watch as he grips your hair. Watching yourself get fucked. Watching him watching himself fucking you. It’s all too much.

As if the sight caused some pocket inside you to burst, your eyes clamp shut, crying his name and coming immediately. No warning. Just instantly gushing. His dick pounding into you even as your juices drip and dribble to the floor, flooding around his cock, making him moan and shudder. “Oh that’s a good girl…” He grins, feeling you squirt and gush on him. Hearing the fluttering sounds leaving your sweet lips. “Fuck…” He huffs, pumping into you once harder, then even harder again. Slapping against you, making you drip even more as he fucks it all out again. Filling you soon enough with his seed, coming to a sudden stop and letting himself deposit in you with a huff.

…

About 15 minutes later. He’s standing at the podium, addressing the hundreds in attendance for his speech about the company. Smiling and glowing and only you know why. Your panties stuffed in his jacket pocket. An oddly pleasant ache between your thighs.

Taglist!!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

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mingtinys · 7 months ago

Text

" i am so proud of you "

pairing : hansol chwe x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : got a little carried away with this one , something about writing for vernon is just so fun

"I was thinking, why don't we go out tomorrow to that restaurant you really like? To celebrate and all."

"I'd really like that." You call back, glancing over at your boyfriend who is still busy washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Though he isn't looking directly at you, you can just make out the excited look in his eyes and the toothy grin gracing his lips. He's been like that since you told him about your promotion at work. Honestly, you didn't expect him to make such a fuss over it. It was a relatively small promotion, just a raise and a slightly higher title. But that sunny expression on his face could make someone think you'd hit CEO status.

"I'll make reservations after I finish up here." His words are barely audible over the running water. You're about to thank him when your phone buzzes to life beside you.

Incoming call from Boo Seungkwan.

Seungkwan? You think, narrowing your eyes at the screen. Why on earth could he be calling you and not Hansol?

"Hello?"

"Y/N!" His excited voice comes through the speaker. "You're not busy right?"

"Not really, no. Why, what's up?"

"I— well we all wanted to call and congratulate you on your promotion!" A chorus of voices flood your phone and you take it you're on speaker with the rest of the members.

"That's very sweet of you all, thank you." It's nice, having so many people in your corner cheering you on. "But how'd you know? I only just found out about it a couple hours ago."

"You're joking right?" It sounds like Chan. "Hansol won't shut up about it in the group chat."

"He talks about me?" You ask no one in particular

"Yeah, like an annoying amount." That's definitely Mingyu.

There's a short altercation on the other side of the call, probably Seungkwan trying to wrestle his phone back from various members. But you don't pay much mind, the warm feeling in your chest taking over all other senses. You let your gaze drift back to Hansol, who is now on his laptop, nodding along to whatever song is currently playing in his head.

"Just, give it here—! Sorry about that," Seungkwan's voice jolts you from a daze. "Anyways, we just wanted to give you our compliments. We'll let you get back to your night."

Good, because tears are already welling up at your lashes and you're not sure how much longer you can hold back the stitch in your throat. "I appreciate it, tell everyone I said thank you."

You hang up before Seungkwan can respond and promptly make your way to the kitchen. Hansol's nose is still buried in his laptop, eyes squinted as his fingers peck at the keys. "Okay," He says upon the realization of your presence. He hits the enter key rather dramatically. "Reservations are made and you're . . ." His words teeter off when he looks up, met with your tear-filled gaze.

He takes a beat. Brows furrowed and head cocked to the side. "–You're crying. Shit, wait— why are you crying?" Hansol panics. He rushes to you, taking your face between his warm hands. Holding you the way one would hold fine China. Carefully, his thumb comes to swipe a stray tear from your cheek.

"You tell your members about me?" You sniffle. Hansol's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes like a fish before he conjures up an answer. "Was I not supposed to?"

The pure concerned cluelessness in his voice makes you giggle and he seems to relax when he realizes he's not in trouble. "I just didn't know you bragged about me like that, it's sweet."

"I am so proud of you," Hansol speaks with unashamed sincerity. "Why wouldn't I brag about your accomplishments?"

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

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nekomanager · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ♡ BLUE LOCK

REO, NAGI, ISAGI, BACHIRA, CHIGIRI, RIN ; their moments with you that got them the hardest

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 ⋮ f!reader, oral, jerk-off instructions, 69, unprotected sex, praise, fingering

♡ REO

From your toes up to your forehead, he loved to explore every corner of your body with his hands, his fingers, his tongue—tasting every bit of your skin and juices.

Reo knew how it embarrasses you whenever he gave extra attention to your body, but he wanted you to listen to him as he told you how addicted he was to your breasts. You melted in his arms whenever he'd bury his face in your chest, fondle them and taste them in between his lips.

He was always on his knees while you guided him how to make you feel better and show him where you want to be touched.

"M-More..." You moaned and his dick hardened. He gulped as he saw you open your legs wider for him to see your glistening pussy, so fucking wet. But he wanted something more.

"Tell me where you want it more." He teased as he heaved. If you won't give him the answer, he'd get it out for you. Heaving, his fingers, his tongue tentatively touched your pussy, until you cave in and tell him where you want him in exactly.

"H-Here..." You begged, but he just continued with his torturous toying.

"Where?"

"R-Reo...." You whined. "P-Please, here..." You placed your finger on your pussy. "Inside me."

In no time, his hard cock penetrated you raw. His mouth ran with praises letting you know how good you made him feel, how tight you were and how perfect your body was against his touch.

“So good, angel. You’re so fucking good! Keep it going.” He said through gritted teeth as he lovingly pet the top of your head.

♡ NAGI

There were times when he's just baffled by how he managed to end up with someone like you that he would kiss you right then and there regardless of the people around.

He loved pinning you against the wall, kissing you with such hunger and desire that he took your breath as you inhaled against his mouth, him just simply sucking your tongue and getting drunk in your taste. Filthy and dirty, but he really didn't care anymore.

Sei hid it in a calm facade but he's obsessed with fucking you. He knew how much you loved it whenever he'd cling to you and would lazily fuck you in random. He loved watching your pussy slide down his hardened cock as you ride him, his hands gripping tightly on your waist. Make him hiss as you grind him down and as he pushed his pelvis up to match your movements.

He always wanted to remind you of the very first time you've made love. He wanted to remind you that there's no other man who could claim you but him. Only him. And just like that, he desired to fuck you hard to sleep, taking you from behind and making you cum over and over again that you lose all the energy to keep up with him.

♡ BACHIRA

He's just so turned on by how you never fail to surprise him in bed, seeing a different side to you that you don’t normally show in public. Normally, he often stole a dirty glance of your ass, your breasts, your body in general. Sometimes, he’s unashamed to be pretty obvious about it. And now, you were alone, he was hyped that he’s the one who can bring out the naughty in your angel. Meguru admired it whenever you sixty-nine. He liked the sense of competitiveness to prove that he could please you a lot better. He wanted you on top of him as he worked magic with his fingers.

"M-Meguuu—"

"Are you losing it, Y/N?" He asked, excitedly as if it was his victory that you could no longer pump his dick because his fingers were rapidly toying your pussy. It encouraged him to pleasure you even more using his tongue so you could finally see stars.

"T-That's—"

"I know you liked it whenever I circled just around your clit." He smiled. "You're just so sexy, Y/N. I can't wait to get inside you already." And he kept adoring and narrating everything that he did to your body.

"Please...don't say things like that. It's unfair!"

He chuckled and got even stiffer. He loves it whenever you get flustered because of this. He shifted so he could align his cock along your cunt and he gave you an excited smile that implied, you're gonna get it hard this time.

Your gasped as he entered you. He hovered close to your body and whispered agansint your ear, “Yeah, you want it slow and deep like this, don’t you?”

♡ ISAGI

His most favorite time with you was whenever you greet him home with a warm embrace. He'd wrap his arms around your soft frame and kissed you wildly. Next thing you knew, you’re out of your breath and out of your clothes, naked. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you standing. He'd take to bed...that's if you really managed going to your bed...and you both get lost in each other.

He wanted to see you all spent up because of him. He loved it whenever he's taking you nice and slow while he filled you up so that you could feel his length, his girth stretching your walls out. He lose it whenever you felt so hot against him. His control all gone as he surrendered in the way he pounded your tight cunt—eyes closed, sweat dripping off the the side of his face and down the plane of his rather toned body—cheeks all flushed and lips parted as he feels losing himself in the process.

"Love, aughhh...can't help it..." He let out as he came inside you. His back painted with your scratches.

He'd kiss you deep while you cum, pouring himself with how he consumed your mouth and took your breath. He'd keep you close and feel every inch of you and you feel every inch of him again until you feel sleepy in his arms.

♡ CHIGIRI

He loved it every time you secretly showered with him—just the two of you under the sprinkling water, bodies so slippery. Him just licking, nibbling on your shoulder, your nipples and eating you out until you didn't know anymore if it's the bath shower drenching you or your own fluid.

He just loved it whenever he saw you pissed off, because he won't give you what you wanted that easy. He loved your reaction whenever you pout and get mad at him. He was challenged to see how long could you act so bratty and angry to him when he started using his mouth on you, circling his tongue on the lips of your pussy and teasing you with tentative pressure so you'll beg for more.

"Really, princess? I thought you hate me." Seeing your reaction from totally annoyed and irritated at him to a whining little mess, excited him a lot. It always happened like this and you always end up crying for him to put his pretty dick inside of you.

♡ RIN

He secretly loved it whenever he caught you playing with yourself while he's back from a training or a game. Seeing how much you missed him and craved him by screaming his name as you sank your fingers inside your folds. He'd instruct you what to do with his eyes dark and trained on you.

"Say my name louder." He knelt before you and guided your fingers to sink deeper and press on your clit.

"Rin..."

"Yeah, just like that. Be my good girl."

He'd pull down his shorts and show you how hard you made him, stroking his own fully-erect cock in front of you but you're not allowed to touch.

"Just watch." He warned as he stroke himself. The way he pumped on us length got you fingering your needy pussy at the same time.

"Please, I need you." You begged for him as your pussy throbbed until his dick to finally be inside. However, he did not give it right away. Instead, he massaged the lips of your cunt with his tongue. Your head spun with his skillful movements, until you're out of your mind and putty for him to be inside of you.

"Rin! Rin!"

He loved seeing those teary pleading eyes and it makes him ever harder. Though Rin, might put on a distant attitude, deep inside his deepest desire was to cuddlefuck you, so he got you pinned in bed. Your arms clutched tightly around him and his too, pounding you hard and kissing you all over like it's his own way of breathing. He won't stop until you climax, screaming how much you love him.

#reo smut #nagi smut #bachira smut #chigiri smut #itoshi rin smut #isagi smut #blue lock smut #bllk smut #reo x reader #nagi x reader #bachira x reader #chigiri x reader #rin smut #rin x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader

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emmylksblog · 4 months ago

Note

Hey I love your stories and account

I wanted to ask if you could do a Hector fort x fem reader story

The reader is Marc guiu‘s sister and she mets hector fort for the first time at an after party (party for winning a match) and then you can come up with something I’m not that creative😭

DANCING DESIRES // H.FORT

requested

content: suggestive, smut

warnings: bad written smut

words: 3613

a/n: sorry for being so late, i got writers block and also tried to figure out how to write smut, hope it’s not that lame 😭

The party is hot and cramped. You push through drunk bodies sweating through clothes and perfume. You don't like parties, but you're here because your brother was insistent that you came here.

Suddenly, someone grabs your hand, yanking you to the side. You turn around, coming face-to-face with Hector Fort. Your brother's teammate and best friend.

His eyes are dark and intense as they lock onto yours, and his grip is firm. "What are you doing here by yourself?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth.

You scan his face, noticing the slightly off-balance nature and the smell of alcohol on his breath. Yep, he's definitely had a few too many drinks.

"I could ask you the same thing," you reply, trying to keep your voice casual. He’s very handsome, with his tousled hair and his intense gaze. Focus, you think to yourself.

"Me? I'm just enjoying a drink after my game," he says, a sly smile playing at the corner of his lips. "But I couldn't help noticing you alone over here. Te ves un poco perdida. (You look a little lost)"

You roll your eyes, feeling a flush of annoyance. "I'm not lost. I'm just here against my will, watching out for my idiot brother. He's somewhere around here, getting drunk off his ass."

Hector chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, so you're the responsible one. That's a shame, I was hoping for some fun tonight."

"Yeah well, somebody has to be responsible," you say, unable to help feeling a spark of attraction to his confident arrogance. Bad idea, very bad idea, you should just walk away, you think to yourself.

Hector leans in closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Come on, lighten up a little. I bet you can be fun when you want to be," he says, his voice low and seductive.

You scoff, trying to act unphased by his charm. "Oh please, I've seen your type before. I bet you've got a dozen girls eating out of the palm of your hand at every party you go to."

He grins, unashamed. "And yet here I am, wanting to talk to you." He steps closer, invading her personal space. "There's just something about you that's different. I can't quite put my finger on it."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "That was the most cliché line I've ever heard. Do you use that with every girl you meet?"

Hector laughs, not seeming bothered by your bluntness, if anything it only seems to intrigue him more. "I don't need pickup lines to get girls. But I was hoping it would work on you," he says with a coy smile.

You roll your eyes again and shake your head. "As if. You're going to have to work a lot harder than that."

His smile widens, his eyes lighting up with a challenge. "Oh yeah? And what do I get if I prove to you that I'm serious?"

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. "You first have to prove to me why I even should give you my time."

Hector steps closer still, now only a breath away. His voice drops to a low, seductive murmur. "Because you're the most beautiful, captivating woman in this entire room. And I can't take my eyes off of you."

Your heart jumps in your chest, caught off guard by his directness. You try to stay cool, but you can't help the hint of a flush rising to your cheeks. "That's a start. But you're going to have to do better than flattery."

Hector grins, loving the fact that he's gotten a reaction out of her. "Then how about I show you instead? Come dance with me."

You hesitate for a moment, caught between wanting to shut him down and secretly wanting to see where this goes. Finally, you decide to throw caution to the wind. "Fine. One dance."

He grins triumphantly and takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor. The music is loud and the air is thick with bodies grinding together. Hector pulls you close to him, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Suddenly interrupting the rhythm of your dance your brother Marc emerges from the crowd.

Marc's eyes flick between the two of you, his expression changing from surprise to irritation. "Qué estás haciendo con ella? (what are you doing with her?) " he asks Hector, his voice low and protective.

Hector grins sheepishly, clearly trying to avoid causing a scene. "Calm down, Marc. I was just having a chat with your pretty sister here."

Marc's eyes narrow as he steps closer to the two of you. "Yeah, I can see that. But why do you have your hands all over her?"

"Marc, relájate. Todo está bien. (, relax. Everything's alright) Hector's just had a bit too much to drink," you say, trying to calm your overprotective brother down.

Marc looks at Hector skeptically, but he seems to relax a little at your words. "Are you sure? You don't want me to kick his ass?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head at your overprotective brother. "Marc, eres muy ridículo a veces. Hector está borracho y solo estaba hablando conmigo. Además, él todavía es tu mejor amigo, ¿no es así?" ("Marc, you are very ridiculous sometimes. Hector is drunk and was just talking to me. Besides, he is still your best friend, isn't he?")

Marc huffs, still not fully convinced. "Yeah, he's my best friend. But you're my sister, and I don't like seeing him putting his hands all over you."

You can't help but laugh at your brother's protectiveness. "Marc, I can handle myself, you know that. I'm not some fragile little flower. Besides, Hector's harmless."

Hector chuckles, clearly enjoying the dynamic between you and your brother. "Yeah, I'm harmless. And I have to say, your sister here is quite feisty. You should give her more credit."

Marc looks at Hector and then at you, his gaze softening. "Fine, I'll back off. But if you do anything to hurt her, I will kick your ass. Got it?"

Hector holds up his hands in surrender, his expression mock-serious. "Understood, boss. I promise I'll behave."

Marc gives Hector a firm tap on the shoulder and leans in to whisper something to him. Though you can't hear what he's saying, you see Hector's expression soften, and he nods at whatever your brother had said. Marc then shoots you a final protective look before disappearing into the crowd.

"What did he say to you?" you ask Hector curiously, wondering what your brother could have said that made him look so unusually serious.

You can't help but think about how protective your brother had acted just now, wondering what it was that made him so adamant that you not spend time with Hector. He must think I'm not capable of handling myself, you think to yourself, annoyance prickling up your spine.

"I can tell what you're thinking," Hector says suddenly, breaking the thread of your thoughts.

You turn to look at him, surprised. "And what am I thinking, listo (smartass)?"

Hector grins at your sassiness. "You're thinking that your brother is too protective, and you're wondering why he's so against the idea of us getting to know each other."

You frown, not liking how accurately he had guessed your thoughts. "And if I am? So what?"

He leans in closer, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If you want to know the truth, I think I know why he's so protective."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity getting the better of you. "Oh yeah? And what's the reason behind my brother's overprotectiveness?

Hector grins, clearly enjoying having your full attention. "Promise you won't get mad if I tell you?"

You huff, already getting a sense of what he's going to say. "I can't guarantee that. But go on, tell me anyway."

Hector leans in even closer, his voice low and intimate. "I think it's because your brother knows me better than almost anyone. And he knows that I have a bit of a reputation for being a heartbreaker."

You look him straight in the eye, not intimidated. "Is that so? You think you can break my heart that easily?"

Hector chuckles, clearly enjoying your confidence. "I didn't say I could, I just said that's what your brother thinks. But let's be real, I could probably have you begging for more within a week if I wanted to."

Feeling emboldened, you step closer to Hector and whisper in his ear, your voice low and sultry. "Bold of you to assume you could break my heart. But if you think you're up to the challenge, I bet I could have you begging for more before the night is through."

Hector's eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting your forwardness. The challenge has been issued, and he can't back down now. "Is that so? You think you could have me wrapped around your little finger that easily?"

You grin, enjoying the flicker of doubt you see in his eyes. "Oh, I know I could. But the question is, are you brave enough to take the bet?"

Hector's gaze heats up with a mix of desire and caution. "I don't back down from a challenge. But you better bring your A-game if you think you can tame me so easily."

You lean in closer, your breath tickling his ear. "Oh, don't worry. I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Feeling a sense of victory, you decide it's time to start playing your game. You press closer to Hector, your body almost flush against his. You tilt your head, allowing your lips to brush against his ear as you speak. "Here's how this is going to play out. We're going to dance, and every now and then, I'm going to touch you in a way that you wouldn't expect."

Hector shivers, the sensation of your lips against his ear sending a jolt of electricity down his spine. "And what happens if I can't handle it?" he asks, his voice hoarse with anticipation.

You chuckle, enjoying how quickly he's unraveling under your touch. "If you can't handle it, then I win," you reply smoothly. "But be warned, I don't play fair."

Hector grins, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Good. I like a little bit of chaos."

He pulls you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips as he begins to lead you in a slow, sultry dance. His breath is hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

True to your word, you begin to make your moves. Every now and then, you'll brush against his body in a way that's just a little bit more than innocent. You'll lean in to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing against his jawline. You'll let your fingertips trail lightly down his chest, feeling the muscles tense under your touch.

Hector is struggling to maintain his composure. Every touch, every move you make is driving him crazier than the last. He tries to focus on breathing, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. The desire to take control of the situation is growing stronger, but he's determined not to let you win so easily.

Hector is clearly not one to be outdone. As the dance continues, his own touches become more intentional and deliberate. His hands slide from your hips to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. His fingers dance along the edge of your clothing, occasionally skimming across bare skin. He bends his head, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers words that are more than a little provocative.

Each touch from him only fans the flames of desire further. You can feel the heat emanating from his body as his movements become more assertive. He pulls you against him tightly, his body pressing against yours in a way that makes it difficult to think straight. His lips brush against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that make your knees weak.

Seeing that Hector is starting to gain the upper hand, you silently acknowledge that it's time to up the ante. As you continue to dance, you decide to pull out your "ace in the sleeve". You angle your body so that your back is against his chest, and then you roll your hips against him in a slow, seductive movement.

Hector lets out a sharp intake of breath as your body grinds against his, the action taking him by surprise. His hands on your hips suddenly grip tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggles to maintain his composure. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as his breathing quickens, an obvious sign that he's losing the game.

Emboldened by his reaction, you continue to move against him, enjoying the effect you're having on him. You let your head fall back, exposing your neck to his gaze, and you know he's completely lost. He's too wrapped up in the sensations you're creating to resist anymore.

Hector loses all self-control, the desire to have you all to himself taking over. He snatches your hand and pulls you away from the dance floor, leading you through the crowd and towards a secluded area.

Hector drags you into a private bathroom, the sound of the music muted as soon as the door closes behind you. He pins you against the wall, his body pressing against yours in a way that's both possessive and desperate.

He doesn't say a word, instead his mouth crashing down on yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. His hands begin to roam, exploring every inch of your body with an intensity that's almost primal.

Your mind is spinning, overwhelmed by the sudden whirlwind of sensation. Hector's kisses are greedy and relentless, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to get closer, to claim every inch of you.

He lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you across the room. He deposits you on the edge of the sink, his body wedged in between your thighs. His kisses trail down your neck, his teeth nipping and biting at your skin as he presses himself even closer.

Hector's hands move impatient to remove any barriers between you. He pulls the dress over your head, his eyes drinking in the sight of you in only a bra.

He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing over the skin of your chest, his gaze dark with desire. "Eres aún más hermosa de lo que imaginé." ("You're even more beautiful than I imagined.")

Your hands are just as eager, tugging off his shirt and exploring the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Your fingers trail along the ridges of his muscles, relishing the feel of his skin against yours.

He growls lowly, the sensation of your touch driving him even wilder. He pulls you back against him, his mouth finding your neck once more. His hands move to your back, deftly unclasping your bra.

The garment falls away, and his lips move lower, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of your chest. He worships your body with his mouth, his hands roaming every inch of you as he feasts on your skin.

Hector's lips and hands continue to roam over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His kisses become more demanding as he continues to taste your skin, his fingertips tracing light, teasing patterns on your flesh. He whispers your name, his voice deep and rough with desire.

"Me estás volviendo loco," ("You're driving me crazy,") he says, his lips against your ear. "I want you so badly, I can hardly stand it."

Your hands tangle in his hair, holding on as he worships your body with his mouth. You can feel the heat of his skin against yours, the muscles of his chest rippling under your touch. You arch against him, wanting more, needing more.

His hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the sink. His mouth moves down the center of your chest, his tongue trailing a path of kisses down to the hollow of your stomach. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, his voice a growl.

"Tell me you want me," he says, his fingers digging into your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat, the raw hunger in his eyes setting your body aflame. You pull him back up to your face, your hands framing his face.

"I want you," you murmur, your voice low and sultry. "I want you so badly, it's almost painful."

Hector growls again, the sound primal and feral. He captures your lips in a savage kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he presses himself flush against you. You can feel the proof of his desire, hard and demanding, against your hip.

Growling against your lips, he devours you in a hungry kiss, his tongue tangling with yours. His grip on you tightens, as if he's scared to let you go. His hips buck involuntarily, pressing his erection against your hip with an insistent need. Fuck...

Your mind is a haze of lust and need, your body burning for his touch. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, trying to get as much contact as possible. Your hands roam over his back, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving marks that will leave a delicious reminder tomorrow.

His body tenses, a moan escaping his throat as he starts rocking his hips, rubbing his erection against your heat. Fuck... He grunts, his hands groping at your body in desperate need.

The feeling of you tightening around him brings Hector to the edge. He groans as he reaches his release, letting out a deep, visceral sound as he pushes himself deeper into you. His muscles tense and his head falls forward, resting against your shoulder as he catches his breath.

You hold onto him, your body continuing to feel the aftershocks of your own release. Hector's weight presses you against the sink, his body still trembling with the aftermath of pleasure.

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a vulnerability there that you've never seen before, a raw honesty that makes your heart flutter.

He strokes your cheek, tracing his thumb over your lips. "You're amazing," he whispers, his voice soft and sincere. "I've never felt anything like that before."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. You reach up and touch his face, wanting to return the tender gesture. "Neither have I," you murmur, your voice filled with a mix of wonder and awe.

Hector leans in and kisses you again, this time it's gentle and slow. It's a kiss that's laced with affection and tenderness, a stark contrast to the frenzied passion of moments ago.

He lifts you from the edge of the sink, setting you gently on the ground. He gazes at you, his eyes roaming over your still-trembling body. "We should probably fix ourselves before someone comes looking for us," he says with a soft chuckle.

You nod, knowing that he's right. You quickly pick up your discarded clothes and begin to get dressed, your movements a bit shaky from the intensity of the moment. Hector helps you, gently pulling your arms into the sleeves and zipping your dress.

Once you're both presentable, Hector glances at the mirror and runs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down. He looks at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, we didn't get to finish our dance."

You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're right, we didn't. Is that your way of asking me for a second dance?"

Hector grins, the cocky smirk returning to his face. "What if it is? Are you going to turn me down?"

You shake your head, a hint of regret in your expression. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid I can't. My brother will start to get suspicious if we disappear for too long."

Hector's expression falls a bit, disappointment evident in his eyes. "Ah, right. Your brother." He sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "I guess we'll have to save the second dance for another night then."

You give him a soft smile, trying to reassure him. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll find another opportunity. Plus, it gives us something to look forward to, right?"

Hector grins again, the disappointment replaced with a hint of excitement. "You're right. Something to look forward to." He reaches out and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

You feel a flutter in your chest at the gentle gesture. "Just so you know, I expect some fancy footwork next time," you tease, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Hector chuckles, that cocky smirk returning to his face. "My footwork is always fancy, darling. You're the one who's going to have a hard time keeping up with me."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Is that a challenge? Because I might surprise you with my own dancing skills."

Hector laughs, pulling you closer to him. "It's a promise. Next time, we'll dance until the sun comes up."

He gazes at you for a moment, seeming to memorize every detail of your face. Then, he reluctantly releases you. "We should really go back now before your brother starts questioning our absence."

Hector and you make one last check in the mirror, ensuring that you're both presentable. Then, he opens the door and leads you back into the ballroom, where the music and laughter of the other guests envelop you once more.

The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and chatting with friends. However, throughout the evening, you can't help but feel the heat of Hector's gaze on you, and the promise of a second dance hanging in the air between you.

#hector fort #hector fort x reader #hector fort x you #fc barcelona x reader #fcb x reader #marc guiu #marc guiu x reader #pablo gavi x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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antigonick · 3 months ago

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I love when format fits story and I love how narratively resonant HtN's incredible narration devices are—the second person, first appearing to be an imperative anchor to the world while Harrow is unmoored, a forceful narrator that becomes a necessity voice-wise to "guide" Harrow through her own narrative arc—often hinted and suddenly revealed to be Gideon; and when Gideon swings back to the first person, her chapters become love letters to Harrow—confessions of care, protection, anger, heat and longing; and all of this just serves to highlight and embody not only the distance that separates them and Harrow's absence, but the motif of extreme asceticism and self-flagellation FOR the sake of her love (for Gideon, not for the Body—the Body is erotic projection, Gideon is real love) that Harrow has already put in place from the start of GtN. Keep Gideon on the sidelines to protect her: don't communicate, don't unveil yourself. Keep Gideon in a niche in your own brain and begin "the work": don't communicate, and literally (echoing Gideon's narration) write yourself letters you're disciplined enough to not ever open. Hear Gideon is in your body—leave your body for her, and don't join her there lest the symbiosis devours you both. Keep your eyes averted—don't even touch the words of love. The fear of realness, of touch, of grasping the beloved at last and make it real in a world where death is more familiar than life is much more intense than the fear of obliteration as sacrifice for the other. "You were so afraid someone might touch you", from a girl who unspools her bones from her own body without blinking, lampshades all of Harrow's efforts to never reach for or be reached by Gideon while standing tall as a barrier to Gideon's death (potentially because she thinks of herself as an embodiment of death, too). After all, her only clear, expressive moment of joyful, unashamed connection with Gideon is that scene in Canaan House's atrium: "Did you behold me, Griddle?", as she has just become the literal and successful wall protecting Gideon from imminent death, and the literal death of Cytherea's construct: fulfilling what she is unafraid to be (untouched but connecting), and incidentally subverting and conflating the roles of necromancer to her cavalier—putting herself at risk in the middle of battle, ensuring her cavalier's survival, deconstructing their assigned roles to attain perfect resonance.

(And yeah there's probably a "little death" joke in there we could have made but FOCUS Gideon)

#tlt meta #griddlehark #the locked tomb #I RAMBLE!! I am INTERESTED!! its a smart book!!#harrow the ninth #gideon the ninth

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wqnwoos · 1 year ago

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joshua hong breaks your heart three and a half times before you can even reach nineteen, and yet you can’t stop loving him with the pieces that remain.

i. the first time ; when you meet

the story of you and joshua starts at the beginning, which sounds pretty redundant, but it’s the beginning in more may than one. the beginning of friendship — the beginning of freshman year — the beginning of something bigger than two fourteen year olds can imagine.

it starts, as you say, at the onset of freshman year. you’re nervous — extra nervous because these kids went to the same middle school, and you’re the stranger, the outsider, the transfer student who nobody knows yet. it’s obvious in the way they talk to each other; gossipping about unfamiliar names, inside jokes only they understand.

and so homeroom begins with ice breakers, and it turns out that you and someone named joshua hong have the same favourite colour and you both like horror movies, and that’s enough for you to think to yourself, that one. i want to be friends with that one.

for a moment, it seems like that sentiment is mirrored. when lunch is called, and you’re stuck in the corner of the canteen, eating lunch alone, joshua hong appears to your side, holding his tray. he smiles at you first, and when he speaks, he speaks softly; you like him instantly, especially when he gets your name right first try, and talks to you about the horror movies you like.

unfortunately, your conversation lasts about five minutes; it’s interrupted by joshua’s actual friends, waving from another table, yelling for him to come join their arm wrestling competition, and someone wants his chocolate milk, and, and, and — because of course, joshua is popular.

he’s also incredibly polite, for a fourteen year old boy, looking between you and his table, eyes torn, mouth twisting. but you make the decision for him; you stuff the last of your food in your mouth — it tastes like cardboard — and you gesture for him to leave, saying, through a dry mouthful, “i’m done anyway, go ahead!”

he leaves then, sending an apologetic smile you pretend not to see. you won’t be pitied, not even by popular guys with nice smiles. but when you walk out the cafeteria, as alone as you were when you walked into it, your silly, young little heart does break a little.

and then it’s glued back together by clumsy fingers the next day. joshua’s in the cafeteria before you, and this time, he waves you over to his table, patting the seat next to him. he introduces you to his friends, who are nice and sweet and funny, and you do like them, you just like joshua that extra little bit more.

ii. the second time ; when you fall, suddenly, completely, absolutely.

by the time junior year rolls around, you and joshua are joined at the hip.

you do everything together. you’re at his house more than your own; his mom calls you the second child she never had; your mom calls him by his nickname; you know his deepest darkest secret, and he knows yours; he’s your favourite person in the world, and as teenagers are apt to do, you’d never willingly tell him such a thing.

“you’re disgusting,” you tell him, whenever he belches, unashamed, on your couch after a horror movie marathon. “you’re the worst!” when he tickles you within an inch of your life, rolling onto the floor with you in a mad tangle of limbs and giggling. “i hate you,” with a smile on your face, when he teases you about a crush or pinches your nose a little too hard.

“you love me,” is always his response — easy, carefree, and the l-word rolls off his tongue so confidently, sometimes you wonder how he does it. but you do love him. as a friend, of course, and nothing more, despite what other people say. at school, people think you’re together — people pull you aside in the locker room, giggling like they’re in on your secret (“so, you like like him, right?”) and nobody believes you guys when you deny it.

“it’s not like that,” you find yourself saying over and over, until it feels like the words are tattooed on your tongue. “he’s just josh, you know?” and he is. he’s just your joshua. nothing more, nothing less, he’s just your person — your best friend.

you manage to convince yourself as well, with those repetitive words, until one day, you find out you can’t.

it’s a sunday, and so of course, he’s singing sunday morning as the two of you stroll down to the park, hands stuffed in your respective pockets. it’s late september, but the dregs of summer are lingering longer this year, and the two of you are drinking them up before autumn rolls around, and strips the greenery bare.

“your obsession with that song needs to be studied,” you say, and it comes easily because you haven’t realised yet.

“your brain needs to be studied,” is his quick retort, as you guys make it to your usual spot.

it’s nothing special, this spot — to an outsider, at least. it’s a crumbling wall to the side of the park, that overlooks a pond (an ugly, swampy looking pond, but a pond nonetheless).

to you and joshua, the deteriorating wall is your Place, with a capital p, because that’s how important it’s become to the two of you. it’s simply. a little bit ugly, but who cares, when you have your whole life stretching in front of you, a wall to sit on, and a best friend to argue over the red gummies with?

“there are five red gummies,” he pronounces, peering inside the pack. “i call dibs on the third!”

“what?” your voice raises automatically. “absolutely not. you had the third one last time.”

“last time there were six!”

“that’s so not fair!” you poke his rib, scowling. “we’ll split it. for justice.”

joshua sighs, long and reluctant, but nods, setting the packet between you — but moments later, when you’ve spiralled down a tangent of cursing out your physics teacher, he swipes down on the third, stuffing it in his mouth with a triumphant, guiltless grin before you can even say stop.

“you’re evil,” you say, slow and shocked, narrowing your eyes at him. “you’re actually fucking evil!”

“sorry,” he says, without the slightest hint of remorse.

“i hate you.” and again, you’re smiling — and so is he, throwing his head back to laugh (because the thought of you hating him is so ridiculous that he has to laugh), and his darn eyes catch the afternoon sunlight at just the right angle, twin pools of honey brown, and you’re drowning in them; and his laughter sounds like music, and his hair’s blowing back in the breeze, and the lines of his face are lighting up golden; and oh, fuck, you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

“you love me,” he says, normally, casually, his ordinary response, but it feels like he’s plucked the sentence straight out your mind, where it had been nothing more than a half-formed sentiment you’d pushed into the corner.

cheeseballs, you think to yourself, breathless, stomach sinking, eyes wide. i think he’s right.

i think i love him, your fifteen year old self thinks, and then your fifteen year old self’s heart breaks.

it’s more painful than the first time. much more.

iii. the third time ; when he leaves (because you push him out the door)

the third time is not like the others. you can’t pinpoint a specific moment; it happens gradually. less of a shattering — more of a slow crushing, like joshua is pressing down on the centre of your chest, slow, heavy, and completely unaware of how blood is spurting from the cracks of your heart.

because he doesn’t know — of course he doesn’t know. and he can’t know now, now that the two of you, as a unit, have become past tense.

you can barely call himself your friend anymore, and it’s entirely your fault.

not even a month after that fateful day in junior year, joshua had gotten himself a girlfriend. and she wasn’t mean and you couldn’t hate her even if you wanted to, she was the sweetest person alive, and had no problem with you; but still, that step did mean other things, like backing off joshua a little. there was another priority in his life now.

they only lasted three months, but it felt significant. it felt like a sign — he’s not yours, he can never be yours, and so even after emily benson and joshua broke up, you kept your distance. then he joined the football team, with seungcheol and mingyu and those guys, and you joined the photography club with wonwoo and seokmin and those guys, and there was suddenly this divide. a line drawn; you were the artist.

because joshua did try, and he definitely tried more than you. he’d invite you over to his house for movie marathons, and you’d decline. he’d wave at you from across the football pitch, and you’d pretend not to see.

you only see his mom in the supermarket now. she still hugs you, calls you her other child. you don’t know what to say to her.

it is, technically, your own fault. self-preservation instincts; because being around joshua hurt like a bitch after that sunday. there was an ache in your heart you’d somehow not noticed for two years, but now that you’d noticed it once, it was there always, a permanent throbbing pain in your chest.

you think of it as losing your heart; you’d given it to joshua without even realising, and he hasn’t realised either. and so the hot, slippery organ is left in his hands, and you don’t know how to get it back.

senior year comes, and it’s clear to everyone that there is no longer a you and joshua. sometimes you get questions about it; “did you guys fight?”, “what even happened? was it emily?”, “did he cheat on you?”, and you answer them all wearily with a smiling front.

just drifted apart, i guess, you always say, paired with a nonchalant shrug, like it doesn’t kill you a little every time you see him.

you wonder what he says, when they ask him. if they even ask him at all.

iii.v half broken, half mended

joshua shows up at your house.

it’s the night before graduation, and if it were a movie, it would be raining when he knocks on your door — but it’s still warm, there’s still faint sunlight behind him, and he’s panting slightly on your doorstep, eyes wide with something you don’t have the time to read before he’s rushing out words, garbled with speed.

you’ve just woken from a nap, and you don’t understand a word he’s saying; you hear a whole lot of “we” and “friends” and before he can get any further, you raise a hand to stop him.

“what — what are you talking about, shua?” you question genuinely, rubbing your sleepy eyes as though this is some sort of twisted dream.

joshua lets out a breath on your doorstep; he looks harried, panicked, like if he doesn’t say everything he needs to, he’s going to explode. but he holds back, inhaling, exhaling, suddenly short of breath at the sight of you, up close after what feels like forever.

“where did you go?” he says finally, and you can hear fifteen year old shua in there, a crack in his voice, emotion leaking into it.

you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, and you don’t have an answer for him. “i didn’t go anywhere,” you reply, voice small. you don’t look at him, because both of you know it’s a lie.

“you did,” he repeats needlessly. “it felt like you left me.”

you don’t have anything to say, and so you stay silent. there are birds chirping, you realise absently, somewhere behind him.

“was there a reason?” his words are growing quicker now, spilling out of him like they’re overflowing; and maybe they are, maybe he’s kept them locked up just as long as you have. “there must have been a reason — you need to tell me, i deserve to know. don’t i?”

his voice is tinged with a sort of raw desperation that pulls at your heart, because no matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise, he’s still your shua, he’s still your person, and you can never hate him.

he deserves to know, and you’re too cowardly to tell him.

joshua waits. (he’s always been the more patient out of you two.) “you won’t tell me,” he realises finally, stepping back just once. “god. fuck. i don’t even know why i came.”

he turns, and you blurt three words that halt him in his tracks. you see the way he freezes on the spot, and so you repeat them again, just so he can be sure.

“i love you,” you say, softly, but he hears you. he hears you and turns around, and his pretty doe eyes are round with confusion.

you don’t realise you’re crying until he wipes away the few that have spilled oit the corners of your eyes; he does it delicately, with hands that tremble a little. they’re unfamiliar in their familiarity, those hands, and the feel of them makes you close your eyes.

both of you are breathing shakily. like you’re on the cusp of something new; something bigger.

“how long?” he asks quietly, hands trailing down to cup your cheeks.

you don’t open your eyes when you speak your next words, pouring from your mouth into the space between you. “since we were fifteen.”

joshua’s quiet for a moment, and when you open your eyes, there’s a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, and the ghost of tears filling his eyes. “haha,” he whispers, leaning closer, “i win.” his lips brush against yours, so light and feathery it could barely be called a kiss.

he pulls back, forehead against yours, and smiles, properly this time. “since fourteen,” he says, and it feels like your heart is mended and broken at the same time.

an / typed this out in an hour of feverish inspiration. idk. 💪

taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya

#joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua comfort #joshua fic #joshua fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #joshua imagines #joshua headcanons #joshua x you

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