#the people meet face to face dance cheek to cheek one to one man to man dance toe to toe dont move too slow cause the man from mars is

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part II)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 8.2 K

Warnings: Aegon takes minors to a brothel (but nothing sexual happens), characters get aged up, male masturbation, mutual pining, smut

AN: I am so blown away by the love you all showed for the first chapter, thank you all so much! Hope you enjoy xx

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

~~

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. 

Aemond had been twirling her around the room practically the entire night. She knew he didn’t particularly enjoy dancing, but when she had asked him, he loathed to deny her. 

“Are you having a good name day?” 

“It’s my best one yet.” He smiled. He had woken that morning to her barging into his chambers, demanding her gift be the first one he received that day. Nothing could ruin such an incredible start to the day. 

He raised her hand over their heads and twirled her under his arm again, his own grin beaming at the sound of her delighted laughter. 

She tilted her head back as she spun and Aemond was struck by how happy she looked. She was happy with him, she was carefree with him. 

Despite how his feet began to hurt, or that he knew many pairs of eyes were staring at him, the desire to let go and sit back down was nowhere to be found. He wanted to stay with her. He wanted to continue to make her smile all night long

As she twirled again, her eyes found the head table, smiling to Helaena who was watching the dancers wistfully while her betrothed sat next to her downing another cup of wine. 

She flinched suddenly as she met the hard stare of the Hand of the King. Otto Hightower’s stare was enough to make her feel as though she was burning under such a disdainful look. 

Her shoulders tensed slightly before she found herself being spun again, back into Aemond’s arms. His smile faltered when he noticed her own smile dimmed. 

“Are you alright?”

She forced a mask upon her face, not quite understanding the contempt coming her way from his grandsire, and brought a smile back to her face. 

“I’m fine, just getting a little tired.” 

“Come on, we’ll take a break.” He took her hand in his and guided her back to the table.

Her father smiled at the two of them as they approached. 

“You two look like you’ve been having fun.” 

“We are.” She smiled, taking her seat next to him. Aemond moved to take the empty seat next to her when his mother called out to him. She beckoned him forward with a pointed look and he sighed, promising to find her later as he left her side to make his way back to the head table.

She watched him go with sorrowful eyes, her gaze moving over to Otto and suppressing a shiver at the cold look she received. 

She seemed to shrink in her seat, catching her father’s attention. He followed her gaze, his face hardening, his posture becoming rigid as he noticed the cold glare the Hand of the King was sending his daughter. 

He had never liked Hightower, he didn’t trust the man. He somehow always seemed to take control of the council meetings, proclaiming he knew what the King’s best interests were. He was a snake of a man and he would not let him drag his daughter into his games. 

He placed his arm over her shoulder, portraying a united front, a warning to anyone that would seek to bring her harm that he would deal with them swiftly. He may be the Lord of a peaceful house but that did not mean he did not know how to fight or that he wouldn’t commit whatever violence was needed to protect his family.

She stayed by her father’s side for the rest of the night, sharing looks of mourning with Aemond as he was sequestered to his mother’s side, unable to escape the politicking unfolding at the head table of Royals. 

As the celebration was winding down, most taking their leave for the night, she bid her father goodnight and sulked out of the large hall. 

She knew whatever reservations Aemond’s grandsire had of her would keep him from her, that there was no use in hoping for another moment with him. 

She shouldn’t have been so upset, she had practically the entire day with him and all her previous days, but that somehow didn’t stop the twisting of her insides as the thought of his own family disliking her, of there being some kind of plot to keep her away from him. 

The sound of her name being called made her raise her head, a smile growing instantly at the sight of Aemond waving her over. 

“Where are you going?”

“I was headed to my chambers. I thought the celebration was over.”

Aemond took her hand and pulled her along with him.  “Not yet.”

She smiled along with him, happily following him. As he guided her out of the Keep, her smile began to falter slightly in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“Aegon said he had a surprise.”

An uneasy feeling began to fester within her. She didn’t particularly like any time she had spent with his older brother. She didn’t trust a single thing about him. Thoughts of the pink dread came to mind and she quickly held back the bitterness that grew. She didn’t want to doubt Aemond, but she had little hope this surprise would be a showing of brotherly love. 

As the two of them snuck passed the gates, a hooded figure waited for them. 

Aegon’s smirk dropped the moment he spotted the two of them hand in hand. 

“What the bloody hell is she doing here?”

“Aegon.” Aemond admonished. 

“I didn’t invite her, I invited you.”

“She’s my friend. She has every right to join us.”

The disdain on his face faltered slightly and soon morphed into a devious smirk, a laugh leaving his curled lips, one that made her stiffen.

“I do hope you enjoy the surprise, My Lady.” He drawled, the sickly sweet tone of his voice making her want to squirm and head back to the safety of her chambers. 

But Aemond’s hand in hers kept her in place, her stride matching his as they followed Aegon. 

The further they ventured from the familiarity of the Red Keep, the tighter Aemond’s grip on her hand became, his suspicions rising as they continued their trek deeper into the streets of Flea Bottom. 

He pulled her into his side as they passed a tavern, the rowdy sounds inside and the groups of drunken men they passed making his body stiffen. 

“Aegon, what are we doing down here?” He called to his older brother. 

No response was given and Aemond grit his teeth in annoyance. He should’ve known better than to trust his brother. 

They came to a nondescript door and Aegon turned to face them, that smug smirk still on his face that made her hand twitch, longing to smack it right off his face. 

“Well, brother, you’re almost a man grown. I think it’s time you get it wet.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, confusion twisting his features as a pit of dread began to grow within him. Aegon opened the door and motioned them inside. 

When the two of them stood still in their spot, Aegon rolled his eyes and gripped onto the front of Aemond’s shirt, yanking him forward, his hand still clasped tightly in hers pulling her along with him, the two of them stumbling through the door ungracefully. 

The scantily clad women that filled the room made Aemond’s lone eye widen. He turned to his brother, his face red with both shame and anger. 

“Aegon, why are we here?”

“Don’t be so uptight, Aemond.” His brother waved him off, brushing past them to be welcomed into the arms of a whore he frequented. 

He was quickly guided off to a room, leaving the two of them to remain standing at the door stiffly, their shocked eyes taking in the room before them.

A group of women soon surrounded them, pulling Aemond away from her. 

He tensed as hands ran down his arms and he shook them off, his head craning to catch a glimpse of his friend. He called out her name, but if she gave any response it was drowned out by the tittering laughter of the women in front of him.

“Is she your betrothed?”

“We can help you, teach you how to please her.”

“We’ll make you a God, My Prince.”

Aemond’s face twisted in disgust at the filth they began to spout, shrugging off their wandering hands, flinching as a hand landed on his thigh, slowly beginning to creep upwards.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, his heart beginning to race as a dreadful feeling overcame him. 

He remembered it well, what it was like to not be in control. He remembered what happened the last time he had felt this helpless, wanting to scream but knowing no one was listening, no one caring about his discomfort. His scar flared with pain at the memory and he winced, pushing the woman who was trying to crawl into his lap away from him.

He called out her name again, panic seeping through his tone. 

He stumbled over his own feet in his haste to escape the gaggle of whores that tried to tempt him. He pushed them out of his way, one goal in his mind, one face he desperately needed to see. 

Across the room, he spotted her, his chest tightening as he saw the discomfort on her face as many pairs of hands tangled through her hair and pulled at her dress. 

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

“Just imagine when your tits come in, you’ll put all of us out of work. The men will be lining up to take a turn with you.”

“Don’t worry, Honey. We can prepare you so it won’t hurt too much when your old husband beds you.”

The whores’ words made her stomach clench and she squirmed under their hands that attempted to get her out of her clothes. 

The feeling of lips caressing her neck made her flinch, a small squeak of surprise escaping her before she could even fully realize what was happening. 

“Get off her.” A stern voice spoke.

She let out a stunted breath as she realized it was Aemond. She reached out and within a second, he hauled her up and wrapped her under his arm as he pushed their way out of the brothel. 

A ragged breath left him as the stench of perfume finally lifted, the debauched sounds of the pleasure house muffled and distant as the door closed behind them. He looked down at the girl under his arm and a bolt of worry shot through him at the sight of her blank stare.

A low hum rang in her ears, her body trembling slightly as it tried to make sense of what had just happened, of what could have happened. 

“Hey, look at me, please.” His pleading voice came through and she slowly raised her head, her gaze meeting his worried eye. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was planning. I never should have trusted him.” He rambled, his own voice wavering slightly, his trembling hands moving to cup her cheeks. “I swear to you, I never would have come if I had known.”

“It’s ok.” She breathed out quietly. 

He sighed, the fear on her face still evident. 

“Are you alright?”

She nodded wordlessly and he winced, the gesture so unconvincing he quickly wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“I’ll take you back to the Keep.” 

She looked down the darkened alley fearfully, the thought of making her way through the streets of Flea Bottom so late had dread settling in her stomach. 

“It’s ok.” Aemond assured her, taking her hand in his, noting the unease in her eyes. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” 

They began to walk, the silence between them stifling, something so unfamiliar to the inseparable pair. 

“I’m sorry.” She began quietly. “You don’t need to- you can stay if you wish. I don’t want to ruin your night.” 

Aemond stopped in his tracks, his lone eye wide with horror as he looked at her in complete shock.

“I don’t- no! I didn’t want- this wasn’t-” He was at a loss for words. He blew out a long breath, cursing Aegon profusely in his head. “I don’t want to… do what Aegon does.” He explained vaguely, unable to bring himself to speak of his brother’s depravity in front of her. 

The insinuation of him acting like Aegon, of sullying himself with the same debauchery that brought his family shame made his stomach twist. He never wanted her to see him like that, he never wanted her to think he would ever act like his brother.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair. “Fucking twat.” He mumbled under his breath. He wanted to throttle Aegon 

A small giggle met his ears and he looked at her, slightly bewildered by the small upturning of her lips he saw, so unlike the fear he had seen etched in her eyes just seconds before. 

“I’ve never heard you swear.”

He let out a small noise of surprise, unsure if she was truly smiling or if it was a ruse to placate him.

“So unbecoming of a Prince.” She jested and he let himself laugh, her sarcasm, her humor so like the girl he knew that it was enough to ease his worry. 

He liked his arm through hers, holding her closely to his side as they began to walk again. 

“Did this ruin your name day?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

He looked over at her thoughtfully. His day began with her, her excited smile beaming as she demanded he open her present, her at his side loyally all day. No one had ever been so attentive to him, not even on past name days. 

“No.” He answered honestly. Nothing could ruin the content she gave him, the feeling of being wanted and needed that surrounded him when she was around was stronger than any blow of shame Aegon could deliver.

Neither of them spoke of that night, the both of them too embarrassed by what they had seen and heard to say anything about it. 

Though the seeds of lust were planted. 

As the years passed and they grew older, their childhood innocence dissipating into adult desires and longing, it became harder to deny what was between them. The looks that passed between them were no longer the shared smiles of childhood friends, they were the looks of longing that stirred the shared hunger that grew steadily with each passing day.

After that night, she loathed to think of her friend, her Aemond, venturing back there with Aegon, indulging those whores, laying with them, letting them touch him, his own hands greedily touching every inch of their bodies. The thought of him laying with another was like a lance to the heart. 

The same dread plagued Aemond. 

He made himself sick thinking of his friend, the girl he always simply considered to be his, indulging one of the many suitors that ogled her.

Aemond thought of what those whores had told her, that she would have to lay with a husband leagues older than her and endure the lackluster and, most likely violent, attempts to produce an heir. 

The thought had his insides twisting. The thought of any man with their hands on her sent fury racing through him. 

As they grew, he couldn’t help but find his thoughts of her drifting to ones that would be considered less than innocent, not thoughts one should be having of a dear friend. 

He couldn’t help but admire her curves, the dip of her cleavage she had no trouble showing in the low cut gowns she wore around the Keep. It drove him crazy. 

It was becoming more and more common that he would wake, his thoughts racing of images of her lingering from his dreams. He would roll over, imagining she was laying next to him in his bed, tangled within his sheets, her sweet smile his first sight of the day. 

He had no time to feel guilty as his hand ventured below his sheets, as he found his hard length that was more often than not standing at attention to the thought of her. 

He would let his eye close, imagining her hand taking his place, of her sweet mouth taking him in, of the praises she would give him as he took her over and over, the sound of her delectable moans and pleas for him. 

His mouth would part with panting breaths as he thought of the pleasure he could give her, of the pleasure he longed to give her and the pleasure she would bestow upon him. 

His hand would speed as he neared his end, his body writhing among his silken sheets, his head fallen back against his pillow as he pictured her face, what it would look like as he brought her to climax.

The thought, as always, was his undoing. 

His lips parted with a long groan, the raspy call of her name becoming familiar to the walls around him. He panted as he expelled the last spurts of spend on his stomach, his limbs feeling weak as he let his fantasy dissipate. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could continue without having her in his arms. He didn’t know how he could endure meeting her gaze with such filthy thoughts of her in his mind. 

Later that day, as he caught her eye as she sat with the ladies of the court, he felt his face flush, the images of her he conjured in the privacy of his chambers rushing back to him. 

The warm smile and small wave she sent him only incensed him further, leaving him to contemplate for a few long moments whether he should neglect his training with Ser Criston to return to his chambers and deal with the heat she had unknowingly spread throughout his body that was undoubtedly weak for her. 

He was doomed to her.

The longer he repressed his growing feelings for his best friend, the more he couldn’t get her off his mind. 

He woke early one morning to avoid passing her by, knowing with one mere look at her he would be a distracted, bumbling mess for the rest of the day. He was determined to get through at least one training session without his thoughts drifting to her. 

He had been successful for a short time, managing to best Ser Criston time and time again, his focus purely on the weapon he wielded with precision. 

Until he heard that familiar laugh, a sound so purely wonderful, it almost knocked him off his feet. 

His gaze wandered around the training yard before they found her, as he always would, her arm linked through Helaena’s their smiles wide as they watched the training commence.

As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned her head, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, the sight blindingly beautiful. He sent her a wave, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t as severe as it felt. 

The sound of a throat clearing beside him broke him out of his daze and he turned sharply to meet the knowing smirk of Ser Criston.

“Shall we continue or are you done for the day?”

The knight’s tone implied he knew exactly what thoughts had been running through the Prince’s mind the moment he saw his dear friend. Anyone with eyes and half a working brain could see the affection the Prince and the Ixtal girl held for each other. 

Aemond grit his teeth, sending a glare the knight’s way as he spun his sword effortlessly, a flagrant display of his prowess with his beloved blade. 

“I am more than ready to continue, but if you require a break I will gladly find another opponent to knock into the dirt.” 

Criston snorted and raised his sword, giving the young Prince he had valiantly trained a pointed look. 

With one last gaze up to the woman on the balcony, the sly wink she sent him giving him all the drive needed, he raised his sword and struck a deadly swing towards his mentor who scrambled to block it. 

His heart raced with adrenaline. The wink she had sent him igniting the fire in his blood, only incenting him to display his power to her, determined to win, determined to show her his strength. 

He wasn’t a boastful man, he left those frivolities to his older brother, but when it came to her he suddenly didn’t recognize the feelings within him, the desires that had taken root that seemed to unravel him to his most basic senses. 

Up on the balcony she repressed a shiver as she watched Aemond fight with an ease that made her body heat and caused her mind to conjure things her Septa would’ve slapped her for ever thinking as an unmarried woman.

“He’s very good.” Helaena commented, not noticing the desire now lingering in her friend’s eyes. 

“Yes, he is.” She murmured, attempting to shake herself from thoughts of him handling her in the delicate yet deliberate way he did his sword.  

Later that night, as she and her father joined the Targaryen family for dinner, she couldn’t get her mind off of what she had seen in the training yard. She couldn’t help the nervous flutters that erupted within her as she took her seat in between Helaena and Aemond.

It was her usual seat, she had spent too many dinners to count by his side, but for reasons she couldn’t quite understand - or refused to - she suddenly felt bashful in her friend’s presence. 

The smile he sent her in greeting made her stomach flip.  

She could barely concentrate on anything besides his presence beside her. She was sure she was about to crumble into a puddle as his fingers brushed against hers as he passed her the jug of wine. 

She took greedy swallows of the drink, hoping it would dull her sense enough to withstand the looks he sent her every now and again, his smile warm, his gentle affection subtle but enough to undo her completely. 

As Helaena engaged her in conversation, telling her one of the many stories of her beloved twins, she let her thoughts of Aemond dissipate, smiling softly to her dear friend who glowed with her love of her children. 

She listened intently, allowing her nerves to retreat to the shadows of her mind. 

As conversations around the table continued, she let her eyes wander curiously. She turned her head, catching Aemond’s gaze already on hers. He straightened and abruptly tore his eye back to the plate in front of him, though the blush that grew on his cheeks was undeniable. 

A shock of excitement rushed through her at his reaction, suddenly realizing she wasn’t as hopeless as she had thought. She thought back to all the times she had caught Aemond looking at her, all the times he sought her out before anyone else, all the times he had abandoned whatever it was he was doing just to see her and spend a mere moment together. 

She suddenly wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to her. 

She wondered if her dear friend was caught in the same haze of longing she found herself drowning in. 

~~

The slamming of the door made her flinch, the book she was reading slipping from her hands. She sat up straighter when she noticed Aemond standing rigid, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tried to rein in his anger.

“What happened?”

“My fucking grandsire.” He seethed. 

She remained seated and silent, allowing Aemond to vent out his anger. 

“They want to betrothe me to some Baratheon girl.” He explained as he began to pace erratically. “They’re bringing her to court for the Summer Feast. They expect me to do my duty with that plain-” He stopped himself abruptly before any insults could pass his lips. 

She frowned, setting her book aside. 

“Tell them you don’t wish to marry her.”

Aemond hummed, the sound more bitter than she had ever heard it. “My grandsire isn’t as agreeable as your father.” 

He knew the Lord of Ixtal had vetoed a number of requests for his daughter’s hand at her request. He didn’t want his daughter shackled to a man she did not desire. 

He wished his family was as caring to his needs as hers was. 

“Well, I guess you need to find the love of your life before the Baratheon girl arrives.”

Aemond looked over at her plainly, clearly not in the joking mood. 

“This is not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the issue is. Tell your family this isn’t what you want.”

“They don’t care about what any of us want. If they did, Helaena wouldn’t be forced at Aegon’s side.” 

She frowned at the mention of her dear friend and what she had to endure with her drunken leech of a husband. 

“I’m running out of time.” Aemond sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been able to keep them at bay the past few years, but they’re becoming more incessant, I can’t stall any longer.”

The thought of being forced to marry some girl he didn’t know, a girl who would never compare to the woman in front of him, the woman he longed for, desired before he even knew what it meant to desire a woman, left him feeling hollow. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could solve this for you, but I don’t think your mother would take too kindly to my meddling.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh at the thought. He looked at his friend curiously, noting how cavalier she found the idea of marriage.

“Isn’t your father putting pressure on you to marry?”

“Not exactly. He’s hinting at the time coming for me to go back home, but no plans have been made just yet.”

Her words made his stomach twist. The thought of her leaving King’s Landing, of not seeing her everyday, was unfathomable. 

“They don’t have a courtship lined up for you?”

“No. Who I marry is my decision.”

“Is it that easy?”

She breathed out a small laugh at his disbelieving tone.

“Ixtal isn’t as conservative as King’s Landing. We don’t force people to be together, we don’t expect women to wait to find pleasure until marriage. We don’t expect a fruitful marriage to come from sexual disappointment.”

Aemond blushed at her words, his eyes darting to the wall behind her, unable to keep her gaze as she spoke of things his mother would’ve slapped their wrists for.

“My mother said marriage is for the sake of duty. To unite strong houses.”

She scoffed, sending her friend a pointed look of disappointment.

“You’re forced to marry for every reason other than your own happiness. It’s barbaric.”

“It is duty.”

“So you just accept it? Being tied to someone you don’t love for the rest of your life?”

“Some grow to love each other.” He said quietly, though he couldn’t deny how undesirable the customs, one he had known his entire life, sounded to his own ears.

“So if you’re betrothed to a Baratheon daughter, you’ll accept it?”

“No, of course not.” He answered immediately, his tone sharper than he intended. 

“Why? You’ll have to marry someday. Soon I’ll need to go home and find myself a nice man to settle with.”

The reminder of his time with her coming to an end made it feel as though his heart was turning to stone. Her previous words about Ixtal’s customs suddenly came screaming back to him and his hands tightened into fists, fury rising within him at the thought of men touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

“Aemond.” 

The sound of that beautiful voice saying his name made him look up, the anger inside him washing away at the knowing look on her face. She stood from her seat and took slow steps towards him until she was only inches away, making his throat tighten at the closeness he was constantly longing for. 

The unspoken things between them bubbled to the surface, reaching a boiling point as they looked at each other in the dim light, the topic of conversation causing tensions to run high, threatening to reveal true emotions that were kept hidden for so long.

“Eventually, you’ll have to marry, and so will I. We’ll have to do our duty, as you say.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes unable to hold her gaze any longer, falling onto his hands that clenched and unclenched as waves of anxiety passed through him.

She sighed heavily and stepped past him, moving towards the door. She loved so many things about Aemond, but his refusal to feel anything but anger, his stubborn nature to speak his true thoughts, angered her.

“I don’t want you to go back to Ixtal.” He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But she heard him. She would always hear him. 

“Why?”

“Because you belong here.” He told her, his gaze rising to pierce into hers, his tone becoming sharp once more. “Because the thought of you going home, marrying some man that doesn’t deserve you, makes me furious. The thought of you-” He stopped abruptly, looking away from her, his hands clenched tightly.

“Would you be jealous knowing another man has touched me?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and moved towards her so they were now chest to chest. He had to fight hard to keep his composure, to not close his eyes in bliss at the feeling of her body against his.

“I would kill every man that dared to touch you.”

A devious smirk grew on her lips, one he wanted to kiss away desperately. 

“Would you feel jealous if-”

“Yes.” She answered immediately, shamelessly. She smirked at the way his breath hitched, as the hunger in his eye grew tenfold. “I don’t share.”

Aemond almost choked on his breath at her insinuation. 

Her arms slithered over his shoulders, pulling him in closer to her, close enough they could feel the other’s heart racing wildly. 

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” She whispered and Aemond could’ve sworn he would melt into the floor into a puddle of nothing. 

Her lips crashed onto his and he was powerless against her touch. He kissed her back with a furious desperation, revealing every ounce of desire he held for her. He needed her like the air he breathed and it was never more evident in the way his lips molded against hers, in the way his tongue tangled with hers, how his hands held to her hips tightly, ensuring she couldn’t part from his side. 

Her nails scratched against the leather of his doublet as she kissed him fiercely, hoping he would understand, hoping the hunger in her kiss and touch was enough to make him realize she didn’t want anyone but him. 

His mind was blank save for thoughts of her. 

The duty he had adhered to his entire life, the duty that had been instilled in him since his birth, didn’t exist. His duty to his mother, to his grandfather, didn’t exist as he kissed her. 

He knew then and there that he was going to marry her, his only friend, the beautiful girl that had his young heart racing, or he wouldn’t marry at all. 

They pulled away from the kiss, the both of them breathing heavily, neither parting too far from the other. Aemond smiled softly and let his forehead rest against hers. 

“I won’t marry her.” He breathed out in promise, his chest tightening pleasurably as he saw the smile that grew on her kiss swollen lips. 

“Iksā ñuhon, issa prūmia.” He whispered and placed a soft, slow kiss to her lips once more. 

Her mind was racing. She knew few Valyrian words but none sounded familiar. 

“What does that mean?” 

Aemond just smiled and kissed her again, content to stay in that moment for the rest of his life. 

The gravity of their actions, the realization that anyone could have walked into the library and saw them, could have told his mother or his grandfather, didn’t catch up to him until he had parted from her side and settled into bed for the night. 

He lay rigid, his mind racing, his heart heavy with guilt. 

If anyone had seen them it would have ruined her reputation. She’d be painted as a whore. The court would speculate what other Lord she’d kissed or opened her legs to. 

Aemond couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t ruin her. 

The next morning, every ounce of bliss he had felt with her lips against his was tainted with worry. He found her in the gardens, his cold stare softening as he spotted her sitting with Helaena and the twins. 

The sight of her with little Jaeheara in her arms made his heart stop for a moment. He swallowed thickly, desperately moving past the emotions, the longing, the sight stirred within him. 

“Good morning, brother.” Helaena greeted him brightly. 

He just nodded briefly in greeting, his posture stiff as his gaze landed on her. 

“Can we talk?”

Her smile faltered slightly and she placed the babe in her arms back to her mother before taking his offered arm, Aemond guiding them away from prying ears. 

“Is everything alright?”

“What happened yesterday-”

“Do you regret it?” She asked stiffly, her worry evident as her grip on his arm became lax, as if she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but by his side. 

“No! Never.” He responded frantically, his eyes leaving hers to take in their surroundings, making sure no one would hear them. “Yesterday was… it was long overdue.” 

“Then why are you so tense?” 

“No one can know.” 

She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. 

“The rumors that would spread if people saw us together would ruin you.”

“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.” She responded flippantly, her annoyance growing at Aemond’s worry. “Are you going to let me have a say in this or are we going to let the court decide our future for us?”

He spoke her name softly in exasperation, sparking her anger. She wrenched her arm out of his and walked a few paces to gain distance from him. She couldn’t think clearly so close to him. 

“If you weren’t being truthful yesterday then tell me. Spare me the lies and tell me how you truly feel.” 

“I wasn’t lying.” He assured her, his heart beginning to race in fear for where this conversation was headed. He loathed to hear the doubt in her voice. “I refuse to marry the Baratheon girl, I only want you.” He told her, his voice much quieter than before. 

The fire in her eyes dissipated, her fears subsiding and she stayed still in her spot as he stepped towards her, closing the distance between them. 

“We must keep this between us for now, at least until my father is more lucid and I can take our betrothal to him. I cannot let my grandfather know of this. He will only find a way to speed up a wedding to the Baratheon girl or any other Lady in the Keep.” 

She looked up at him with a smirk, her heart jumping at his words. 

“Betrothal?”

Aemond flushed and cleared his throat, as if the words were tightening his throat.

“Well, yes… is that not what-”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” She spoke in an overly saturated tone, interrupting his nervous words. He looked at her fiercely, his lone eye betraying every ounce of lust, longing, and annoyance he held for her games.

“You will never stop vexing me, will you?”

“I am certain you love it.” She teased, his swiftly pink turning cheeks all the answer she needed from him. She straightened, clearing her throat, as she moved back to the matter at hand. “So we must sneak around?” 

He looked regretful, his hands gently taking hers. 

“I know it’s not ideal.”

She shrugged. “If that is the only way I can have you now, then I can live with it.”

Aemond smiled, a breath of relief leaving his lips, the heavy weight on his chest dissipating quickly. 

A smirk grew on her lips, one he knew signaled mischief. 

“So, that means we’d have to remain as friends in public.” She surmised, stepping closer to him, much too close, as their chests brushed against each other. “But behind closed doors…”

Aemond swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in, his lips brushing against his ear as she spoke. 

“...I can do what I want with you.” 

Aemond cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep a hold of what little control he had left. 

“When we are behind closed doors, which we are not.” He reminded her, sounding exasperated, making her laugh softly. 

She loved the effect she had on him.

“Meet me in my chambers tonight.” She whispered and placed a soft, barely there, kiss to his cheek, before leaving his side and making her way back to Helaena, leaving him with pink cheeks and a racing heart.

Night couldn’t have come fast enough. He spent the day training vigorously, Ser Criston taking the brunt of his pent up anticipation with round after round of sparring. His knee bounced impatiently throughout dinner, paying no mind to his mother’s attempts to bring him into the conversations he couldn’t bother to focus on. 

He waited, long, torturous hours, until the sun had finally set and night descended on the Keep, the halls clearing as Lords, Ladies and their servants alike settled in for the night. 

He paced in his room for longer than he would ever admit, his nerves bubbling low in his stomach, his hands twitching as he longed to reach for a goblet of wine to ease his worries. 

He knew if his mother were to ever discover he had entered a lady’s chambers in the dead of night, let alone a Lady he was undeniably close to, she would slap him until he found his sense once again. 

Though no amount of worry, no guilt over his allegiance to his duty could ever be enough to overtake what he felt for her, what he had unknowingly felt for so long. 

With only his desire to see her, he purposefully strode across his room and pushed at the stone wall, silently thanking his brother for drunkenly revealing to him the secret passageways years ago.

 It only took a few minutes until he found her door. With a deep breath, he stepped in slowly, his eyes immediately finding her as she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the sheer slip she wore as she readied herself for bed. 

He cleared his throat, feeling a blush quickly and involuntarily growing on his cheeks as her eyes rose to meet his. 

“You came.” She smiled. 

“Of course I did.”

She got to her feet, taking slow steps towards him, as if he were a wild animal that would spook if she got too close too quickly. She knew he had a strong sense of duty, of what behavior was becoming of a princely man, it had been instilled in him by his family since he was born.

She knew he was breaking every single one of those lessons by being in her room so late at night. 

“You know we do not have to sneak around. You can wait to court me as is proper.” She reminded him, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“I can’t take that risk.” He spoke smoothly, as if it didn’t even require a second thought. “I can’t take the chance that we will be denied. I can’t lose you before I’ve even had you.”

She smiled, her heart jumping in anticipation.

“So take me while you can.”

Barely a second later Aemond had crossed the room, his hands cradling her face gently as he crashed his lips to her, kissing her passionately, revealing every ounce of his desire for her. 

She moaned happily against his lips, the noise forcing his body to tighten, every shred of control he thought he possessed gone in an instant. 

They kissed as if they had been lovers for years, as if he had been gone for so long and they couldn’t wait to reunite as only lovers could. 

His hands greedily roamed the curves he had admired for years. Her hands wove into his silken hair she had braided many times as children. The innocence was gone between them, no childlike wonderment left, leaving only their loving, lustful desires. 

They pulled away after a few minutes, the both of them breathing heavily, their swollen lips turning upwards into a shared smile as their eyes met, the pure bliss in his lone eye matching hers. 

He moved in again, desperate to get her lips back on his, but her hands on his chest stopped him. His brows furrowed, a strike of worry lashing him as he gazed at her in concern. 

“I want to see all of you.” Her quiet voice spoke, her delicate touch framing his face, her fingers slowly canting upwards to trace the edge of his scar. 

He flinched instinctively, having never felt the touch of another there, but almost instantly calmed as he stared into her eyes that reflected nothing but love and trust. 

She had been there for him through everything, she had been the only one to see him for more than his title, to respect him as he was, simply a boy trying to find his place in the world. 

He let out a shuddering breath, allowing his forehead to rest against hers as he built up the courage he needed to reveal his eye to her.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Aemond. I have known that for years and I certainly won’t think differently tomorrow.” She reassured him, her velvet voice melting the hardened resentment within him. 

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and reached up slowly, willing his hands not to tremble as he grasped the patch over his eye. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

A small laugh left her, scaring him momentarily until he saw the delight in her gaze rather than mocking cruelty as he had suddenly feared. 

“I can’t believe you really listened to me.” 

He smiled bashfully, remembering a conversation years ago, when she had suggested he put a ruby in place of his eye to resemble that of a dragon eye. He never told her when he took her suggestion, feeling too silly to divulge such a thing. 

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not a ruby.”

She shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Why did you pick a sapphire?”

“It reminded me of the sea.” He stated simply, watching with bashful satisfaction as her smile smoothed out, her expression one of touched devotion.

He always told her she reminded him of the calming and luxurious blue waves that crashed on the shores of Ixtal, the waves he had become mesmerized by the day he met her. 

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out, feeling unable to take her eyes off the shining gem that made the man in front of her look even more ethereal than he already did. 

Her eyes found the gem between every breathless and fiery kiss, somehow lingering as he pulled his clothes off, remaining, as if for comfort, as she bared herself to him for the first time. 

It was a beacon to her, the guiding light in the ferocity of a storm, calming every one of her nerves as she was reminded he was hers just as she was his, as they always had been. 

She felt as though there were sparks igniting under her skin as he touched her. She felt herself melt under his delicate fingers that curiously roamed her body. She felt beautiful under his awed gaze as he eagerly took in every inch of her, as if she were a divine entity he would soon bow to. 

The second a gasp escaped her as his fingers found the wetness between her thighs, Aemond’s eye snapped to hers. He watched with wonderment as she vocalized her pleasure, pleasure that was because of him. 

She smiled against his lips as he suddenly kissed her with a might she had never felt before. She was powerless against his hungry lips. 

He let out a stunted breath at the sound of the whine that fell past her lips as he curled his finger, seeking out her pleasure, eager for it as if it were his own

The two of them never let their eyes wander too far from each other. He watched with a wide, amazed gaze as he brought her to her peak with his fingers, delighting in the pain he felt as her nails dug into his shoulder as her hips grinded against his hand. 

The sounds of her soft moans echoed in his ears, alighting his body with furious desire. 

As he settled between her legs, he looked down at her, his eyes posing his silent question, the devotion she saw from the beauty of his lone eye, that she felt from the gentle touch of the tips of his fingers that traced lines up and down her thighs, was enough to have her nodding immediately, fiery want washing over her. 

He never dared to look away from the depth of her eyes as he delved inside her for the first time. 

He watched her carefully, whispering apologies as she gasped, the foreign feeling making her tense slightly. His gentle caresses, his soft kisses down the length of her neck, the words of praise he gave her, were enough to soothe her, her body relaxing, the pain fading.

He began to thrust slowly, the pleasure soon becoming too much and his eye fell closed as he shuddered from the delirious pleasure of being inside of her, but he forced himself to bring his gaze back to her, taking in the starry eyed look in her own. 

Their hands never left each other, Aemond gripped her hips as if he feared she would soon be forced away from him, her hands gripping onto his shoulders to ground herself in the wake of the unexpected pleasure he brought her. 

His nose brushed against hers as he kissed her softly, his hips finding a rhythm that made them both sigh in delight. He felt his limbs tremble, his resolve slipping the longer he stayed inside her, quickly realizing nothing in his entire existence would ever compare to this, to being with her, the woman he loved more than life itself. 

“Aemond.” She breathed out, pleading for him, pleading for this never to end, to never lose each other. 

He squeezed his eye shut briefly, his movements becoming more controlled as he let his body adjust to the ecstasy he was feeling. 

“You’re mine.” He panted, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin affectionately. “You will always be mine.” 

She nodded frantically, a moan falling past her lips as he found the spot inside her that made stars explode before her. 

The noise had Aemond gritting his teeth, a desperate growl sounding and he knew this would be ending soon. 

He quickened his movements, his hips rolling rapidly against hers. He choked out a surprised sounding moan as her legs wove around his waist, pulling him in deeper. 

“Oh, Gods, I can’t-”

“Give it to me, Aemond. I want it. I want all of you.” She replied frantically, the growl in his voice causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

She watched, entirely raptured by the sight before her as Aemond’s jaw dropped, his eye widening before slamming shut, his body trembling as a loud, desperate sounding groan fell from his lips. His hips became erratic, his movements becoming sloppy as he came hard, untethered from his control.

She gasped at the feeling, the tingling in her spine spreading until it burst, a cry of his name sounding in the room as she fell off the edge just a moment behind him. 

Aemond slumped against her, his chest heaving alongside her own, his shuddering breaths cooling the skin at her shoulder where his head rested. 

She ran her hands over his muscled shoulders and found their way into his hair and she began to run her fingers through his mussed strands gently as she found her way back to her body.

After a moment of quiet as their breathing relaxed, Aemond raised his head, his eye finding hers, her gaze locking onto the gem once more, their shared smiles bashful. 

A soft giggle sounded from her and Aemond wanted to melt into her all over again. He rested his head against hers, placing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you.” He whispered in the quiet room. 

“I love you.” She told him with just as much honesty and devotion as had sounded in his voice. 

~~

ENJOY! XX

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[wonlovie]

— RACING, BEATING.

You didn’t mean to show up to one of the most important meetings of your year completely hungover. No, in reality you would have preferred being sober when you met the man your father was marrying you off to. But how could you resist those dark eyes and plump lips that tempted you on your final night of freedom?

— starring. illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader

— tags. arranged marriage!au but they kind of not really hate each other for like one scene, reader is touch starved af, smut [mild public sex (car, elevator), vaginal fingering, oral (m. receiving), face-fucking, establishment of a safeword but it's never used, degrading (use of whore and stupid bitch) [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 11.9k

— notes. there was a whole other part to this but i kept rewriting it until i could not anymore 💀 if i do finally get it written the way i want to, i might release it as a part two to this 👀👀 lmk if u'd be interested!!

You were used to playing pretend. As the daughter of an influential CEO, you were born in the spotlight, never knowing what living without a camera pointed at you was like. By seven years old, you were a master at faking a smile. A gentle smile, never too broad because people would call you an overachiever but never too little, or you’d be caught up in unhappy scandals. 

By fifteen years old, your father had announced your title as the face of his company and your ‘normal’ life as you knew it was gone forever. You no longer had time for actual studies nor for the fruitless relationships you had gathered. Instead, you spent your hours practicing your runway walk and your model face. Almost every wall in your lofty house was lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors, never allowing you for a second to forget how you looked to others.

Your father was never one to miss out on making money, priding himself on his cynical and opportunistic ways of life. If something could be monetized, he was always the first one to come up with a foolproof plan to capitalize on it. Which is why you weren’t surprised when he announced to you that you were to be married off to the heir of a big company whose name you saw almost everywhere. 

Years spent watching your peers grow up normally, studying hard and partying harder, left behind a bitter jealousy that you could never voice. For once, you wanted to feel normal. For once, you wanted to feel like your father’s daughter and not his employee. For once, you wanted to forget the world and experience true freedom. 

That was how you found yourself sitting on an uncomfortable barstool, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop with a glass of some mystery drink hanging from your fingertips. The dress you wore stuck to your skin, showing off more of your body than you were ever allowed to in public. There was a dull burn in your calves from the stilettos you wore, but you paid no mind to them as you sipped gingerly on the liquor.

Tomorrow, you would be meeting the man your father was giving you away to. You knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was one of your father’s business partner’s son. You silently tipped up your drink, a silent toast to your last night of freedom. Knocking your head back, you winced at the unfamiliar burn as you emptied the glass.

When you ungracefully dropped the empty glass onto the counter, red lips stained the rim. “Another, miss?” you vaguely heard the bartender ask. You nodded without thinking, eyes staring forward without focus. Your cheeks felt warm from the few drinks you’d had since you sat down. As the bartender poured you another drink, you allowed your gaze to drift, scanning the room in curiosity.

Red lights lit up the space, random spotlights moving about from the ceiling. The music played loud enough to leave a slight ringing in your ear, your bones vibrating to the beat. Hundreds of people flooded the floor, you noted. Some pairs danced against each other provocatively, intriguing you as you eyed a girl making out with a taller man over her shoulder. Some people danced alone, mouthing the words to a song you didn’t recognize.

As you looked around, your eyes met a stranger’s from across the bar. He sat alone, unlike the many other patrons of the club, a half-emptied pint in front of him. From where you were, you could make out the details of his attire—a dark blazer that fit snugly over the expanse of his shoulders. He wore a silk button-up, rudely unbuttoned low, allowing you to see the curve of his collarbones down to the lines of his chest.

When your eyes flit up to glance at his face, he was already staring at you. His expression, which you can only describe as alluring, prompted you to suck your bottom lip under your teeth, gently biting at the skin. Dark eyes watched you from across the room, looking you up and down slowly before settling on your face. You watched carefully as a tongue flicked out to lick his pink lips before the corners pulled up into a smirk. He rose a brow at you, hair pushed back enough to let you see his silent beckon.

You mirrored his expression, taking a sip of your drink as you stared at him through the glass. The man held a hand up, showing off silver rings wrapped around his slender fingers that made you want to sin. Clearing your throat, you looked away and down at your drink, amber liquid sloshing around in the glass. Before you could even take another swig, a shot glass slid in front of you, its contents almost spilling out.

Looking up in confusion, you called over the bartender, who’d already turned his back to you. “Excuse me? I didn’t order a shot,” you yelled over the blaring music. The bartender glanced at you for a second before nodding his head in the direction of the man who, when you looked, was already gone. The bartender continued, already pouring a drink for another.

Knitting your brows together, you brought the shot glass up to your nose, scrunching it when the strong smell of vodka invaded your senses. A cough tickled your throat as you held the offending shot glass away. Your eyes danced over the many heads in the room, but the mystery man was nowhere in sight. Heaving a sigh, you tipped your head back, swallowing the bitter liquid as quickly as you could. Wincing slightly, you let out a breath as you placed the glass next to the other one.

“Atta’ girl,” a smooth voice crooned in your ear, tickling your skin and leaving behind goosebumps. A hand reached around, grazing the tops of your thighs as its owner spun your barstool around. Face to face with the man of the night, your breath hitched as you found yourself inches away from him. You wondered if he could hear your racing heartbeat over the pounding music.

Up close, you could see his lip ring, plump pink lips pushing against the silver as he peered down at you. His hand moved from the barstool to your waist, his warmth spreading over your skin like wildfire. His other hand leaned on the counter behind you, surrounding you in his essence. His attention was overwhelming as you caught his eyes glimpsing down at your lips before dropping to the curve of your breasts under your dress.

Your hands hovered over your lap, clenching and unclenching as you tried to figure out what to do with them. Keeping eye contact with you, the man leaned forward until he was a hair away, closer than any other man had been. “I’ve never seen you here before,” he spoke lowly, your ears just barely grabbing onto his words. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing stuck at the bar, hm?” 

You bit your lip, his eyes quickly darting down. “Just… enjoying the night,” you mumbled, resisting the urge to lean forward. The air in your lungs felt trapped as your mind filled with incoherent thoughts. 

The man tilted his head at you, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he bore his gaze into you. The hand on your waist pulled you forward until you were almost pressed against him, his thumb rubbing up and down over the fabric of your dress. “Didn’t seem like you were enjoying it,” he said, his breath fanning over your neck as he leaned to whisper in your ear. “I know how you can really start enjoying your night, sweetheart.”

When his lips brushed against your jugular, you had to stop yourself from throwing your head back, the simple touch sending you haywire. “Yeah?” your voice came out breathy, your hands finally settling to rest on his chest. Bent over you like this, his shirt rode lower than ever, letting you see his chiselled torso. You brushed a thumb over his skin, burning to the touch as he leaned back to look you in the eye. “How so?”

He smirked, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He pulled you closer by the chin, using his thumb to pull at your bottom lip gently. Your heart raced as he came closer, his nose nudging your own as your eyes subconsciously started to close. “Just let me take care of you,” he rasped, his lips brushing against yours. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a shiver down your spine, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him as his grin seemingly grew. “Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

It didn’t take much convincing for you to follow the man out of the crowded club, guided by a hand on the wrist. With as many drinks as you had in you, it might’ve been worrying with the ease with which he was able to take you by the hand. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care as excitement bubbled in your lower abdomen. 

Even his back was attractive, all broad shoulders and straight lines. A few earrings hooped around his ears, glinting under the strobe lights. When he pulled you outside, the cool night air was starkly different from the hot temperature inside. Goosebumps rose on your bare arms, causing the man to glance back at you with a worried look. Not another word was said as he brought you to a car you’d never seen anyone actually drive around town.

It was a bold red colour, something that reminded you of a crimson fire. You blinked when he opened the passenger side door for you as it swung upwards. The car was low, and you felt a bit awkward climbing in with your stilettos, but the man waited patiently until you were inside before closing the door. You watched as he walked around the car to the driver’s side, the head-up display blinking on the windshield when he started the ignition.

“Wow,” you mumbled dumbly, easily getting comfortable on the leather seat. He spared you an amused look, one eyebrow raised, paired with a smug smile. Leaning over, your breath hitched as he pulled the seatbelt over you, the click of its buckle cutting through the silence. He stayed there for a moment, hovering over you with eyes so intense you felt your mouth dry out. 

“So fucking pretty,” he whispered, finally leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was aggressive, his calloused hand cupping your face and forcing you closer. Your teeth clashed as he licked into your mouth, but the searing feeling in your stomach made it impossible for you to care. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, eliciting a moan as his hand wandered down to your outer thigh. His fingers danced across your skin, pushing your skirt up until your black lace panties were exposed. 

You threw your head back as he pressed his thumb against your folds, feeling how wet you’d gotten over the course of your earlier conversation. He breathed harshly, attaching his lips to your neck as he grazed a finger up and down your clothed cunt. You had no doubt that by morning, you would be painted with bruises. The thought was exciting to you.

He slipped a finger underneath the fabric of your panties, groaning when he felt your slick coat him in an instant. “So wet for me,” he almost growled, pulling his hand out despite your whines of disapproval. He pulled back, eyes flitting over your heaving form before settling into his seat. His lips were smudged red with your lipstick, and you found it unfair at how hot it was.

He was quick to pull away from the curb, the engine roaring to life as he drove down the busy street. It felt uncomfortably sticky between your thighs, rubbing them together. He was quick to grasp your thigh, pulling your legs open as he drove. While the hand on your thigh was still, his impatience showed in the hand that held the steering wheel, his finger tapping against it whenever he’d hit a red light.

You weakly moaned when his hand drifted higher, his pinky brushing against your core. You spread your legs further, urging him to do more than just light touches, but he didn’t give in to your silent pleas. The ride to, what you presumed was his place, was unbearably long as he continued to tease you. He would grip your thigh tightly, his rings pressing into your skin, and suddenly move up to flick at your covered clit. His sporadic movements left you a whining mess, your heart pounding against your ribcage. “Need you so badly,” you whined, flushing in embarrassment at how you sounded. 

He scoffed, scraping his nail over your thigh, making you jump. “I can tell,” he said, his tone degrading as he pinched your skin. “Whining like a whore in my front seat, like it’ll make me fuck you any faster.” You gasped, his words going straight to your cunt. You could feel yourself get wetter, your panties sticking to your folds agonizingly. 

You bit your lip as he pulled into an underground parking lot, the orange-hued lights casting an intimidating shadow over his face. When he finally parked, you realized he had brought you to a fancy apartment building. The parking lot was empty, not a soul in sight. Despite his words, he still opened your door for you, pulling you out of the car roughly. When the door closed, he pressed you against it, forcing his lips against yours as he ground his hips into yours. You moaned into his mouth at how hard he’d gotten, gripping at his blazer with shaking hands.

His kiss left you breathless, and you found that you really liked the feeling of his hands harshly holding your hips, keeping you from moving too far from him. You tongued at his piercing, taking his bottom lip into your mouth as he moved to push your dress up again. Pulling away, he was quick to kiss your neck as your eyes darted around the empty lot.

“Not here,” you gasped when he bit at the skin under your ear, “what if someone…”

He bit down harder, making you whine. “Let them see then,” he spat. “Let them see how much of a slut you are for me, sweetheart.” You made a noise of disagreement, causing him to pull away. You looked like a mess in heels, hair tousled, no longer in neat waves as you had them before, and makeup smudged. The glassy look in your eyes made him grin at you, a menacing curve of his pink lips. 

He grabbed your wrist again, tugging you to the underground elevator as his car beeped behind you. The few seconds it took for the elevator to reach the parking lot felt agonizingly long, your legs shaking in anticipation.

The second the doors opened, he had you pressed against the frigid elevator walls, his hand blindly reaching to touch one of the top buttons. He pushed your dress up past your hips, fingering the lace undergarment between his thumb and pointer. Without wasting a second, he tugged. The sound of fabric ripping took you out of your trance as you realized he had completely torn them off you.

“Hey,” your voice was clipped as you frowned. “Those were expensive.”

He rolled his eyes at you, tucking the tattered fabric into his back pocket. “I’ll buy you a new set,” he said, annoyed that you had interrupted him. “Now shut up, princess.” He took your lips again, his hand moving to wrap loosely around your neck. He swiped his tongue over your lip as his free hand grasped at your hips.

“Fuck,” you whined highly when he traced a line up your cunt, collecting your juices on his fingertip. He made quick work with you, swiping over your clit with his thumb as he pushed two fingers into your sopping hole. The hand around your neck pressed down lightly, sending your senses into overdrive as he kissed you again. 

“My name’s Heeseung,” he said against your lips. “Moan it for me tonight, yeah?” You nodded feebly as you spouted your own name in a mess of stutters.

When the elevator beeped, indicating that you were on the designated floor, he unwillingly pulled away from you. He stared at you darkly, pupils blown as he sucked his fingers clean. Your eyes trained on the way his tongue flicked at his rings, your slick disappearing into his mouth. You pulled your dress down as he guided you out with a hand on the small of your back.

When you made it into his apartment, you didn’t have time to gawk at how fancy it was, decked out with marble tiles and sleek glass light fixtures. As the door closed behind him, he pressed himself against your behind, grinding into your ass as he groaned lowly in your ear. His fingers dragged the fabric of your dress up to your waist, leaving your lower half exposed as Heeseung left dainty kisses against your bare shoulder.

Pulling the dress up and off, he ushered you further into the apartment, pushing open the door to his bedroom. He dropped the dress in the corner of the room before turning you around to face him. He took your lips, pressing deeply against you as he felt you up. His hands roamed as he licked into your mouth, one hand cupping and groping your left breast while the other shifted downwards. Resting on your hip, he brought you closer to him, pressing your bare cunt against his boner.

You reached down, palming his hard-on through his pants. He threw his head back in a silent moan, allowing you to continue with your ministrations. You hastily unbuckled his belt, tossing it on the floor next to your dress. Pushing his pants and boxers down past his knees, you almost moaned at the sight of his pretty cock.

It was long and thick, twitching as it wept pre-cum at the tip. It was a pretty flushed colour, enticing you closer. Looking up at him through your lashes, you watched Heeseung’s reaction as you licked the mushroom head gingerly. You scrunched up your nose at the bitter taste, but Heeseung’s wanton expression urged you to continue.

Taking the whole tip in your mouth, you sucked gently. You could feel yourself gush at the sound of his loud moan, pressing your thighs together as you tried to take more of him. He grazed the back of your throat before you could even take half of him. The sight of you struggling on his length made him feel impossibly hard, his ringed hand moving to grasp at your hair. Determined to make him feel good, you traced one of the veins that stretched along the length of his shaft with your fingernail before taking his cock in your fist.

Bobbing your head slowly, you matched your pass with your hand wherever your mouth couldn’t reach. Heeseung breathed heavily at the feeling of your hot cavern taking him in, your tongue swirling around his tip in a way that drove him up the wall. He could barely imagine how being in your cunt would feel, the mental image making him thrust unexpectedly against you.

When you gagged at the suddenness, Heeseung groaned, using your fisted hair to guide you up and down his shaft. “Fuck, baby,” he sighed, head thrown back and eyes scrunched in pleasure as you gained speed. “That mouth of yours is so fucking perfect. Like it was made for my cock.” He hissed when his head pressed against the back of your throat, holding it there until you swallowed around him, tears welling in your eyes.

The sounds that you were making would normally disgust you, the wet gags and spit dripping down your front as you struggled to take his girth, but with Heeseung, it only turned you on more. You rubbed your thighs together, feeling your slick coat your puffy folds.

Using his other hand to grip at your hair, he held you still as he fucked into your mouth, jaw agape as he watched you suckle on his length. You looked like the embodiment of sin, on your knees and taking his cock so well. He rubbed at the smudged mascara underneath your eyes, only making it spread as tears dripped down your face. “Shit,” he mumbled, gripping your hair tighter. “Fuck, I wanna make a mess on you, baby. Can I?” 

You nodded the best you could, the thought of him cumming all over you making you impossibly wet. Swearing loudly, Heeseung pulled himself out of your mouth, using his hand to force your mouth open. You stuck your tongue out as he pumped himself desperately, chasing his release as he bore into your eyes. You gasped when he came, ropes of his cum shooting over your face and tongue.

He watched intently as you swallowed whatever landed in your mouth, wiping at the cum that dripped down your cheeks. “Get on the bed,” he said gruffly, not wanting to go another second without feeling your cunt drip around him.

You wasted no time in following his instructions, scooting further up the bed as he crawled on after you. He spread your legs roughly, situating himself between your thighs. Heeseung leaned forward, kissing you again as one of his hands rested around your throat. As he kissed you, sucking on your bottom lip before shoving his tongue into your mouth, his free hand traced down the side of your body.

Without warning, he touched your core, collecting your wetness on his fingertips as he rubbed up and down your cunt. You moaned loudly as he switched between teasing your entrance and swiping across your clit. “You’re so fucking wet, princess,” he groaned, kissing you deeply as he finally thrust two fingers into your hole.

You cried out into the kiss, arching your back up and into him as you held on. You gripped at his bicep that flexed with each movement, his fingers curling up into you. It didn’t take long for him to find your G-spot, rubbing dedicatedly against the spongey walls of your cunt. He sped up, thrusting his fingers into you with ease, slipping around your juices.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you almost screamed as you neared your orgasm, “I’m so, so close, please—”

He pulled his fingers out, making you whine in disapproval, your eyes opening wide as you begged him to keep touching you. He ignored your silent pleas, taking his soaked fingers into his mouth as he had before. You watched, in a trance, as he swirled his tongue around his slender digits, the sight making you squirm in anticipation.

He reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a few packages. You glanced at them through your ditzy stupor, surprised to see several condom wrappers. Upon closer inspection, you realized they all had different flavours. “Pick one,” he instructed in an almost joking manner as if he didn’t just bring you to the edge with his fingers.

You contemplated just grabbing one at random, not wanting to wait any longer to feel him inside you. Reaching for one, you subconsciously made a face when you read what flavour it was.

“Not a fan of strawberry?” he asked rhetorically as he took the wrapper from you and tossed it back in the drawer. Impatient, he picked one and threw the rest back where he got them. You watched with intrigue as he opened the package with his teeth before rolling it onto his already hard cock.

“Hey,” he mumbled once he got the condom fully rolled on. “If you want me to stop at any moment, just say… Bambi, okay?”

You looked at him warily. “Bambi?”

He didn’t elaborate any further, pressing the tip of his cock against your folds. He rubbed the head through your slick, bumping against your clit before pressing into your tight entrance. He groaned in unison with you at the intrusion. You winced at the stretch, shoving your face into one of his pillows.

When he bottomed out, he pressed a sweet kiss against your cheek before pulling back and slamming into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you gasped for air, his sudden harsh thrusts surprising you. He breathed heavily as he moved, draping your legs over his shoulders as he leaned into you. 

“So deep,” you cried, squirming at the stimulation. “Fuck, Heeseung!”

He moaned at the sound of his name on your tongue, leaning down to kiss you. The position only made him go deeper, and you struggled to kiss him properly, mind foggy with pleasure. His balls slapped against your ass, echoing against the walls. The sound of your sex was burned into your mind, Heeseung’s breathy groans and moans of your name bound to haunt your dreams from now on.

Heeseung pulled out and flipped you onto your side, re-entering you with ease. The position was something you’d never done before as Heeseung held your leg against his torso as he thrust harshly. He moaned out your name as he closed his eyes, as lost in the pleasure as you were.

“‘M gonna cum,” you warned, your voice high and shaking as you reached down to circle your clit. At the sight of you touching yourself, Heeseung sighed with rapture, trying hard to get you to the edge. 

“Cum around me, baby,” he hushed as his thrusts grew harder, rougher. “Come on, you can do it.”

At his words, it felt like a cord had snapped inside of you, and you cried out as you came. He helped you through your orgasm, thrusting shallowly as your body shook and jolted. Once you had calmed down, he pulled out and fisted himself over the condom, the lube mixed with your wetness making it easy for his hand to slip up and down.

You watched, exhausted, as he leaned over you, a look of concentration on his face as he got off on your body. White filled the condom, low groans of your name reverberating in his chest as he collapsed on the bed next to you. You barely processed him standing to throw out the used rubber or how he came back with a warm towel and wiped you down gently. 

Your eyes closed, and you felt yourself succumb to slumber.

When you awoke the next morning, you swore. Head pounding, you pressed your face into your pillow in annoyance. Of course, you would be having the worst hangover of your life. You didn’t even want to think about what your father would say if he knew you’d be walking into the meeting in a few hours, completely hungover.

You paused, pressing your face further into the pillow. The smell was unfamiliar, you noted. Not a second later, you sat up, eyes wide. Your lips parted in disbelief as you remembered where you were, memories of last night quickly returning to you. Holding the blanket up to your bare chest, you willed yourself to look over at the other side of the bed. 

Heeseung lay there, rolled over onto his stomach, his cheek resting against the pillow as he slept. His hair was messy, sticking up in different directions almost cutely. You made a face when you caught a glimpse of angry red scratches down his back.

He looked unnervingly peaceful, considering the stampede your heart was experiencing. You swore under your breath again, quietly stepping out of the bed. The floorboard creaked underneath your weight, your head snapping back to see if the noise woke him up. Fortunately, he stayed blissfully in rest. You held your breath as you collected your discarded dress and your heels, also picking up the silk button-up you had thrown off of him last night. 

He’s rich, clearly, you justified, taking a brief look around the room. His closet was cracked open, revealing several more expensive-looking clothes. Though, in your haste to make it to the bedroom, you didn’t get a good look at the rest of his apartment. You knew that it was huge if the building’s name wasn’t an indicator already. He won’t miss one shirt.

Not wanting to risk waking him up, you tip-toed out of the room before getting dressed in the hallway. You slipped the button-up on top of your dress and made your way to the front door, heels in hand. As you pushed the door open, you panicked when it beeped in alarm. With haste, you ran outside and closed the door before Heeseung could catch you sneaking out.

Without bothering to put your heels on, you booked it to the elevator, making it inside in time for you to hear Heeseung call your name. With wide eyes, you pressed the close doors button more times than necessary, only relaxing when they finally did close.

You opened your phone, only to see a text from your father asking where you were. Making an excuse, you used the reflective elevator walls to fix your appearance.

If anyone saw you, they would be none the wiser to the previous night. The automatic doors to your father’s company opened as you approached, a gust of air from the air conditioning pushing your freshly styled hair out of your face. Any marks that littered across your neck and shoulders were expertly covered up, and your eyebags were concealed just as well.

The sound of your heels, which your father insisted you wore in public, in the otherwise quiet lobby gathered the attention of the gaggle of people. Having so many eyes on you didn’t bother you as much as it had before, something you’re grateful to have gotten used to. Smiling politely at the pair of receptionists, you were quick to make your way up to your father’s office.

The elevator dinged, and you couldn’t help but think back to last night. The feeling of Heeseung’s warmth pressed against you as he fingered you and touched you was a thrill you don’t think you could forget if you tried. Clearing your throat, you looked at yourself in the mirrored walls, another habit you couldn’t get rid of. 

Deeming yourself as presentable, you stepped out of the elevator and into your father’s large office. He sat at his desk, typing away at his computer. If he heard you come in, which he must’ve, he didn’t react. His graying hair stood out under the sunlight that the floor-to-ceiling windows let in. The glasses perched on his nose bridge threatened to fall down as his fingers tapped relentlessly. 

“Good morning, Father,” you greeted, sitting down at the chair adjacent to his desk. He didn’t look up. “I’m a little early.” You crossed your legs, resting clasped hands on top of your knees. It didn’t surprise you when he didn’t say anything in reply, so you opted to look out the window. Being on the top floor, you could see most of the town. You could watch the bustling traffic and pedestrian-filled streets for hours, the busyness of life fascinating to you.

You weren’t able to stare for too long before a familiar ding interrupted your daydreams. You straightened your back, facing forward as your father stood to greet the newcomer. Unlike when you came in, your father straightened out his blazer with a warm smile, something that looked foreign to you. You watched quietly as he manoeuvred around the desk to formally greet the guest.

“Ah,” your father greeted placatingly, his timber voice filling the space.. “Lee Heeseung, it is great to finally meet you. I have heard much about you from your father.”

You felt your heart stop when you heard his name. Unwilling to turn around, you stared into the window’s faint reflection in hopes of seeing the man’s face. Maybe your Heeseung wasn’t the only Lee Heeseung in town. Surely, it wasn’t too uncommon of a name because there was no way that your one-night stand just happened to be your husband-to-be.

If your heart stopped when you heard his name, your soul left your body when you heard him talk. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you, sir. I am honoured that you picked me out of all of your daughter’s candidates.”

As subtly as you could, you slapped a hand over your mouth.

You heard their footsteps grow closer. “Well, please have a seat,” your father ushered. “She’s right here. You ought to meet your future bride, right?” With each of their perfectly synced steps, you could imagine another foot of your grave being dug. “Heeseung, this is my daughter.” You inhaled sharply and took his cue to stand.

When you turned on your heel, you were sure that Heeseung’s shocked expression matched your own. Recognition burst behind his eyes, hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his lips—which you noticed was missing its piercing—parted in shock. You silently willed him to keep quiet about the night before, looking at him with widened eyes and a painfully fake smile.

“It’s you,” he blurted out, pointing at you with the slightest bend of his elbow. If you weren’t in front of your father, you could have smacked him over the head. “I was wondering where you went.”

Internally screaming, you put on a faux confused expression to match your father’s. “You two are acquainted already?” he asked, looking at you for confirmation. You were quick to shake your head no, glaring at Heeseung when your father looked away.

Bowing your head slightly, you smiled up at Heeseung as you would any other businessman. “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you lied through your teeth, desperately hoping he would catch on. “We have never met before today. But it is nice to meet you.” You held out a hand for him to shake, which he did after fumbling for a bit.

Heeseung looked at you with a confused gaze, eyebrows knitted together before a lightbulb went off. “Right,” he smiled graciously, putting on a persona completely different from the one you met before. “My apologies. It is nice to meet you. I’m Lee Heeseung.” Letting go of your hand, he nodded when you introduced yourself. 

Clapping his hands together, your father grinned widely at the both of you. “Now, I have some work to tend to, but the two of you can continue to get to know each other downstairs.” Wanting nothing more than to escape the stuffy room, you agreed stiffly. “I’ll have the wedding planners contact you both later on.” Your father nodded at Heeseung once more before returning to his desk, the sound of his noisy keyboard filling the room again.

Heeseung followed you out after saying goodbye to your father, standing far too close to you in the elevator. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” he drawled out, voice dry. “The very woman who I happened to have a fun night with, only to wake up with her nowhere in sight, is the very woman whom I’m marrying.” He bore his gaze into you as he leaned against the elevator wall, his prim posture long gone. “How exciting, is it not?”

“Please, Heeseung, do not bring up last night.” Your voice was terse as you pinched your nose bridge in frustration, your ears and face warming up. 

Heeseung raised a brow at your request, pushing off the elevator wall and stepping close to you. Your eyes widened as he backed you into the wall, eyes darting to the LED screen that showed which floor you were on. If anyone were to need the elevator, they would catch Heeseung pinning you to the wall, and you would have no excuse for it. “Come on, princess,” his voice lifted into a tease, “that’s not how you were begging me last night.”

You groaned, dropping your head and hitting it against the wall behind you. “Heeseung,” you hissed, glaring at him. You tried very hard to ignore the way that his glasses framed his face nicely and made him even more handsome, which you didn’t think was possible. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Do not bring up last night unless you want me to castrate you.”

Heeseung pouted at you, resting a hand on his chest as though you’d mortally wounded him. “But if you castrate me, how am I supposed to please—”

“Heeseung!”

He laughed openly at you, shoulders shaking as his lips split open into a grin. “You’re so easy to rile up, princess.” He leaned toward you, hovering himself above you by resting his forearm against the wall. You glanced at the screen again, silently cursing your father for owning a building with slow elevators. “I don’t know what’s so bad about people finding out that we’re—how do you say it?—well acquainted.”

You breathed out in annoyance at his ignorance. “Did you hit your head? I don’t know about you, Heeseung, but I do care about how the public perceives me.” You jabbed a finger at his chest, though it had no effect on him. “If people find out, then…” You trailed off, your brows furrowing as you looked at the ground, the recently shined tiles sparkingly under the fluorescent lights.

“Then?”

You bit your lip, thinking back at your father and his cold demeanour. “Look,” you started, shoulders deflating. “If my father finds out that I went to that club at all and had sex with some guy that I didn’t know… He wouldn’t react well.” You spoke lowly, the topic dampening your mood immensely.

“Ouch,” Heeseung joked, tilting his head at you. “So, I’m just some guy to you?”

You deadpanned at him, unimpressed with the small snippet of information he chose to focus on. “You get what I mean, asshole. So please, just stop bringing it up. At least, not in front of him.” Your faith in his compassion was dwindling by the second, and his silence wasn’t doing much to help. When the elevator doors opened, you were ready to give up and began formulating an apology to your father for your behaviour.

Before you could duck under his arm to make your way out, he laid a gentle hand on your wrist. “Okay, okay. I won’t talk about it again. You have my word, princess.” You balked at his sudden sincerity, but before you could even utter a thank you, he opened his mouth again. “No more talking about how we had the most mindblowing sex—”

“Lee Heeseung!” You chided, quickly ducking under his arm and rushing out of the elevator. Your face burned as you walked through the lobby, no doubt catching the attention of curious onlookers. Embarrassment flooded your veins as you exited the building, standing on the curb with your face in your hands.

Not wanting to be there any longer, you pulled out your phone and searched for your personal driver’s contact. Before you could press the green call button, your phone was snatched out of your manicured hands. “Hey—!”

To your surprise, or perhaps you weren’t surprised at all, Heeseung stood next to you with your phone haphazardly dangling between his fingers. “What are you doing?” You asked as you reached to grab it. He pulled it away, grinning when it left you pressed against him.

“What are you doing?”

You rolled your eyes, jumping to grab your phone. Once it was back in your possession, you went to call your driver. “Going,” you answered simply.

“Going where?”

“Going anywhere but here.”

He clicked his tongue, pulling a pair of keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive you. There’s no need to wait for your driver.”

You eyed him suspiciously, your thumb hovering over the call button. “I don’t think you understand. When I said I wanted to be anywhere but here, here is referring to here with you.”

He gave you the same look as he did in the elevator, lips upturned into a pout as his eyebrows arched upward. “You really do wound me, princess.” He pressed a button on his fob, and you could see a car’s lights flash a few meters away. It wasn’t the same one he had driven you in last night, so you looked at him in question. “I have two cars. One for business, one for fun,” he winked at you when he said the last word, only laughing when you pretended to vomit in your mouth.

“Come on, princess,” he took your wrist for the nth time. “Let’s go.” You begrudgingly followed, not missing the way several workers from inside had lined up against the window to watch the interaction. You smiled politely at them again, waving goodbye as Heeseung practically dragged you along.

Just as he had the night before, he opened the door for you. This car was much simpler in design than the bright red one, with a dashboard instead of a HUD and a simple touch screen instead of dozens of buttons and features you were too distracted to play with.

As he drove off, you stared out the window, refusing to look in his direction. He had pushed up the sleeves of his blazer, showing off his toned and veiny forearms as he drove, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the middle console. “I’ll take you home,” Heeseung claimed as he slowed to a stop for a red light. “But let me show you something first.”

You looked at him incredulously but only nodded before looking out the window again.

You didn’t pay attention to where he was taking you, watching fondly as groups of friends walked down the streets, wide grins splitting their faces as they talked. It was rush hour, and you ended up paused in traffic long enough to watch a couple emerge from one of the street stores, arms linked and full of shopping bags. They were wearing matching sweatpants and sweaters, making you look down at the dress you wore. Pursing your lips, you stopped looking as you pulled your skirt down.

“Y’know, last night your skirt was getting pushed up.”

At his words, you glared at him. “You are so sleazy.”

Heeseung only grinned, never taking his eyes off of the road. “Something’s on your mind. Had to get you out of that head of yours somehow.” He briefly glanced at you, “Did it work?”

You blinked in surprise before looking away. Your hands clenched on your lap. “Where are we going?” you asked, changing the subject. You pretended not to notice when Heeseung stared at you, opting to look straight ahead.

“Somewhere I frequent. I’ll give you some leverage over me.” You peeked at him as he made a left turn, tracing over the lines of his arms. “Sound good, princess?”

You could only scrunch your nose in confusion. “Why would you want me to have leverage over you in the first place?”

Heeseung shrugged. “It’s clear you don’t trust me. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t bring us up again in front of your dad, but I don’t think you believe me ‘cause you’ve barely looked at me since you got in the car.” You winced, not liking how he read through you so easily when you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “So, I’m bringing you somewhere that I’ve kept secret. You’ll be the only one who knows who could actually, you know, get me in shit with my dad.”

Unsure of what to say, you stared at his side profile in shock. “You are so confusing,” you muttered, leaning over to look out the window. You rested your chin on your palm to cover your warming face.

Before long, Heeseung pulled into an indoor race track’s parking lot. You looked out the window in confusion. Even from outside, you could hear the revving of engines and the squeaking of tires against asphalt. You spared Heeseung a look, climbing out of the car wordlessly. He nodded his head at you, guiding you to the entrance. 

When you entered, the first thing you noticed was the yelling. Specifically, the sounds of fifth graders screaming as they circled the track in their go-karts. “Heeseung, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but a kiddie go-kart track isn’t exactly a best-kept secret.” A kid zoomed by on his kart, screaming at the top of his lungs as he pressed hard on the gas.

Heeseung only rolled his eyes at you, “So impatient.” Taking your hand in his, he tugged you along the back wall until you reached a staff-only door. Before you could argue, clearly neither of you was staff, Heeseung pushed the door open as if he owned the place. You gawked at him, whipping your head around to see if any staff were coming to kick you out.

To your surprise, the man behind the front counter only nodded in acknowledgement before going back to his morning coffee.

Heeseung kept walking, his large hand never leaving yours. You subconsciously balled them, swallowing thickly when Heeseung untangled your fingers to interlock them with his. Sneaking a look at you over his shoulder, he cheekily stuck his tongue out. The hallway beyond the door was empty, aside from a few bulletins with weekly events posted on them. 

Once you reached the end of the hall, a staircase leading to a basement came into view. You pinched your eyebrows together in suspicion, rooting your feet on the ground before Heeseung could pull you any further. “Look, I’m not really in the mood to be murdered today, so I think we’ll have to reschedule—”

Rolling his eyes at you for the nth time that day, he pulled harder on your hand, almost knocking you off your feet. He caught you with ease, his warm palm pressing against your waist as he waited for you to steady yourself. “Trust me a little, please? I promise you won’t get murdered.” At the end of his sentence, he held out a pinky. You stared incredulously at him, decked out in office attire yet holding out his baby finger to you like an adolescent.

“Are you five?”

“Hey, cut me some slack. I’m six, actually,” he teased, wiggling his pinky at you as he silently urged you to follow through with it. Heaving a sigh, you latched your finger with his.

After following Heeseung down the dingy staircase, you were met with a similar sight. A large racing track encompassed the room, looping and curving in a way that filled the space. However, unlike the track you saw upstairs, this one was occupied by cars you’ve seen in racing movies. A deafening rush of cars drove past, sending a gust of wind your way.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, staring at the cars drive uncomfortably close to one another as they made another harsh turn.

Heeseung smiled at your awed expression, a sense of pride blooming in his chest. “Well,” he exhaled, “this is my secret.”

You turned to him quickly in disbelief. “You race?” As surprising as it might’ve been, the longer you thought about it, the more it made sense. Maybe it’d be hard to believe that the Heeseung in front of you was a racer, but the one from last night? With his dark demeanour and fancy car, you’d believe it in a heartbeat.

“Only on my work breaks,” he winked. “I’ve been coming here for years. This is where loads of the street racers in town come to get their fix when there are no races going on up top.”

“Street racers?” you echoed. “Like… the illegal ones?”

“Totally like… the illegal ones.”

You slapped his shoulder at his remark, bristling as you turned away. Heeseung only laughed, a loud laugh that stemmed from his tummy as he threw his head back at your displeasure. Ruffling your hair, he walked away, leaving you standing at the bottom of the staircase. You sputtered, moving to follow him, but before you could take another step, a man blocked your view of him.

“You must be Heeseung’s girl.”

You frowned at the assumption, even if it was technically true. “What on earth are you talking about?” you combatted, looking over the man with disdain.

He threw his arms up in surrender, silently telling you he meant no harm. “Relax! I just assumed because Heeseung has never brought anyone down here before.” He paused for a moment before smiling at you with a glint in his eye. “But you were also holding hands just now, so…”

Your face flushed at the prospect of getting caught. “Shut it. Who are you, anyway?”

The man’s smile widened into a grin, showing off his pearly whites. “I’m Jake. I run this place, so I’ve known Heeseung for forever. You, on the other hand,” he jutted a finger in your direction. “You’re a new face. Usually, newbies need clearance before coming down here, but I’ll trust Hee on this one. ‘Sides, I’ve seen you on a few posters here and there.” He whistled lowly, looking over his shoulder at the direction Heeseung left in. “I knew he was some hotshot, but I didn’t know he could actually pull someone like you.”

“Like me?”

Jake raised a brow at you, scanning your face as if you’d just insulted him to his face. “Uh, yeah? You’re a model, right? You’ve got the looks, so don’t be so bashful down here.” The sound of loud engines cut him off. The excitement seemed to burst from within him as he immediately ushered you over to some bleachers. “C’mon, they’re starting soon.”

He sat next to you as you tried to make yourself comfortable, feeling jittery from being left alone with a stranger. Not that Heeseung was any less strange to you, but it was better than being sat thigh-to-thigh with someone you’d just met.

“Purple car’s Yang Jungwon. The silver one is Park Jongseong,” he listed off to you as if you would know who either of those people were. You couldn’t help but nod along, his golden-retriever-like excitement rubbing off on you. You’ve never watched a car race in person before, nor have you ever gone to any event like it. “Green is our baby, Riki Nikimura. He just started racing a few months ago.”

As he talked, a familiar red car pulled up next to the others, revving its engine loudly as if to proclaim I’m here. “You probably know,” Jake continued. “But that one’s Heeseung.”

A whistle blew, and suddenly the four cars became blurs. It was as if you’d miss half the race if you even dared to blink. You watched, astounded, as the racers circled the track with ease, not bumping into each other a single time. 

The race was over before you knew it, four laps around the large track driven in a matter of minutes. The victor, Heeseung, erupted out of his vehicle with a large grin on his face, pulling at his cheeks in pure joy. The other racers met him on the tracks; their car doors opened as they joined together on the asphalt. 

You watched from a distance as they conversed excitedly, too far for you to make out any of their words. Beside you, Jake nudged you with his elbow. “Cool, huh?”

You breathed out, making eye contact with Heeseung as he beamed at you, sending you a wave before turning back to the other three. “Yeah,” you said simply. “Really cool.”

After Heeseung showed you the race track, you ended up seeing each other more often than you first thought you would. Turns out your father was serious about your engagement. True to his words, wedding planners met with you the day after the meeting. And the one after that. And the next.

A whole week of wedding planning sped past, and by the end of it, you were exhausted. You had one more stop on your schedule for the day, a simple cake tasting with Heeseung. You made it to the bakery first, standing outside idly on your phone as you waited for your husband-to-be to arrive. Your driver and security guard waited in the car parked nearby.

An engine revved twice, something that you’ve come to know as Heeseung’s way of greeting. When you looked up, he was already locking his car across the street, jogging across the empty road to meet you. “Hey,” he breathed, running a hand through his locks. “Sorry, I’m late. Riki’s engine was busted, and the kid doesn’t know how to fix ‘em yet. Normally we get Jay or Sunghoon to do the mechanic work, but they’re out scouting for spots.”

The mention of a possible race piqued your interest. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. “I just got here. You’re fine, Hee. Let’s head in?” He nodded, opening the bakery door for you before following you in.

The smell of fresh cake invaded your senses the second you stepped in. You closed your eyes in delight, taking in the scent blissfully. Heeseung chuckled at your antics, using his hand to guide you further into the building by the small of your back.

Before long, a head popped out from the back, a rather young-looking boy with a tall chef’s hat placed neatly atop his cotton-candy pink hair. His eyes were bright as he caught your gaze, cheeks pinkening at the sight of you. “Hi,” he greeted the both of you, dusting off leftover flour on his apron. “You must be Lee Heeseung and—” the boy turned to you, awestruck as he sputtered out your name. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” he apologized bashfully, bowing his head. “You’re just prettier in person. The magazines don’t do you justice.”

You had the gall to blush at his words, turning your head in slight embarrassment. “Thank you,” you paused to read his nametag. “Kim Sunoo. That’s very sweet of you.”

If possible, he turned redder at the sound of his name coming from your cherry lips. Beside you, Heeseung watched the interaction with displeasure soaking into his skin. “We’re here to taste your cakes,” he cut in before Sunoo could say another word, knocking him out of his reverie. “For our wedding.” If Sunoo noticed that Heeseung had stressed the last word, he didn’t say anything. You nudged him gently, telling him with your eyes to behave. 

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his lips together.

The two of you followed Sunoo to the back, where an assortment of cake slices were laid on the counter. Your eyes bulged at the sight, counting over twenty cakes. “Your wedding planners gave me a list of what flavours you both had mentioned wanting,” Sunoo introduced, gesturing to the cakes with a wave. “There were… quite a few between the both of you, but luckily some overlapped.”

A few seemed to be an understatement. Heeseung looked over the variety of cakes before pointing at one. “Is this one strawberry?” he asked, inspecting it closely. You hovered by his side, gazing down at the many plates. Sunoo nodded in confirmation, clasping his hands in front of him. “Are any of the other ones strawberry-flavoured?”

“We have a few, yes—”

“Take them away; we won’t be choosing those.”

You blinked in surprise at his firm standing, as did Sunoo, who tilted his head in confusion. The movement reminded you of a puppy, and you fought the urge to giggle at it. “But the strawberry flavours were on your profile.” 

At his words, you turned to Heeseung with a frown. “If you picked them, shouldn’t we at least try them first?” You surveyed the many strawberry cakes that Sunoo was in the process of putting away. “You obviously like them.”

Heeseung didn’t even spare you a glance. “You don’t like them.”

You stared open-mouthed at him. “How do you know I don’t like strawberries?” At your question, Heeseung finally met your gaze, only smirking at you as he rested his weight against the countertop, leaning on his palms.

“Do you really want me to get into that story here, princess?” You frowned in confusion. However, when you looked over at Sunoo, it seemed as though a light bulb had gone off for him, as his face became redder than the strawberries on the cake he was holding. A second passed before realization dawned on you, and you refrained from smacking Heeseung upside the head.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, ignoring the heat pooling in your tummy. “Let’s just taste these cakes and go home.”

Heeseung chortled, not even minding the fact that he may have left a rather lewd image in the younger man’s mind. “Whatever you say.”

After the first hiccup, the cake tasting went smoothly. You and Heeseung had finally decided on a cake with multiple tiers, allowing for multiple flavours. All of the bigwigs will be invited, Heeseung argued. Might as well appease them all.

A long hour had passed before the final order was set, and Sunoo told you to come by a couple weeks before the wedding to finalize the cake. Before you left, Sunoo came up to you, notepad in hand. “Sorry to bother you,” he spoke lowly, looking at you with a pretty smile. “Could I get your autograph?”

You agreed wordlessly, taking the pen from his outstretched hand. After signing it, Sunoo didn’t even give you the option of returning the pen on your own, instead taking your hand in his fondly. “I did mean it,” he said with sincerity dripping from his honey voice. “You really are prettier in person.”

You didn’t get to reply before Sunoo’s hand was slapped away. Heeseung’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, bringing you close to his side as he stared daggers at the baker. “Might I remind you that the woman you’re talking to will be my wife?” He spoke firmly, leaving no room for questions as he turned, dragging you out of the bakery. Your driver and security guard were long gone, having left at Heeseung’s promise to bring you home. 

“What was that?” You asked in disbelief, glancing over your shoulder in time to watch Sunoo disappear in the back. “He’s just a fan, Heeseung.”

He said nothing, opening the door for you before promptly slamming it once you were situated. You flinched at the aggression, eyes trained on the man as he made his way into the driver’s seat. He started the engine silently, the keys jingling as they hung from the ignition. His left hand wrapped around the steering wheel, but he made no motion to pull away from the curb.

Instead, he leaned over the middle console and pulled you closer by the chin, three fingers gripping you tightly. You gasped at the sudden forceful movement, staring widely into his dark eyes. You felt his breath tickle your skin as he stared at you, eyes fixated on you as if you’d disappear if he looked away.

“You’re driving me mad,” he uttered, lips just barely brushing over yours as he spoke. He had his lip ring in today, and you shivered at the feeling. “Ever since that night, you’ve been on my mind. And it’s driving me insane because I can’t do anything about it,” he hushed, his tone torturous as he bore into you.

“When I walked into your father’s office last week, you have no idea how happy it made me knowing that you were going to be mine,” he hissed, fingers digging into your skin almost uncomfortably. “You’re mine, and yet you’re here entertaining other men that shouldn’t even matter to you.”

“Heeseung,” you mumbled breathlessly, eyes darting down to his plump lips. He narrowed his eyes at you harshly, his normally rounded eyes growing sharper as irritation swirled in his dark hues. 

“You’re mine, princess,” he rasped, leaning forward. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss, his body moving fervently against yours to convey his turmoil. You moaned loudly when he bit down on your lower lip, his tongue licking into your mouth as he kept his hold on you. Unlike his other kisses, this one was messy. Your teeth clashed as he shifted closer, spit dribbling down your chin and onto your pressed clothing. 

The hand that gripped your chin moved to wrap around your neck. He didn’t press down, but the heat that surrounded you sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take you home,” he almost begged, moving to bite at your ear. “Wanna show you who you belong to.”

You whimpered at his words, pressing your thighs together fruitlessly. “My apartment’s closer,” you gasped when he bit down on your jugular, his hot tongue shooting out to lick at the teeth marks. “Go there, please.”

The ride passed by in a blur, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself pressed against another elevator wall. It was hard to contain your moans as Heeseung made his way down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was available to him. He fisted your breasts through the fabric, eliciting a lewd groan from you. 

“Such a whore,” he jeered against your lips as he kissed you again. “Letting me touch you like this, undress you like this. You probably want to get caught, don’t you?” He groaned, grinding his growing hard-on against you through your clothes. You let out a noise at how hard he’d gotten, your mind swirling as continued to press himself against you. “Fuck, baby. You’re driving me crazy,” he sucked your earlobe, the sensation making you squirm.

When the elevator dinged, Heeseung made haste, tugging you into your apartment after fumbling with your keys. The door slammed behind you, and you felt the cool touch of wood against your back as he pressed you against it. He wasted no time kissing you deeply, hands roaming your sides as he pushed your shirt off completely. Your bra followed soon after, his expert hands unclasping it with ease. You barely caught sight of it being thrown haphazardly across the hall in a haze.

He tugged down your pants after popping the button, shoving them down your legs unceremoniously. You whined into his mouth, tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Letting go of your lips, he pulled the shirt over his head before coming back for more. You could get addicted to the way he kissed you, needy and full of desire. His lip ring pressed against your skin, the contrast making you sigh.

“Jump,” he mumbled against your lips before claiming them as his own once more. With ease, he hoisted your legs around his slim waist, pressing you harder against the door as he ground into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling of his clothed dick, your thin panties doing little to mask the sensation. You briefly wondered if your neighbours could hear you, but the thought left as soon as it came when Heeseung cupped your breasts roughly. “You remember the safe words?”

You nodded impatiently, moving your hips against his desperately. “Yes! Please, just fuck me,” you begged, trying and failing to feel more of him. Your hands dragged down his toned front, grasping onto his warmth like a parasite.

“Where’s your bedroom,” he asked, pulling away to look you in the eye. His bare chest heaved, his skin turning pink. The sight of Heeseung’s bruising lips and glossy eyes had you falling apart in his arms as you directed him to your bedroom.

You were less-than-gracefully dropped onto your mattress as Heeseung stood over you, unbuckling his belt. The light from the hallway illuminated him, casting a glow around his figure. His eyes never left your body, eyes roaming up and down as he rid himself of his trousers. You trained your sight on his bulge, his boxers doing little to hide his length.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, climbing over you slowly. “Mine. Your smile is mine. Your laugh is mine.” He cupped your boobs, circling your nipples with calloused thumbs as he watched you carefully. “These are mine.” Heeseung leaned forward, pressing his clothed cock against your cunt. “Fuck—this pussy’s mine too, yeah? You were made for me, all mine.”

You could only nod, not trusting your own voice, as he moved to pull your panties off. You whined when you felt the fabric stick to your folds, your slick acting like glue. Heeseung balled up the fabric, unceremoniously shoving it in your mouth. You whined, the noise coming out muffled as Heeseung pulled off his boxers, revealing his hard dick.

“You don’t need to talk,” he growled, leaning down to bite at your neck. “Clearly, you’re just a stupid bitch who doesn’t know when she should speak. Why else would you let that fuck flirt with you in front of me, huh?”

You shook your head adamantly, attempting to speak through your cum soaked panties. 

“You think he knows that you’re laying here, spread out for me like this? Do you think he knows just how fucking wet you are for me?” He slapped your cunt as he spoke, causing you to jump. A sick look of pride took over his features at the sight of your glassy eyes, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. He dragged two fingers up your cunt from your weeping entrance up to your puffy clit. 

“Shit,” he groaned at the touch. “Gonna make you mine. Gonna fill you with my cum, so everyone knows, yeah?” Using your slick as lube, he rubbed his shaft slowly, never taking his eyes off you. You lifted your hips off the bed, wanting nothing more than for him to rail you, but he was quick to push your body down, his large palm pressing against your tummy firmly.

You cried out as best you could when he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, collecting your juices as he fucked against your clit. He pressed the fat tip into your entrance, the familiar burn causing your eyes to roll back. He groaned lowly as he pressed himself into you, heaving when his hips met yours.

He watched as his cock slipped in and out of your clenched hole with ease, your heat sucking him in. Pushing your legs up against your chest, Heeseung steadied himself on his knees as he buried himself in your pussy. “Fuck,” he drawled out, his head thrown back in pleasure. Your eyes trailed down his neck, his Adam’s apple jutting out deliciously as he swallowed. 

Pushing down on the back of your thighs, pressing your legs almost uncomfortably against your body, he moved with the same passion he used to kiss you in the car. You almost screamed, biting down on your soaked panties as he drilled into you. The sound of your wetness slipping against his cock was obscene, but God did Heeseung love it. He moved faster and faster, pistoling into you with an unrivalled enthusiasm.

Releasing one of your legs, he reached down to circle your clit, making you jolt up from the bed. You threw your head back, loud cries escaping your throat even through your improvised gag. “So fucking good for me,” Heeseung groaned, draping his body over you as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck. His pace never faltered, strong and hard thrusts pushing your body up the bed. “Fuck—! This fucking pussy was made for me.”

Without warning, he pulled your panties out of your mouth, now dripping with saliva. He dropped them somewhere on the bed, his hips slamming against yours as he kissed you. You moaned into the kiss, hands grabbing blindly at his back. “H-Heeseung!” You cried, burying your face into your comforter as hot tears burned the corners of your eyes.

“Come on,” he hushed, pressing against your clit faster. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you cream around my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you?” You blabbered out nonsense, unable to make any coherent words as his hardness dragged along your gummy walls. You could feel the rope in your stomach tightening as his thrust became more desperate. His rhythm stayed constant, even as the back of his thighs burned and his cock twitched.

“F—uck,” he almost sobbed, his voice breaking as he fucked into you ruthlessly. “God, baby, feel so fucking good. Gonna cum inside, yeah?” His voice echoed in your ear, leaving goosebumps on your skin. You couldn’t tell if you were nodding or shaking your head to his words, your mind a mess, as all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock. “You’re gonna take it for me—shit—take it all. Don’t want any of it coming out.”

You felt something snap as you arched your back, your orgasm washing over you in brutal waves, like a tsunami crashing against your body over and over. You sobbed as Heeseung kept moving, never relenting in his pace as he chased his own release. His fingers kept circling your clit, even with your feeble attempts to push them away. “Heeseung,” you cried as overstimulation racked your body.

Heeseung swore under his breath, kissing you gently, contrasting his harsh thrusts. “I know, baby,” he sighed, sweat rolling down his face as he pecked your lips. “Just a bit longer for me, shit, you’re taking me so well.” He moaned loudly as he neared, gripping your hips tightly as he plunged into you.

He bit your shoulder as he came, ropes of thick cum painting your walls white. His hips stuttered, a quiet fuck, fuck, fuck spoken into your shoulder. Heeseung didn’t stop thrusting into you gently until his orgasm faded away, pressing his softening cock deeper into you. You could feel his cum seeping out of you, soft whimpers rumbling in your throat at the feeling.

His breath was heavy as he all but collapsed on you, using what little strength he had to hold himself up so he didn’t crush you. He left gentle kisses on the marks on your neck, making you shiver in sensitivity. He pressed a lingering peck against your lips before leaning back slightly to look you in the eye.

Heeseung shifted to move a stray hair out of your face, and you couldn’t help but melt at the way he was rubbing circles on your hip. Leaning up, your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him, wrapping tired arms around his nape as you brought his body flush against yours. The movement made him accidentally press against your clit, and the both of you moaned into the kiss. You swiped your tongue over his lip ring, sucking it into your mouth as you moved your hips slowly.

“You’re insatiable,” he mumbled against your lips. Despite his words, he felt himself grow hard when he glanced down at your shifting hips and the ring of white around his shaft. 

“You love it,” you countered, holding him against your body tighter.

He scoffed, pressing a kiss against your forehead before rolling you over so that you were sitting on his lap, dick still inside. You squeaked when he took your hips and rolled you back and forth over his cock, your cunt still sensitive. “No more running away,” he rasped as he fucked up into you slowly.

You leaned down to kiss him once more in silent agreement.

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[gothy-froggy]

Astarion Headcanons

Fluff dating headcanons

This man deserves it. Astarion x Gn! Reader

(Bg3 Astarion spoilers?) + not proofread

As we know that Astarion is not used to this kind of treatment or care. For 200 years he used his body to lure people for his master. And was treated poorly on top of that. This is something he isn’t used to.

Small physical touch

A simple squeeze of the arm, putting a hand over his, Astarion craves for it.

They’re so simple, yet, holds so much meaning.

Such pure and innocent intentions behind them. Intimate, not sexually. Just so much emotion and such a strong connection from a simple touch.

He likes it.

Even a simple, quick or a lingering kiss is just so nice. Astarion has kissed, slept, and held many, but not like this. It’s quite exciting.

The feeling of his beloved’s finger softly running through his hair got a sigh of content out of Astarion. His eyes fluttered closed. The way the their fingers goes through his curls, barely scratching his scalp. It was peaceful.

This was peaceful.

“Star.” They whispered. Astarion opened his eyes. He sat up from laying on their lap, facing his partner. A shaky breath aired out as his eyes shut as they placed their hands on his cheeks, brushing along his jawline. No words were exchanged. None had to.

Their feelings, thoughts, and love for each other were so loud despite not one opened one’s mouth.

No words could describe how much they cared for another.

Astarion grew to return such acts with the intention and his feelings being present. It was difficult at first. It was…odd for him. It was either awkward in his mind, or the spiral to disgust and the feeling of tainted leaking through the cracks of his heart and mind, perhaps his soul at well.

But the reassurance from his lover always pulled him back.

Nicknames

The nickname given to him? Star. It was definitely a shock to him hearing that as his nickname. He can’t help but be a little flustered.

He loves it. Astarion would live for it. Astarion loved it even more once he figured out the reason why his lover calls him Star.

Of course, he calls his dear, love, treasure, other sweet pet names, but the one his love gave him doesn’t seem to be defeated.

The night was chilling as the stars twinkled, dancing in the moonlight. Astarion sat on a big rock with his lover. Their gaze focused on the balls of light in the dark sky. Astarion’s was locked onto them.

“Do tell, my dear. Why ‘Star’ as my nickname?” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Their eyes meets his, a small, gentle smile appearing on their face.

“Your name has star in it. A-s-t-a-r-i-o-n. Stars twinkle, they’re beautiful , like you.” Astarion let out a huff. Perhaps a small scoff.

“Well, I am beautiful.” A charming smile plastered over his face. His lover laughed, placing a hand over his as they leaned forward.

“You’re my star.” They whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Astarion paused, processing their words and the simple touches.

“You really are full of surprises.” Astarion whispered.

‘Their Star.’ He thought. It brought swirls of warmth inside his chest

Astarion’s love for the pet name Star becomes addictive. He gets slightly annoyed and disappointed when his partner doesn’t call him Star.

Hell, his treasure could even make him beg to be called Star if they wanted to.

It honestly irritates him how much he enjoys the silly little pet name. They really don’t hold much value or worth anything…or is that him and enslavement to Casador for centuries?

Nether the less, his love is here to show him what real is. What true love really is.

Perhaps the pet name is a spark of light for him.

His comfort (lover’s scent and warmth)

Nothing is more precious than holding someone with such passion. True passion.

Astarion struggled most on this. Surprising as it is, but the comfort involves holding someone. Being so close to their body with trust, letting your guard down,

But getting comfortable with having comfort is the most troublesome.

The fear of it being taken away becomes dread.

His nightmares are over, but they still plague his mind, making it hard to break through and open up. After a while, he did. He regrets not being able to break through before.

Whether it was a nightmare, or the utter crave of affection and his comfort, he always gets it. Astarion creeps into the tent, sliding an arm under his love’s, wrapped around their waist and pulling them close.

He presses his face into their neck, taking a slow and small sniff. Just smelling their scent, not just their blood, brought so much warmth and comfort. The warmth, the feeling of their body made all his stress move away. Astarion smiled to himself, pressing a lingering kiss on his lover’s shoulder, before whispering:

“Wherever you go, wherever you are..” Astarion paused, hesitant to continue as the fear and feeling of disgust creeps back in. Trying to pull him back to what he knows. Yet he fights it. The arm around their waist caused a small squeeze as he took a shaky breath before continuing.

“Is forever my home.” He whispered, forcing them out and choking over his words out.

“You are my true home.”

Maybe, just maybe, the fight for something new is worth it.

[sunshineandspencer]

Jogging

A/N: I’ve discovered that I, actually, despise angst. I hate reading it and I hate writing it, unless specifically asked for, my brain thinks only happy thoughts. On an unrelated note, I’m also a very emotional person and perhaps angst sets off my severe second-hand embarrassment and I’ve never finished an angst fic. So, from that unrelated note, have a finished fluffy fic :) 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Aaron is incredibly attractive at the best of times, but put him in sports gear and it’s like flies to honey. Which is an excellent cultivator of jealousy for his jogging partner, until she overhears him talking to another woman.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kind of established relationship (you’ll see)

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

Going for a morning run with her more-than-a-friend-but-not-quite-labelled man, was fun. Aaron taught her some proper techniques, and she got a kiss whenever they completed a lap.

There is an issue, unfortunately, and it’s one she’s desperately trying not to blow out of proportion.

Aaron is attractive, devastatingly so, and because he occasionally runs ahead to finish a lap and wait for her to arrive so that he can greet her with a kiss, people don’t always know that they’re out together. Added with him in those damn workout clothes - that she would burn if she weren’t mentally stable - it’s no surprise to her anymore to see women jogging up to him.

They’re almost always gone by the time she makes it over to Aaron, who kisses her and immediately moves on to their next lap. She tries hard not to let the clawing jealousy show.

Due to JAck, and both of them agreeing not to move too quickly so that they don’t confuse him, they’d just decided on not labelling anything yet. So she isn’t really anything official to him, and can’t do all the things her jealous mind screams at her to do.

Like today, for example, Aaron had pressed a kiss to her cheek and sped up to get to the end of their lap. 

The minute he’s not beside another woman, someone else runs up to him.

She hears the fading introduction of “hi, I’m Beth, I see you around here pretty often” and her stomach clenches.

Once again, her pretty, not-boyfriend is getting hit on by a woman who can actually keep his pace. She hates it, and hates the burning hole in her chest even more.

Deciding, this time, she would actually speed up and join the conversation. Which will ultimately be worth the burst lungs and exertion-flushed face. Until she turns the corner and sees them still talking, any semblance of confidence withers.

When she hears her name on his lips, however, she dives behind the nearest tree. Realising he just gestured to where she should be coming from, and hoping neither of them had seen her practically rush for cover to avoid being seen. Pressing her back to the bark of the tree and listening closely to the conversation.

“-out with my girlfriend, actually, we run together.”

If she weren’t hiding behind a tree, from a random woman and the man that just called her his girlfriend, she’d be doing a happy dance by now. Choosing to press her hands to her chest as the burning hole closed up, victoriously grinning as ‘Beth’ jogged on feeling pretty dejected.

Once sure that Beth was gone, she turned to place her hands on the tree, bracing herself to look around it to try and spot Aaron, that daft smile still on her face. But he wasn’t there, and that observation came with a pair of hands landing on her hips and making her jump and spin around. Meeting Aaron’s smug grin as he gently pinned her to the tree by her hips.

“Are you spying on me now?”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she started looking all around them - as if searching for someone, and that only made his stupid grin wider.

“Should be careful Hotchner, wouldn’t want that girlfriend you mentioned to catch you pinning a girl to a tree.”

“Oh?” Knowing she’d heard, he now has no plans to try and keep up the facade that he hasn’t wanted her, officially, for weeks now. “And do you think she’d be upset if I kissed the woman I pinned to a tree?”

Giving a dramatic gasp, she used it to breathe in fully to answer, realising that her lungs aren’t really cooperating with her right now. And he used that as his chance to lean down to kiss her, loving the sparky feeling he gets from her every time. Siling against her lips as she melted against him.

Pulling back with a soft nip to her lips that had her chasing after him. Before realising what she was doing and resting back against the tree, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

“I think she’d definitely hate the thought of you doing that to anyone else.”

“Ah, so she gets jealous?”

As if she were caught out, her eyes darted away from his as she pouted - from a profiling perspective, she really does have cute tells when she’s been caught - tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“She pleads the fifth.”

Thankfully, as she knows he actually loves any jokes that relate to his time as a lawyer, he laughs, leaning down to kiss her again, hand trailing away from her hip to lace their fingers together. Pulling back with a soft hum and another soft peck.

Swiping his thumb across her knuckles as he waited for her to open her eyes again, loving the little flush speckled across her features that obscured her freckles.

“Will she forgive me if I take her to get ice cream?”

“Definitely.”

Tugging her away from the tree, he brushes the flakes of bark from her hair and clothes, spending a little too much time ‘brushing off’ whatever was on her ass, until she smacks his hand away with a laugh. Leading the two of them back towards the car, deliberating what kind of ice cream ‘his girlfriend’ would like the most.

But as they get in, he gives her another smile and laces their hands over the centre console.

“You do know I’m calling you my girlfriend, right?”

Shaking her head, she leant in to kiss him again, pulling away to pat his cheek lightly. 

“Didn’t need to be a profiler for that one, love.”

“Oh, so you’re a profiler now?”

“Best watch it, I’m coming for your job next.

Laughing, he lets go of her hand to start up the car, already knowing exactly which ice cream place they were going to - and exactly what she would order. Not that she’s predictable in the slightest, but she always orders the exact same thing.

“First my heart, now my job? At this rate you’ll have my house by the end of the week.”

“That’s the plan!”

He’s going to marry this goddamn woman.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides ║ @peachsodameg ║ @angelinajolie0213 ║ @jiggly-puff-12 ║ @khxna ║ @kennedy2156 ║ @trulycayla ║ @none-of-your-bullshit ║ @alexxavicry ║ @meg-black ║ @princess76179 ║ @chicken-fifi ║ @averyhotchner ║ @punkyghoulz ║ @anotherpassiongirl ║ @princessjax ║ @gghostwriter ║ @pear-1206 ║ @justyourusualash (if your tag is here and not working check out this reblog to see if any of it could hopefully help!!)

[cassie48]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗵𝗱𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗳𝗲

Dark! Paul Atreides x fem crybaby!Reader

Where in the midst of a crowd, you, the Mahdis wife, get shoved by accident, and Paul isn’t so happy about that.

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ට

Paul usually didn’t let you out of his sight, he knew better. It always ended up badly, someone would hurt you, or hurt your feelings, and you’d cry. Like you always did.

But you had 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 him to go for a walk with your friends. Fremen friends that you had known longer than you’d known him. He had only met you two years ago. But once he met you, he claimed he’s had visions of your pretty face, standing in the desert, smiling at him with your gorgeous smile.

He claimed you were to be 𝘏𝘪𝘴. So he married you mere days after you’d met. Stilgar having no problems with it as apparently it was in the prophecy, also known as Stilgars obsession.

You wanted to marry him though, you felt connected to him. There’s wasn’t many people that had put up with your emotional personality, but oh how he 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 it. He loved seeing tears in your eyes as you’d cling to him, burying your small face in his chest, how minor things he’d do for you made you emotional, and most of all how you relied on him to make you feel better.

So that’s why you barely went anywhere without him, it was really just easier for everyone. All the Fremen held huge respect for you as you were the wife of their messiah. No one 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 to merely touch you.

So on this particular day, you had begged your husband to let you go with your friends for a few hours. Inside the ancient temple of your sietch, all your people would gather and celebrate. It was an annual day. Celebrating your cultures and beliefs.

Crowds would gather and people would mingle, meeting and seeing friends. It was just an all round fun day. But this one wasn’t.

It had started off quite well. Paul allowed you to meet your friends for an hour or so, making you promise you’d meet him at home later on. You gladly did, kissing his cheek and leaving to see your friends.

Once you did, you and your friends gathered talking and dancing for what felt like forever. After a while you knew you probably should leave to meet your husband.

Paul had joined the celebrations, as he was their mahdi. He had been watching you for a while, making sure you were alright. When he saw you making your way through the crowds he began to walk too, so he’d meet you halfway.

The crowds were pushy, 𝘛𝘰𝘰 pushy for you clearly, as you took a step but we’re roughly shoved by a man on your right. You went flying face first onto the ground, hitting your head when your did.

The man turned to yell at you

“Watch it you- Oh my lady, I-I apologise deeply!” He yelled, not realising it was you. He was a dead man and he knew it.

Mad if he wasn’t already 6 foot under from his actions, to top it off completely, you began to cry, actually you began to ball your eyes out.

The entire sietch became quiet. Many around you quickly tried to help you up, but you were having none of it, and if anything it made you cry harder. The man that knocked you began to shake in fear as he saw Paul make his way to the scene.

The people had never seen their Mahdi with such a hateful and raged look. He shoved passed people in the cowds to get to you. Once he did he bent down to your bleeding face, wiping your blood and tears before picking you up in his arms, giving one last glance to the man that had caused your accident.

“Make sure he waits outside my tent” he growled to three Fremen on his left, before swiftly turning and leaving with you in his arms.

You cried the entire way back to your tent, clinging onto your husband as your face stung. Once you two arrived, he put you into bed, sitting down beside your lying form.

“You must stop crying my love, it’s alright now” Paul said kissing your forehead gently, wiping stray tears on your cheeks.

“Don’t waste them” he muttered.

You did as he said, but still slight hiccups every few minutes remains. “My head hurts” you whispered with an unhappy look on your face.

“This is why I don’t like you out of my reach” he told you, tucking you under the sheets.

“I know Paul, I’m sorry” she said holding back tears at the thoughts of upsetting him.

He smiled at you tenderly, before giving you a gentle kiss, and letting you fall asleep in bed.

He angrily turned towards the tents exit. He took the man waiting outside fearfully in his arms, dragging him away from your sleeping form.

Once he was out of hearing distance from you, Paul shoved the man onto the ground. Taking out a knife, and placing it at his neck.

“How dare you harm hug wife” Paul yelled.

“Mahdi I- it was an accident!” He said almost crying.

“It don’t care. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦, harms her, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.” He yelled, before yanking the knife away from his neck, giving him a tiny knife before plunging the knife into the man’s side, and getting up and walking back to you.

Many Fremen watched, not daring to say anything. They knew better. They knew what he was like when it came to you.

Paul made his way back to your drowsy form, half asleep in your bed. “Paul you whispered” with a pouty look.

He got into the bed beside you, taking you into his strong hold, kissing your neck. “Sleep now sweetheart” he told you, and of course, you complied.

⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼ��⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ට

Just wanted to write something small, I know it’s not much ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

[elexaria]

we all know johnny would happily let simon fuck his girl bc they’re best friends, but when simon finally settles down, he’s a little hesitant.

simon is a man whore, he enjoys being balls deep in a pretty thing, mindlessly feeling each pulse of the ridged warmth that sucks his dick in so nicely. his eyes can white over, blood rushing to his face because he’s got a bad habit of holding his breath when he’s having sex.

but when he meets someone who he actually cares about, someone who’s more than a nice face and a pretty pair of legs— he feels drawn to them. he’s… whipped. before, he wouldn’t really mind sleeping around behind people’s backs— hey, it’s not a real commitment, it’s only fucking! but when he really finds himself stuck on that someone, he begins going out less and less— he’s actually committing.

and it SHOCKS johnny. “whit d’ye mean yer not goin oot?” he whines, eyebrows furrowed as he watches simon relax in the rec room, feet propped up on the coffee table as he enjoys the man u match. “am bringin’ ma wee lass out, ye can even bring—“ johnny’s cut off by simon glaring at him, a look that reads ‘drop it, i’m not interested’

it’s not the same when johnny goes out by himself, no sleezy simon by his side! and simon BITES when johnny proposes a foursome between the four of you, your cheeks bright red. he starts going off on one, about how he doesn’t want to do that shit anymore— it’s gay, blah blah blah. and johnny’s all like ?? “its nawt gay ye stupid eejit, its no like we’re shaggin each other! yer just pussy whipped!”

and then johnny goes through a breakup— it’s like the world comes crashing down. he’s moping around, melting into the rec room couch with a decrepit look as he holds his second beer of the night, not amused even in the slightest when you and simon try and get him to smile :( but he soon perks up when you’re on your hands and knees between his legs, one hand cupping the shaft of his aching cock, while your tongue dances and traverses each vein and pulse point. he almost cums right then and there when you tease his slit, his honey coloured eyes twinkling with restraint. “just this once.” simon grumbles, kneeling behind you as he teases your dripping wet cunt with the pads of his calloused fingertips, his other hand rubbing through his boxers to tease his erection :((

“just this once” he says, but simon gets fed up of johnny pulling the “am heartbroken, simon! :(“ and accepts that it’s more fun fucking a girl when its with ur bestie <3

[suntoru]

─ ✰ WHIPPED 4 U!

─ SYNOPSIS: gojo satoru's a whiny baby when it comes to you.

─ WARNINGS: pure fluff, kissing, whiny gojo, suggestive at the end but not smut, cat being gojo's biggest hater

─ AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is canon GIGGLES I HOPE U LIKE IT!! cool people reblog n comment if u did &lt;3

you're wholeheartedly convinced that gojo satoru, without a doubt, is the embodiment of a five-year-old child trapped in the towering physique of a grown man. "babeeeeeee..." he melodically whines, storming into the room with a cascade of faux tears threatening to spill from his mesmerizing teal orbs, each blink carrying the weight of dramatic distress. in a display of sheer drama, he clutches his finger as if it's a dire injury, letting out exaggerated sighs that could rival the most skilled actors.

his 6'3 frame drapes itself dramatically into your arms, and if you didn't know any better, you'd swear he's reenacting a tragic scene where his body had been sliced in two. (haha get it i'm sorry please don't come for me) theatrical whimpers escape him, each one carefully crafted to tug at your heartstrings, and he lifts his pointer finger, presenting it to you with the utmost flair. it's a spectacle that could put any tantrum-throwing toddler to shame, yet in the midst of it all, there's an undeniable charm to the childish antics of gojo satoru.

"milkis scratched me," he huffs, his gaze a glaring accusation directed at the unbothered pearly white cat adorned with a delicate satin pink bow. the feline culprit merely licks its paw, an image of serene innocence, blinking up at you with adoration as it meows and gracefully rubs against your leg. "see? a demon." he declares, shoving his wounded digit in front of your face, revealing a tiny cut barely grazing his skin.

you respond with a nonchalant sigh, seemingly unimpressed by the ordeal. gojo, however, wears a visible frown, his hands finding their way to your face as he squishes your cheeks with playful exasperation.

"so ya don't love me anymore." he pouts, his lips forming an exaggerated puppy dog expression, his wide, pleading eyes boring into yours. "you're choosing him over me??" a soft giggle escapes you, a teasing melody that only deepens the lines of his pout. in retaliation, you playfully flick his forehead, and he lets out a broken whine, nuzzling his face into the comforting crook of your neck.

"meanie." he murmurs against your skin, his voice muffled by the closeness. you playfully ruffle his hair, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. deciding to indulge him in this lighthearted moment, you gently grip his chin, lifting it to meet your gaze. cooing as if he were a child, a teasing glint sparkling in your eyes as you play along.

"aww... my precious baby... whatever shall we do?" he willingly sinks into the warmth of your palm, lifting his injured finger for emphasis.

"kiss." he pleads, his bottom lip jutting out in a display of drama. obliging, you lean in, planting a sweet peck on his finger, accompanied by a playful 'mwah!' his initial pout falters slightly, basking in the attention you're graciously bestowing upon him. "better?" you ask, tilting your head, a playful smile lingering on your lips. but gojo has more demands, pointing to his forehead with a childlike innocence. without hesitation, you plant your plush lips right where he's pointing, barely holding back a giggle at the adorable display.

"you forgot here." he points to his cheek, and you humor him once again, planting a smooch on the designated spot. "my nose needs loving too." he whines, and with an eye roll, you indulge him, giving his nose the attention it apparently craves. "i think i need one more to be all better." he declares, this time pointing to his lips. his eyes close, anticipation written across his face as he puckers up, awaiting the sensation of your mouth against his.

"you're so greedy, 'toru." you complain, yet you succumb to his wishes, wrapping your arms around his neck. standing on your tippy toes, you feel his hands snake around your waist lovingly as you deliver the requested kiss on his lips.

his are buttery soft, radiating pure unadulterated warmth as gojo smiles against your own. the kiss is a gentle exchange, soft, sweet, and wrapped in an aura of innocence that makes you reluctant to pull away. after what feels like an eternity of shared breaths and lingering closeness, he eventually releases you, both of you left breathless and slightly dazed.

"s-satisfied?" you huff, your cheeks now tinted a rosy pink. with that signature mischievous glint in his eyes, he grins, and you can feel something twitch in his grey sweatpants. "if you're handin' out free kisses, i can think of something that needs a little lovin'."

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[mrchiipchrome]

Te Amo

W.C. - 2.7 k

a/n: alexia is genuinely so grrr I can't even.

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A night on the town was all you needed after a long day of flying, packing up your stuff and trying to settle into the city you now had to call home. Moving from North Carolina to Barcelona wasn’t something you were expecting to do, but when the biggest club in the world came calling, you answered.

Seeing as you were one of the best midfield coaches in the world at only 29 years of age, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Barça had come calling, wanting to make their midfield even stronger than it already was.

Paying the taxi man substantially more than you probably should have, you were already a bit buzzed from pregaming, that mixed with your extremely limited knowledge of the Spanish language left you to overpay for the cab and look at the bouncer all confused when he spoke rapidly. 

Finally settling at the bar, you order some drink you’ve never heard of in your life, looking around at the faces of the people closest to you, it doesn’t take long for you to spot the hottest girl you’ve probably ever seen staring at you from across the bar, the woman bringing her hand up to wave at you. Waving back, you get your drink within minutes, leaving you to sip at the strong alcohol and feel the buzz quickly returning to your body, all warm inside from the heat inside the building and from the alcohol coursing through your system.

Looking around the room, you don’t notice the almost familiar woman continuing to study you, looking at your features intensely, the casual smile on your face doing something to her.

The glass in your hand is soon empty and after another one, you’re positively drunk as fuck, so drunk in fact that the hand sticking out for you to take almost goes unnoticed.

The smile on the pretty girl’s face is seductive and you get lost in her gorgeous hazel eyes as soon as you look into them, the flush to her cheeks suggesting she’s as intoxicated as you, if not more. Either way it didn’t matter, looking up at her expectantly as if you’re telling her to actually make a move.

“Vamos.” She nods her head towards the dance floor, ‘what’s the worst that can happen’ you think to yourself as you take her hand and let her pull you along to the dance floor. She was familiar, you just couldn’t place where you’d seen her before, but you knew that you’d seen her before somehow, somewhere.

Her hands land on your waist, pulling your body close to hers, too close for two people who had just met. Spanish women had a lot more confidence than you would have thought, not that you minded for even a second.

The thumping music changes, a sensual song coming on for everyone wanting to grind on someone, the woman’s front pressed tightly to your own as she starts to sway you both around, moving her hips in a way that had you enchanted. Her hands slide up your body, touching every curve and dip hidden beneath the dress shirt, fingers soon finding their way to the back of your neck and the hair at the base of your head.

Now it’s your turn to put your hands on her waist, your bodies moving as one to the song blasting through the speakers, her lips meeting your neck as her head slotted into the space between your neck and shoulder. It’s a bit ticklish but you don’t mind.

Your hands slide a bit lower, landing at the bottom of her back, just above her butt, and she hums loud enough for you to hear over the loud music blasting in the club. Her eyes meet yours just as she pulls her face away from your neck, her plump lips moving to the lyrics of the song and you’re absolutely enticed.

But then, all of a sudden, her lips stray from forming the words of the song, two words escaping that you frankly had no clue about the meaning of.

“Te amo.” Is all you can hear over the music, hands still holding her body close to yours as confusion flashes across your face, once again not knowing a lick of Spanish. As her drunken gaze takes in your expression, she seems to simply think that you couldn’t hear her, not very surprising seeing as you could barely hear your own thoughts. “Te amo.” She repeats, cheering on as the song changes, swaying her hips to the beat leaving you to try to catch up.

Thinking the girl had posed a question, you just respond with the thing you felt was the most appropriate, a simple;

“Nah.” 

Now it’s her turn to look confused, her face inching in closer to yours in order to understand better, at the same time her arms tighten around your neck, trying to keep you close to her. After a second or two she repeats herself for the third time, now just thinking you were a bit stupid or something.

“Baby I can’t understand you, you gon’ have to speak up.” Speaking your native language, the lady in your arms doesn’t seem to understand you, not surprising seeing as you were in Barcelona and not the US. She’s chest to chest with you now, her nimble fingers scratching at your head, her face close enough to your own for you to be able to smell the alcohol and something fruity on her breath.

“Baby, let up a lil’ n’ relax, I ain’t gon’ run away. Like this.” Taking her hands with your own, you slowly pull your bodies apart, pretending you don’t notice the strangled noise escaping her throat. Twirling her around a few times, you can feel the way her body relaxes under your hands, and you pull her body back to yours, dancing in sync with her.

The intense look she was giving you pulled the words you barely even understood from your mouth, your mind completely blank, the only thoughts revolving around the sexiest woman you had ever seen.

“Te amo.” You tell her, southern accent putting a cute twang on the words, a small smile pulling at the corners of her wine red lips leading to a smile of your own being produced, even if you didn’t really know what you had told her. In the back of your intoxicated mind something told you that it means something along the lines of ‘I love you’.

By now, her hands have migrated back to your neck, and in a split second decision you decide to take one of her hands in yours again, leaving her to let her hand slide downwards towards your waist. Fingers leave goosebumps in their wake on skin they don’t touch, a barrier of pent up sexual tension and fabric restrict her fingers from meeting the warm skin under your dress shirt.

Her other hand’s fingers thread with your own, her head now coming down to rest on your collar bones, the soft skin of her cheek meeting the skin of your upper chest area. Electricity courses through your veins at the contact and you almost pass out because of the pure tension between you two.

A second passes and then, out of nowhere, the brunette pulls away from your hold, the space where her hand once was now cold, her hand still in yours.

Dragging you across the dance floor, you allow the beautiful woman to take the lead once more, blindly trusting her as the door to the club comes into your line of vision. By now you’re both running, the door pushed open quickly as feet pound against the ground, and you both laugh, a hearty laugh, a drunken laugh.

No cars drive by, a perfect calm night with all the rowdy teenagers in the clubs with the tired adults looking for a quick hookup, and for once, you feel at peace. The woman holding your hand, not even looking as she crosses the street, is your peace. 

The missing piece in the puzzle that is your life.

The sand beneath your shoes sinks as you try to keep up with the hazel eyed beauty, cool breeze coming from the sea in front of you as she lets go of your hand, pulling her shirt over her head after skidding to a halt, sand flying in all directions.

You watch as more skin gets revealed, unbelievable abs, strong back muscles, muscular thighs and broad shoulders, your gay mind short circuited at the display of the absolute powerhouse of a woman she was.

In your stupor, the only thing you could think of doing was back away, get a reasonable distance before she rid herself of everything. Yet as her warm hand moves to take hold of your own again, everything you’d ever learned disappeared from the confines of your mind, blindly following her every word like she was your messiah.

“Stay, please.” Her accent was a bit wilted and peculiar, but so extremely homely that you barely knew what to do with yourself. “Relax, ey?” She repeats your words from before, nothing but pure confidence in her voice as her fingers start to pull the ends of the shirt out of the top of your pants, feeling her fingertips against the skin of your stomach.

Her hands fiddle with the buttons on your shirt for a few seconds before she decides on just ripping it off, the quicker and much better way to get it off you. Looking on in pure shock, the mystery girl pushes the now destroyed shirt off your strong shoulders with a cheeky smile covering her face, the white material landing in the pile of clothes already forming bedside you both.

Pushing your slacks down your legs, you soon throw them into the clothes pile, barely even noticing the woman moving closer and closer to you until her hands land on your waist, goosebumps now visible to the naked eye. She leans in closer to your face, using her grip on you as leverage to get higher up, her lips less than a centimeter away from your own, moving back ever so slightly as you try to connect your lips.

“Te amo.” Her raspy voice sends shivers down your spine, her lips practically speaking onto yours with how close together they were. “Dilo.” That was something you recognised, one too many summers spent with your aunt in New Orleans to not pick up some french, the Spanish language awfully similar.

“Te amo.” You respond, by now just wanting her full lips against your own, your hands on her cheeks, thumbs stroking against her cheekbones, stomach filling with butterflies full of anticipation. Her giggles fill the air, and as she runs away from you and towards the sea, you can’t help but giggle too, the absolutely absurd situation making you that much more giggly.

It doesn’t take long for your long legs to catch up with her despite her athletic build, her drunk uncoordinated body slowing her down significantly. Almost tackling her to the ground, you pick the girl up and throw her over your shoulder like she weighs nothing, running into the sea as she giggles and tells you to put her down in the limited amount of English she knows. 

“Oh I’ll put ‘cha down alright.” About knee deep in the water you stop, leaning down slightly and almost throwing her into the cold water, diving down just after her so that she couldn’t splash you, feeling the rippling water above your head.

Your head goes up above the surface just after the brunettes, and you’re treated to the sight of her pushing her hair away from her face, biceps flexing in the moonlight. Swimming towards her, she reaches out for you the second you’re close enough for her to touch, her hands not really knowing where to start, flitting all over your body barely taking the time to actually feel your skin under her fingertips.

“A’ight, you gotta keep them hands to yourself there, pretty lady. I bite.” She looks at you all innocently and you’re barely even convinced that she can understand what you’re saying. Laughing at the thought, you soon leave her behind as you start to swim, your hands gliding through the water like that's what they were made for, slowing down ever so slightly to let her play catch up. 

Your feet just barely meet the sandy bottom as she finally catches up to you, her hands threading around your neck, pulling you closer to her like she did in the packed club, only this time she actually kisses you.

Her lips feel like heaven against yours, so divine that you think you’re dreaming, for nothing on earth was so perfect like the girl in your arms was. But as her legs interlock around your waist, you’re sure that your mind couldn’t conjure up something as perfect as her, everything in you screamed yes as her tongue poked at your lips.

Gasping as her thighs squeeze around your hips, the woman practically devouring you takes the chance to slip her tongue into your mouth, exploring the entirety of your mouth with her tongue.

You both moan into the kiss, your hands coming down to rest on the backs of her thighs so that she wouldn’t fall off into the water, not that there would be any risk of that happening, with her legs gripping onto your waist for dear life.

Pulling back, she doesn’t let you go that far before her lips are on yours again, moving in such a way that draws you in even further.

‘Shit, she’s got me hooked’ is the only thing running through your mind when your hands move up her back, undoing the clasp of her bra…

—------------------

Waking up to a raging hangover, half of your new bedroom thrashed and no woman from the night before might be the top 10 most confusing ways to wake up, realizing your alarm has been beeping for the past hour though added a certain little bit of spice to the whole morning.

“Fuck, fuck, shit. I am so late.” Rushing around and putting all your clothes on, you barely notice the dark purple hickies littering your neck, definitely telling a story of how you spent your night.

The last thing you do before you leave your apartment is picking up your satchel with all your so-called ‘homework’, and then absolutely legging it out of the building.

Luckily enough for you, the training grounds were a walking distance away from your apartment building, leaving you to get there in record time.

Panting, you enter the building by flashing your employee ID to the scanner before once again legging it in search of room A221 where the first meeting of the day would be held, the meeting for you to meet all the players you were going to coach.

Bursting into the room, pants almost falling down your legs, some serious bed head, humongous purple splotches on your neck, mismatched socks and a few buttons undone, you officially looked a mess on the one day you weren’t supposed to.

Flattening down your hair subtly, you walk towards the front of the room where the head coach is looking at you funnily.

“I’m so sorry sir, my alarm didn’t go off.” He nods his head, accepting your apology before turning to the women in the room, introducing you to them all as you’re looking for something in your bag.

“Girls, this is your new midfield coach, Y/n Y/l/n.” They all nod a little half approvingly, finding the whole situation funny if anything.

“Hello everyone, I know I look a mess but just disregard that for the time being, I just wanted to say that it’ll be a pleasure working with every single one of y’all-” Finally looking up from your hands, you see the girl from last night staring right back at you, a satisfied smirk on her annoyingly pretty face.

Oh so that’s where you knew her from.

How the fuck were you going to be able to not think about recreating your perfect night together everytime you see her? Fucking up before even starting your new job had to be some sort of record. 

[benevolentbones]

jealous much? | spencer reid x reader

warnings: !! violent behaviour towards someone, bar fight, alcohol consumption and attempted drink spiking, swearing !! 15+ gender neutral reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: the team goes out to bar, and you bring a date with you..

to say spencer was mad was an understatement. his blood was practically boiling. his jaw tightened as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. his sights were set dead ahead, on your form.

after a long case the team had decided the best way to celebrate would be going out to the bar for a few drinks, garcia’s suggestion of course.

this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the team would often go out together whether it was for dinner or just drinks, but what shocked everyone was when you showed up with a date.

“this is simon, hope you don’t mind that i brought him along” you had mused, when you had arrived to meet the team at the local bar they frequented.

the taller man was probably ten years older than you, his hair was blond and slicked back, and he had an arm slinked around your waist.

the team stood around the bar, some sets of eyes flickering from you to spencer, who stood glaring at the man beside you.

it wasn’t much of a secret that spencer reid had feelings for you, he’s had a thing for you ever since you joined the team over a year ago, and as profilers it wasn’t hard for the rest of the team to pick up on his crush.

what shocked everyone was the fact that they thought you also had feelings for spencer.

“yeah- no problem, im emily nice to meet you.” the dark haired woman smiled.

“i need a drink.” spencer muttered under his breath, turning to the bartender before he said something rude.

and that brings us to right now.

the team had been in the bar for an hour or so, a few rounds of shots had been given out and the majority of the team were on the dance floor. all aside from spencer and derek.

spencer could not take his eyes off of you for the life of him, and he felt physically sick at the sight.

emily, jj and penelope were dancing along side you as they usually did, and then there was your date, simon, who was glued to your form.

spencer hated the sight, every movement and touch threatened to spill up the four beers he had downed in the hour he was there.

“you good man?” derek leant against the bar, his voice laced with concern.

spencer took another swig of his beer, breaking his eye contact on you to look morgan in the face.

“i don’t know what they see in him, he’s fucking pathetic.” he mumbled out before turning back his attention on you.

the music blared over the speakers, the dance floor was covered in a crowd of people as you swayed your hips to the music, arms raised above your head. your date, in close proximity eyeing you up.

“jealous much?” morgan sipped at his glass of whiskey.

“what do you mean.” spencer’s body stiffened, he turned on his bar stool to face derek.

“man, it’s obvious you like them. why don’t you just say something.”

“i can’t just- they don’t like me like that.” spencer was growing increasingly frustrated.

“mm that’s not what they told me..” derek trailed off, downing the rest of his drink and heading off to the dance floor before spencer could get another word in.

this left the genius in a state of confusion, what had you said to derek? spencer turned back to his original position to people watch, scanning the crowd for you. but you were nowhere to be found.

“one coke please.” you shouted over the music to the bartender, now stood right next to spencer. and of course, simon was at your side.

“you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, spence.” you turned to him.

your hair was unruly, unlike how you usually kept it. there was a small sheen of sweat covering your skin, from your forty five minutes of straight dancing, the flickering lights causing it to glow.

“i’m just tired, that’s all y/n.” he mumbled back, barely audible over justin timblerlakes ‘sexy back’ that had begun playing.

you frowned slightly, your brows creasing as the bartender handed you your drink. you took a small sip, setting it down on the bar counter.

“well i hope you feel better soon.” you gave spencer’s bicep a reassuring squeeze. i’d feel better if you left with me he thought

then you turned to simon, who was standing slightly agitated at your lack of attention.

“would you watch my drink? i’m just going to go to the bathroom.” you smiled as he nodded, running off in the direction of the toilets.

spencer avoided eye contact, staring back into the dance floor to see garcia practically grinding against morgan. what a sight.

from the corner of his vision, spencer could see simon shuffle awkwardly, before dumping a powdery substance into your drink, stirring it with your straw.

immediately he saw red, leaping out of his seat.

“what the fuck did you just do?” he yelled, his voice an octave lower than usual.

simon fidgeted, a shocked expression on his average features, not expecting the sudden outburst.

“n-nothing man- i think you’ve had too much to drink.” he tried to play it off with a nervous chuckle but spencer was having none of it.

he whipped his arm around, picking up your glass of coke in one swooping motion and smashing it against the older males head.

the glass completely shattered, shards of glass and coke spilling all over the floor and the blond man who had now fallen to the floor.

this caught people’s attention, a group of girls to the right of spencer letting out a frightened scream.

“what the fuck?!” simon barked, bringing a hand to the side of his face that was now pouring blood.

spencer had now lunged at simon, grabbing the collar of his shirt with one hand and landing punch after punch to his already bloodied face.

the commotion had caught the rest of the team’s attention, derek had run over and practically yanked the younger man off of simon, who’s face was now bloodied and swollen.

“what the fuck reid?” derek shouted, earning a glare from spencer.

“he fucking tried to spike y/n.”

you had come back from the bathroom, not expecting the sight in front of you. you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, you eyes darting to spencer.

the brunette pulled away from derek’s hold, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his long hair hung over his face as he used a bloodied hand to push it away. his hard gaze met with yours, his hazel eyes immediately softening.

“get the fuck out.” the bartender yelled out, alerting the bouncers.

derek locked eyes with you, giving you a knowing look and you nodded. you grabbed spencer and ushered him out of the bar leaving derek to clean up the mess that was your date on the ground.

once you left the bar, the cold air hit you like a truck causing a shiver to escape your lips. spencer sat against the curb, resting his hands on his knees, avoiding your gaze.

“spence, what was that?” you questioned, a slight wobble to your voice.

“he’s a piece of shit, y/n.” he mumbled out, anger laced in his tone, his eyes locked on the ground.

you let out a frustrated sigh, noticing spencer’s busted knuckles, blood dripping from his hands. you knelt down in front of him, causing his eyes to dart up and meet yours.

“please, spence.” you reached out to cup his cheek.

“i couldn’t stand to see him with you, holding you- and on top of it all- he tried to spike you- i just couldn’t-“ he breathed out, inhaling through his nose as his face settled into your hand.

you felt both sick and relieved at the same time. you didn’t even like simon, he wasn’t who you wanted at all.

“oh spencer..”

“i couldn’t let him- i just snapped. i’m sorry.” he mumbled out, trying to avert his eyes.

“thank you.” you began, catching him off guard. “for doing all that, for me.”

“i- of course i would, i’d do anything for you.” his eyes flickered over your features, over your soft lips, back to your doe eyes.

you didn’t hesitate to press your lips against his, almost knocking him over. he immediately kissed back, wrapping his bloodied hands around your waist trying his best not to stain your shirt.

you ran your hands through his dark locks, feeling the heat from his cheeks against yours, curling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck.

you pulled away, a breathy gasp leaving your lips, pressing your forehead against his. he breathed out, resting his hands on your hips.

“y/n…” he spoke softly, swallowing hard.

“let me take you home, let’s clean up your hands okay?” you suggested, he nodded against your forehead before you pulled away, standing back on your feet.

you helped him up, wrapping your arm around his to avoid hurting his hands further.

“i really wanted that coke.” you pouted as you walked the taller man to your car, a chuckle escaping his lips and you shuffled side by side.

[satoruxx]

SWEET SNACKS.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!

satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.

honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.

he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.

so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.

the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.

"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"

he takes in the scene with interest.

even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.

you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.

and why wouldn't it?

nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.

and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.

but of course, even that couldn't just work out.

satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.

"hey, you need some help?"

you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.

you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.

then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh…my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.

satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.

you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.

so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."

satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"

he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.

satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.

his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.

"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.

satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.

"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."

satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."

you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.

you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.

"satoru."

for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.

you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.

he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.

"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."

you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"

he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.

"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"

satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."

somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.

"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.

he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."

there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"

before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.

"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"

"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.

"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.

"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."

he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."

you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."

"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"

you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."

satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.

"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"

he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."

you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."

there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.

when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.

"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.

you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"

satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"

you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."

you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.

"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."

satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.

he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"

you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."

and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.

but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.

you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.

by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.

you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:

in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3

[sturnioz]

♯┆fully introducing. . . fratboy!chris .ᐟ

fratboy!chris is well-known around campus for being that guy. the one who hosts the best parties, the one who sells the best drugs for a good price, and the one who has got the best dick.

you haven't had the honour of meeting chris yet — although you've heard some interesting stories from all your girlfriends who have had some sort of encounter with him, mostly creaming around his cock and screaming his name in ecstasy.

you feel overwhelmed when you're dragged to one of your first frat parties hosted by the man himself, stepping over the sprawled-out drunken bodies on the lawn, pushing through sweaty crowds of people that dance to the rap music blasting from the speakers, and eyes blinded by the flashy lights decorating the interior.

the heat crawls up your neck when you witness your surroundings, some shoving tongues down each others throats with no care in the world, others smoking weed and lining up coke on any available surfaces.

the first time you see chris, he's lounging out on the couch, manspreading shamelessly. his arm is wrapped around some girl's shoulder, his hand gripping her jaw and drawing her in closer to place a small, circular pill on her awaiting tongue with a smirk.

he strokes her skin before patting her cheek, watching her throat bob as she swallows the pill. in return, she shoves a few dollar bills into the waistband of his pants and plants a glossy kiss on his lips to express her gratitude.

you probably should walk away and go find your girlfriends, not wanting to risk being some kind of creep watching everything unfold. but the embarrassment is already seeping in when chris' eyes flit over to you as he turns his head.

his eyebrow raises as he takes you in, his gaze lingering on the dress you're wearing — a little shorter than your usual attire and leaving little to no imagination, courtesy of your roommate who let you borrow it for the night.

chris pulls his arm from the girl's shoulder, adjusting the bandana on top of his head as he tilts his head to the side, and with a quick upturn of his chin, he gestures for you to come forward.

with your nerves swirling in the pit of your belly, a part of you wants to just turn and walk away to avoid getting pulled into whatever is unfolding. but the curiosity, the nagging sense of intrigue, forces you to make your way over to where chris is seated, unable to ignore the almost predatory once-over he gives you, his eyes trailing slowly up and down your body.

"i haven't seen you before," chris states, his voice low and smooth. he bends forward, reaching out to the table to grab his beer before leaning back. "what's your name?"

when you tell him your name, he hums and nods his head, repeating it to himself before taking a sip from his bottle. his eyes are still locked on you, making you fidget slightly in your spot beneath his intense gaze.

"come sit down," he pats the empty space beside him on the couch, an invitation that's more of a command than a request.

as you move to sit next to him on the cushion, you don't miss the way he carelessly shoos the other girl away from his side, watching as she rolls her eyes before taking her leave, leaving just the two of you alone on the couch.

chris shifts closer to you as he places his beer down, draping his arm across the back behind you. his fingers lightly graze over your bare shoulder where your dress leaves it exposed, and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leans in, his voice barely above a whisper.

"'m chris," he introduces himself. you nod your head as chris' eyes drop down to your lips before meeting your gaze, a grin spreading across his face. "what d'you want, hm? need a lil' somethin' to take the edge off? make you feel good?"

"i..." your voice trails off, overthinking. you'll feel embarrassed if you don't buy anything after all this time, so you mention the first thing you're most familiar with. "weed."

"weed?" chris repeats, an airy laugh leaving him. "okay — sure, i got you."

he parts from you to raise his hips, digging his hand into his pockets to retrieve a ziplock bag of weed with a few pre-mades. he presents it to you in front of your face, swinging it back and forth almost mockingly and you go to reach for it until he snags it back.

"listen..." chris drawls, rolling his tongue across his cheek. "i usually charge fairly cheap for new buyers — to get them comin' back for more, y'know. but uh, but i'll let you have it for free if you let me hit."

you're stunned by his forwardness and confidence, but you're unable to deny the ache between your legs at his words — plus the numerous conversations you've listened in on about how good he is in bed, and you'd be lying if you weren't a little bit curious to see for yourself.

the journey up to his room is a blur, a mess of colours and flashing lights before you're spread out on his unkept bed, dress bunched up to your waist, a joint nestled between your two fingers as chris moves above you, his cock slipping in and out of you.

he's a lot bigger than you anticipated, and the stretch of him would've been far worse if it wasn't for the weed hazing your mind, allowing your body to feel floaty and relaxed.

"so fuckin' tight, doll — shit," chris curses through gritted teeth, arms hooked beneath your thighs as he watches your pussy grip around him, folds puffy and covered in spit. "feels good, yeah? haven't had good dick before? don't worry... i got you. gonna make you feel reaaaaal good."

his words causes your body to buzz, and your back arches against the bed with a whiney sounding moan, almost dropping the blunt to the bedsheets.

"fuckin' crazy if you think i'm lettin' this pretty pussy go... no — no you're mine now. should've let some other kid get to ya before me, cause i'm all you're gettin' now."

© sturnioz

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Failing

Summary: Joel made many mistakes. The biggest was leaving you.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, a lot of inner thoughts, panic attacks, Joel and Ellie do not talk, Joel is a mess, lots of talk about being a failure and not good enough, messy breakup, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This has been going through my mind since I saw the new pic yesterday. This is really different from everything I write usually, so let me know what you think. And yeah, come yell at me in my inbox

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

part one of invisible string

He knew he should have stayed home tonight.

He could have worked on… something. He could have talked himself into picking up his guitar and pretend everything was okay.

He could pretend that he wasn’t a failure.

He could pretend Ellie was still talking to him.

Instead he was here, the people around him celebrating god knows what, music playing, people dancing and he?

He was hoping to at least get a look at the girl that had become like a daughter to him. The daughter he lost because he lied to her.

Turned out his mother was right, lying was not getting him anywhere. 

He hadn’t talked to her in weeks, not getting more than a fleeting look at her from afar like a creepy stalker.

Tommy was right, he needed to give her time.

But somehow he felt like time was running out. 

Tommy had been right in a lot of things lately. Something Joel was not used to, still having the irresponsible young man in the back of his mind he had been before outbreak.

But Tommy wasn’t that man anymore.

He was a husband, a father, a respected leader of the little community he had helped build.

And Joel was…. He did not feel like he changed much. He was still angry all the time.

Angry at the world.

Angry at the people.

But most of all angry at himself.

The way he was feeling now? Alone and lonely?

He had no one but himself to blame for it.

It was moments like these that you came to his mind.

You would know what to do. You would know how to fix this mess that he got himself into. You always did. Until he had pushed you away for good, almost six years ago when he got even more involved in the underground in the Boston QZ.

Meeting and falling in love with you had been the only good thing that had happened to him since the outbreak. You had seen him, the real him.

The broken man that was desperate for… something.

That something seemed to be you.

But like every good that happened to him, he managed to fuck this up too. Not at first, but definitely in the end. 

And he tried. He tried to become a better person. Tried to become the man you deserved, not listening to you when you told him that he did not have to become a better person.

That you fell for him the way he was. With all flaws he thought he had.

But maybe if he had worked on himself he wouldn’t have reacted so poorly when you told him that you were pregnant.

Maybe he wouldn’t have blamed you and you only, taking the easy way out and telling you he would not go through this again.

He should have talked to you, instead of lashing out, should have told you how fucking scared he was about losing another child. About losing you. About raising a child in this fucked up world. About fucking up.

He did so anyway.

He chose to forget about the whole conversation the two of you had after you told him that you were pregnant and that you were intending to keep it from his mind. Or he tried. God, did he try.

But now, deep in the night, when he was laying awake and alone in bed, only the shadows of the night in his company, the words he spat to hurt you creeped back into his mind, not that they had ever been gone.

I don’t love you.

Get rid of it.

Get out of my life.

I never loved you anyway. 

He could still see the way your face crumbled, tears running down your cheeks. 

He broke you that night. And he broke himself. 

He thought about this last argument, this breakup a lot if he was honest with himself.

He never told you, not in words, how much he loved you. He took you for granted. He shouldn’t have been this surprised to learn that you had left the QZ days after he broke you. 

Not a day went by that he wondered what happened to you.

If you were alive.

If you kept the baby.

Would it have your eyes and his hair?

A boy or a girl?

Where they as stubborn as Sarah was?

Did you still love him as much as he still loved you?

Shaking his head he took a sip from the surprisingly good beer someone had offered him when he came here, his eyes wandering through the room, sneaking glances at Ellie who smiled at Dina, deep in conversation with the other girl.

Sucking his bottom lip in, his hand flexing on his side as he tried to find the courage to walk over to Ellie and ask her if they could talk, again, when he heard laughter behind him.

Laughter he heard before, a long time ago.

A laugh he heard in his dreams when his mind allowed him to dream about you instead of the nightmares that plagued him. 

Narrowing his eyes he tried to remember why he was hearing that laugh, why that voice that spoke in low tones now, made his heart flutter, when he saw Tommy walk towards him in a fast pace, his face worried.

“Joel,” he said but Joel wasn’t listening to him.

He was busy preparing for a breakdown that was creeping slowly into his body. 

Joel’s heart seemed to make the connection before his brain did, heart beating widely in his chest as he slowly turned around, his brother’s hand on his shoulder to keep him for turning. He shrugged it off with a grunt, bracing himself to be let down, that he was finally turning insane and imagining you when his eyes landed on you.

Blinking his eyes in disbelief he released a shaky breath when you were still there. 

You were sitting at one of the picnic tables, still as beautiful as he remembered a small smile on your face. A man had his arm wrapped around your back and in your lap sat a girl not older than five who had your eyes and his brown curls.

His heart stopped, he was sure of it.

“She got in yesterday. You were on patrol, I was trying to find you and tell you but….” Joel heard his brother say, but he ignored him.

You were here.

You were here.

And you were alive.

And you had a girl sitting in your lap that was….

His eyes widened when you leaned back and he saw a little boy sitting in the lap of the man next to you that looked like a mini copy of Joel himself.

His chest felt heavy.

Closing his eyes he tried to take deep breaths, but he just couldn’t.

This was too much.

This hurt too much.

This was the happiest he ever was.

“Joel?” he heard his name from his side, Ellie looking down at him worriedly as he pressed his hand against his chest, his eyes watering.

This was the first time she had talked to him in weeks and it might as well be the last time from the way he felt right now.

He was having a panic attack.

But it felt so much worse than it had ever before.

Looking away from Ellie he turned his head back towards you, finding you now looking at him with wide eyes.

“Deep breaths brother,” a strong arm came to pull him up and his frantic eyes found Tommy’s.

“In and out,” he said, trying to calm down his brother. Joel’s hands grabbed his brothers shoulders. Trying to mimic the way he was breathing but couldn’t.

“Joel?” he heard your voice, his head now turning towards you, finding you looking at him worriedly.

Joel shook his head, dark spots at the corner of his eyes.

“You’re here,” was the last thing he whispered before he passed out.

[ohimsummer]

BEG FOR IT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU

— minors dni, bully! satosugu x female! reader, feisty idk, dubcon, groping, nipple play, nipple stimulation, biting/marking, a hint of choking, teasing

wc 1.9k

You’ve heard the name Satoru Gojo whispered among males and females alike on campus. How he’s good looking and charming and oh-so skilled at everything. You think his greatest skill might be getting on the nerves of people who want nothing to do with him.

This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into an altercation with Gojo. It seems he seeks you out for the sole purpose of one; to pin your wrists above your head and lean in close to tease, and suffocate you with his loud cologne that you’ll never admit smells delectable on him. The way this song and dance usually goes is he spots you, taunts you, wrestles you against a wall until he deems your squirming and whining “too annoying”, and then he leaves you with a “See ya later, princess!”. You don’t know why today suddenly warrants different results.

“Let go of me, Gojo.”, you deadpan at him, icy stare meeting his own. You don’t find this manhandling of you funny, you never do, and you hate the way Gojo laughs about it like your dismay is just hilarious to him.

“Make me.”, he chuckles in your face.

Fuck him. You twist against his hold again, and Gojo has to give you credit for actually managing to free a hand. Though it’s about all you’ll manage. He’s too big and too heavy for you to force proximity — it’s like throwing yourself at a brick wall. Doesn’t mean you can’t try.

“Aw, how cute.,” Gojo snickers at your attempt to push him away by the throat, grabbing your wrist and holding it away from him. “Try a little harder for me, yeah?” And he bats those stupid, long eyelashes at you.

You sigh in exasperation and squirm some more. You stamp at his foot, and he moves them at the last minute every time. You push against him to at least get away from the wall, but it’s all to no avail. He’s got you trapped here and there seems to be nothing you can do about it.

“Give up?,” he asks at your deflation.

His taunt springs you back to life, and your cheeks puff out in an angry pout. “Let go of me, I said!”

“Make me, I said.”

And if it wasn’t for your hands being restrained, you’d claw him right in his annoyingly pretty face.

You wriggle again. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t you have anything better to do with your spare time besides harass innocent girls?”

Gojo maneuvers your wrists into one hand just so he can tap at his chin. “Better than this? Don’t think so, gorgeous.” He leans forward to whisper into your ear. “And I’m not harassing innocent girls, I’m harassing you-“

“Get off me!” Your writhing and thrashing cuts off the end of his sentence, and Gojo bursts with laughter at your futile struggles.

“Oh? Who’s that?”

Both of you turn to the sound of the familiar voice. You sigh an obvious, angry breath at the arrival of another annoying man, Suguru Geto. Of all the people who could have come across you two, it had to be someone else to get on your nerves.

“My little plaything.,” Gojo answers. “Cute, isn’t she?“

Geto comes to stand next to his best friend, and something twitches in the pit of your stomach. Aggravation, yes, but something else telling you to hurry and get out of there.

You glare at the two men who steadily eye your constrained form. The look in their eyes harbors anything but good intentions.

Geto starts. “She-“

“Are you two gonna hold me here all day or….?” You have a feeling their spiteful answer is closer to yes, so since you figure they’ll keep you here, might as well be as annoying to them as they are to you.

“Such a pretty face.” You turn away as Geto thumbs at your glossy lips. “Shame you’re so rude.”

“Oh, excuse me for not being so polite to my captors.” They laugh at the scowl on your face, and you find yourself shrinking away from their salacious leering.

Geto tilts his head, and you notice his lingering gaze on your chest. “I just got here, I’m not the one keeping you in these halls.”

“Well, you’re surely not helping.”

Gojo chimes in. “You don’t wanna spend time with us, Y/-“

His grip loosened for just a second, guard let down because Geto’s around, and you take full advantage of it. You yank your wrists away from his grasp, bolting between them and heading for the nearest door to the outside. You can see it clearly, your escape: white double doors with warm sunlight flooding in through the window, a lit up path to your savior, the outside. Your fingers are grazing that first streak of sunshine, the heat of it kisses your fingertips-

There’s a jerk of your wrist, and your salvation is stripped away as fast as it came. You feel a firm heat against your back, and the view of the doors is blocked by Geto’s tall frame. Bright beams of sunlight flow around his body, giving him such a dramatic lighting. Like he’s a god or something. You have to laugh, if not for the irony then for your own sanity because your escape attempt has been so quickly thwarted.

Gojo’s hefty, patronizing laugh sounds out in your eardrum. “And where did you think you were going, hm?”

You’re so pissed off you can’t even hear their cruel mockery. Hands now pinned behind your back, all you can do is hang your head in frustration and curse them in your mind, and God knows you’re cursing the absolute hell out of them. Gojo and Geto and their stupid laugh, their stupid faces, their stupid, stupid need to always be bothering you.

Caught up in your own scornful thoughts, you don’t hear when they address you.

“Think we broke her?,” Gojo asks.

Geto hums, chuckles. “Maybe.” He steps a little closer to you and Gojo. “Let’s see.”

His larger hands hover over your sides, rising until they near your chest. Gojo eagerly studies his movements over your shoulder, watches in anticipation as his friend’s hands come to rest on your breasts.

The groping of your boobs brings you back to reality, and you snap your gaze to the dark haired man in front of you. “H-hey, wait a second-!”

Geto doesn’t stop, only begins slowly massaging your tits as Gojo speaks. “Oh? Back with us, princess?”

You’re incredulous at the absolute gall they have to treat you this way. “Stop that!”

Narrow, dark eyes meet your own, wide and brimming with newfound anxiety. Geto ignores your demands, and his thumbs move to press over your nipples through the two layers of your shirt and bra. It feels so teasing, and the ministrations are causing a wetness between your legs, but you’d never let these two see this is turning you on.

You wiggle and pull away from Geto, but that only presses you further into Gojo’s body. It’s a lose-lose situation. Geto sees the realization in your eyes.

“Gonna behave for me?,” he murmurs as his fingers dip beneath your shirt.

“St-stop—!”, you try and command him with even an ounce of authority, but it comes out as a feeble whimper.

Gojo uses one hand to keep your wrists bound, and the other latches onto your throat. He directs your wavering glare towards him, presses his lips to your cheek as he continues to taunt you.

“We’ll let you go if you beg…”, he offers.

And your immediate answer is of course no, you’d rather eat shit and die. “I most certainly will not! Let go of me!”

Geto pulls your shirt above the swell of your breasts, exposing a lacey, pink bra. He comments ‘cute’, and you barely register it since you’re too busy struggling to turn your head against Gojo’s tight grip. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and while you’re reeling with what you hope is disgust, you feel the tightness of your bra loosen and the undergarment falls to the floor.

“Look at that.”, Gojo halts his teasing assault on you for a second to take a good look at your exposed tits. “So selfish hiding all this from us.”

“I’m not-!,” A squeak interrupts your statement as Geto runs a tongue over one nipple. Your thighs clench on instinct, and the look they share tells you they both noticed.

“I’m not!”, you finish your sentence. You don’t even know what else to say after that.

“Y’know…”, Geto mutters in between harsh suckles of your hardening nipples. “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, you could’ve been out of this by now...”

The sheer audacity for him to even utter such a phrase has you struggling once again. “Weak? It’s taking two of you just to keep me here!”

Gojo promptly quips, “Only one of us is holding you, sweetheart.”

You aim to crush his toes beneath your shoes, only to be met with the floor when Gojo once again dodges your attack. Your lack of a proper comeback might as well be the funniest joke on earth the way he laughs in your ear about it. Not like it’s your fault, how are you supposed to focus with Geto swirling your nipples on his tongue and pinching them between thick fingers, and Gojo biting and sucking rough marks along your neck? You’re fighting back moans and trying to find the strength just to stay upright. If that wasn’t enough, you’re also juggling the fact that your panties are soaked straight through and, if you don’t leave soon, they’ll notice the discoloration dripping down your stockings.

Gojo gives your throat a squeeze, and smirks as you rasp in a breath.

“All you gotta do is beg for it.”, he quietly sings against your earlobe.

Pride be damned, you needed to get away before they used your arousal as another excuse to keep you around any longer. And to escape straight to your dorm for a little private time because just the way Geto was playing with you was gonna have your pussy leaking everywhere. You would not, could not afford to let them see you like that. You’d never hear the end of it.

Gojo’s hand leaves your throat and you let out a sigh. But your relief is short-lived as you feel his touch edge closer to your backside.

You’ve never made a decision faster. “Please let go of me.”

For a split second, it’s like time has stopped. Geto pulls away from your hardened nipples with a loud ‘pop’, Gojo’s hand stills on the curve of your ass. Both men look at you with matching grins, like they just won a Nobel prize.

Geto speaks first. “What was that?”

And Gojo right after. “Yeah, repeat it again?”

Your brows furrow and your gaze falls directly to the floor. “Pl…please let go of me.”

The grip on your wrists loosens instantly, and you snatch away from them both. You tug your shirt down to cover your breasts, and wrap both arms around yourself.

“See, now was that so hard?”, Gojo laughs after you who’s already heading out the door, yelling a shaky ‘fuck you guys!’ as it drifts shut behind you.

You walk back to your dorm on wobbly legs, erect buds poking through your wrinkled top. Finally able to flop down in the comfort of your bed, you realize you never picked your bra up off the floor.

No worries. It’s perfectly safe in their hands.

(aftermath)

[merakidoll]

billionaire men who after a long, stressful day in their beautiful office find themselves gathered at the same high end strip club with beautiful women of all ethnicities, and bodies that left their eyes lingering for too long. they would flash their big bucks, and shiny watches, with their handcrafted suits that fit their fit bodies snug. they would have a nice dark drink that goes along with their personality of “mean and grumpy”

they would leave everyone in the room thinking of how absolutely dominating they are. how they would fuck whoever - deep into the mattress showing the sub who’s the actual boss. but what’s so interesting about these men is that their far from .. “being the boss”. their eager. eager to please, to follow orders, to be a good little boys.

“mmm t-that’s right princy” leaning their head back against the back of the couch, you straddle him. suffocating every breathing point he had with your pussy and ass. you shook, giving him the dance he begged for while also pleasing yourself. his tongue licked and poked all over your pussy wanting to taste a reward that he had been thinking about in all of his stressful, time consuming meetings.

just as he felt that the peak of the delicious cream was near. you got up giggleing at the whine and pouty lips he showcased while heaving in air to his burning lungs. “n-no ! get back he-“ he stopped as soon as your gave him that eye. the warning that if he continued to disobey your authority, he was in for a long edge filled night.

you walked over to his naked, beautiful, body throwing your legs over his muscular thighs and large cock that was always standing proudly. you could only think of what people would say to this image. the playboy billionaire finding himself immersed with the local stripper that almost every night, begs to stuff her cunt with his heir.

“open” he did exactly that, opening the pretty mouth with the million dollar teeth. sliding down onto his cock, you let a large droplet of your saliva fall into his mouth. you held in every whine and moan you wanted to release enjoying how even with a scrunched face, and eyes rolling to the back of his head. he kept his mouth open. letting the chocked moans escape echoing out in the led lit vip room.

“thata boy” you rewarded, closing his mouth and kissing his perfect lips rocking your body at a slow pace so he could feel just exactly how he makes you feel. how wet, and needy he gets your cunt. “f-faster — p-please” instead of being rude and correcting him, you began to bounce. the wet noises of his cock fucking into you deep. along with your combination of moans and dirty talk, telling him how only you could see him this way. how he was only every this slutty for you.

that he was the only one that could get you to cum so much in so little time - which was true. the poor man pleaded on the verge of cumming, and salty tears rolling down his model like cheeks, to suck the pretty brown nipples that were hard from the crisp air. and once again you listened, letting his pink lips wrap around you and suck as if milk was gonna come- that led you both to a loud, long orgasm. and an hour of comforting the big, bad boss.

eren, choso, könig, john price, leon kenndy + anyone who you invasion

[cherryredstars]

hello cherry this is my first time requesting something :)))) i was wondering if you could do a miguel x reader where y/n and miguel get into a big fight because miguel hasn’t been home / hasn’t been letting the reader know when he isn’t going to be there and after their fight y/n goes out to the club to let off some steam with her friends and it turns out miguel is at the club for a business meeting and he spots her and gets a bit possessive (feel free to add anything else you’d like hehehe that’s what im mainly been thinking about )

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Possessiveness, Suggestive, Slight Praise, Dom!Miguel Vibes

A/N: Hello, love! I hope you enjoy!

Unedited

You were still fuming when he left.

Your cheeks puffed in agitation, glaring at him from the couch as he walked out the door. Horrible timing if you ask him. One second the two of you are fighting about how he barely has time for you with all these meetings, and the next he’s asking for a rain check because he’ll be late for a business conference. Really helping him out there.

It’s left him annoyed the whole meeting, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table and rub his face until it peels off. In all honesty, he doesn’t really need to be part of this meeting. He’s only here for looks, not even expected to know what the meeting is about or add any input. He could be at home, laying on the couch between your legs as he laps at the liquid gold between your thighs as an apology.

Miguel lets out a heavy sigh, the noise getting lost with the loud music that’s giving him a headache. His eyes wonder from the table of men, turning his head to peer over the railing surrounding the balcony of the VIP section. His eyes scan the mass of people, taking in the writhing mass. At his age, things like clubs have lost their appeal, but he knows this place would be something you would like. You’d love to dance to these songs, too.

Miguel hums to himself, making a mental note to take you here sometime soon. His eyes are about to go back to the meeting when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. Or, multiple faces. His eyes zero in on you, your face turned to talk to your friend behind you. The strobe lights light your face in different neon colors, and he straightens up. His eyes stay on you as you walk through the crowd, a drink in one hand and the other slapped over the top as you walk. Good girl.

Miguel is content to have you have this time with the girls, knowing after fights like this you need something to take your mind off of things. But his eyes stray to a group of men near the bar leering over at your group of friends, one of the sleazy fucks gaining courage to walk towards you. Miguel’s expression sours, and he fixes his suit jacket as he stands up. The group instantly stops talking, focusing on Miguel.

“Where are you going?” One of his coworkers ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

Miguel doesn’t spare him a glance, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “Bathroom.”

The group continues to watch him, slowly turning back to each other and continuing the conversation. Miguel turns his back to them as he leaves, his eyes sticking to where you and your group stand. He can see the fuck walking towards you, and he grumbles when he realizes he’ll get to you first. Once he descends the stairs, it gets slightly harder to spot you. But it isn’t an impossible task with his abnormal height, and he can still make out the vague area you’re in. The crowd parts easily for his intimidating build, and soon enough he’s a few feet away from you.

As expected the sleaze is already with you, mouth moving way too much as he talks to you. Your brow is furrowed in annoyance, and you glare at the man as he talks. Miguel can’t make out what he’s saying, but he can tell you aren’t interested in his shit. Miguel’s stare hardens when the man leans forward, getting into your personal space and whispers something to you.

Miguel reaches you right as you lift your hand to slap him. Miguel’s front presses into your back, his hands acting fast as one wraps around your wrist and the other around your neck to tilt your head up. Your face shoots up to stare at him, the glare in your eyes softening slightly at the sight of him. Miguel’s thumb strokes the pulse point on your neck, calming you down as he stares at the man in front of you.

“Down girl,” he mumbles to you, slowly lowering your hand so it rests at your side.

You make a sound similar to a scoff, but you don’t resist. Your body melts into him, and you turn to hug him when he lets go of your neck. The man looks between the two of you and scoffs, walking off with an irritated grumble once he realizes he’s not getting lucky with you. Miguel watches him go, his large hand stroking your hair.

Once he’s completely gone you pull away from Miguel. That glare is back on your face, and you cross your arms as you stare at him.

“I’m not some dog.” You sass, tilting your chin up.

Miguel hums. uninterested. His hand comes to grab your cheeks, squeezing them together so your lips pucker. The furrow in your brow grows deeper, and Miguel’s mouth twitches at the corner.

“Of course not, mamí,” he agrees. “But you are a brat.”

You begin to grumble a protest but Miguel pinches your cheeks tighter.

“Ah-“ he cuts you off. “Behave and have fun, yeah? I’ll come get you when my meeting’s done.”

Your lips jut out further with a pout, and your grumble something inaudible before nodding reluctantly. Miguel hums, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Good girl. I’ll be back”

He lets go of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead before giving you a once over and leaving. You watch him go, trying to ignore the ache between your thighs.

You hate that fucker.