#to have found someone whom he can comfortably be himself around with

[lcverwrites]

the lovers ― aegon targaryen

summary ... aegon had never known the tender touch of love, from the cradle as a babe, he was cursed to be unlovable. his mother held no love for him, only the safety he provided her. his father never spared him a glance, to sickness struck to see past his golden daughter. his siblings were indifferent to him, never really having the want to dig past his drunkard front. but then came her... aegon never understood why she loved him, what she saw in him that others could not, what he could not see in himself. but thank the gods above, there was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her devotion, because the unlovable had finally found someone who loved him; and who he loved in turn. pairing ... aegon ii targaryen x tyrell!reader (wife reader) warnings ... self loathing, talks of being unlovable, strained family dynamics, targcest (mentioned, but not seen), hurt/comfort, angst, trying to heal from unhealthy relationships, mentions of drinking, supportive wife mode note ... I want this fictional man a healthy amount, as you can clearly see. I might make some more things for this couple in the future, cause they've been on my mind for a loooong time. I just want to love this man for a second, after the shit storm they put him through this season. Let me know if you want more of aegon x tryell!reader, perhaps some smut between these two lovers 😏🫶🏻

⠀⠀⠀Voices spoke muffled words around Aegon, drowning him in their monotonous sounds, unimportant and distant from his thoughts. Aegon knew he should have been listening to his merriment of council members, they were talking about the needs of the realm, the wants of the smallfolk, the unwarranted needs of the already wealthy lords and ladies in his court, the impending doom awaiting them across the sees, with his sister plotting to take the crown from his very head.

The crown she was once promised, The Realms Delight was worlds away now, and the crown snuggly sat upon Aegon's head, the doing of the Mother and Grandsire, the controlling hands that guided Aegon under the guise of their affection and want to see him succeed, to bring the promised peace Viserys once spoke about.

But Aegon knew better now.

His mother held no love for her eldest son. She held him at arms length, with contempt, her lips pursed as if she couldn't ever fathom smiling at her own son. With a faux guiding hand, never reaching for a tender touch, only a harsh slap to awaken him from thoughts of straying from the path laid out for him. Alicent Hightower liked to believe she loved her children to the best of her ability, but Aegon knew better, knew that her love came with conditions, and Aegon's was to keep the safety of her family, even if he was killed in the process.

His Grandsire was a bitter old man, who reached above his station as hand of the king, all but ready to snatch the crown from Aegon himself. He was the driving force for Aegon's ascension, seeing the malleable drunk as a way to reach his ultimate prize, to be King through Aegon. There wasn't a bone in Otto Hightower that cared for Aegon past the power he could bring him.

Aegon could hear his mothers docile voice, sweeter than those of the men whom sat around her. Her words blurred into a flurry of movement, her lips parts around the words he wasn't taking in.

He watched his mother. Seeing his lips in her mirror image, full and pink, a slight downtick in the right corner, a frown always threatening to take her tender disposition by the throat. He could see the shape of her eyes, wide like a doe, but all innocence was washed away by a bland rage that barely simmered beneath their dark pools of amber liquid, subdued and boring. She could see her picking at the skin of her nailbeds, a bad habit she never outgrew in her youth, a habit she passed onto Aegon, if his red and raw nails were a certain sign.

He could see so much of himself in Alicent, in his own mother, a mirror into Aegon's soul. But all she could see in Aegon was his father, and she despised him for it.

His gaze traversed from his mother, to the stoic statue was his brother. Foreboding and concealed all at the same time, Aemond was a fearsome foe.

Aemond spoke little, hums of approval passed his sealed lips, displeased puffs of air fled from his nose. When words did leave his lips, they were precise, vicious and cold in the manner, strait to the point, never one to flounder and flaunt with unnecessary grandeur. He spoke as if he were a worldlier man, knew the bitterments was war and what was required to secure their victory, through fire and blood, through destruction and death. Aegon didn't know if it meant their own destruction or their foes, Aemond's want for power knew now bounds.

It's what desired him to his Grandsire.

He saw a likeness in Aemond that he didn't see in Aegon, and he held hatred and resentment for his oldest grandson.

Aemond paid no mind to Aegon, as if he was not there, the chare beneath him empty, no figurehead to be seen. He spoke to the counsel with the convection of a King, hand perched on the hilt of his sword, as if ready to strike at any given moment, lest one of the lords spoke against him, as if it were treason.

As young boys, Aegon and Aemond were like most boys he supposed. They poked and prodded at one another, until one of them bled, pleading for the other for mercy, running and crying to their mother. Often it was Aegon tormenting Aemond for his lack of dragon, for being the boring little know it all, smacking him against in the training yard in the name of bettering his skills, but Aegon wanted his little brother to feel even just a moment of the bitter resentment he felt feasting in his insides, sloshing around with the sweetened wine he drank himself into a stupor with.

He wanted his brother to feel small, unwanted, unloved, just as he felt. But no matter what Aegon did, his brother would always have their mother behind him, caressing his with the tender touch he craved. The lick his wounds with her tender voice, chaste kisses to the crown to his head, all the while berating Aegon in the same breath.

Aegon knew he shouldn't have treated Aemond so, they were both circumstance of their family, they were the only people who could truly understand each other, but resentment flooded Aegon's bones, strengthening his hatred for everyone whom shared his blood, and couldn't taste the bitter bite of his flesh.

Aemond resented Aegon for what he was given, just because he had the audacity to be born first. He was given the crown of their founding family, he was given the undeserving respect of the smallfolk, he was given the time and energy the the King's counsel. He was given the best tutors and training teachers, but he never respected what has trust upon him, not in the way Aemond would have welcomed him. Now his brothers days were spent on the throne he desired so, drunk in his cups and stupidly stuttering around like the idiot Aemond has always known Aegon to be.

Aegon leaned back in his uncomfortable chair, hand reaching out to play with the ball before him, the marble feeling cool beneath his heated palms. He felt as of he were just melting into the wood beneath him, and no one seemed to notice.

Except...

A hand reached for his arm, a delicate little thing, decorated with gentle rings that glimmered in the afternoon light, shimmering shades of glittering gold, azure blue and brilliant emerald. The smooth skin of a palm caressed his forearm, thumb digging into the malleable skin beneath his wrist, as if she knew he was slowly floating away, grounding him to this moment, to her touch.

Oh but she....

She was a marvellous thing. Aegon hadn't seen anything so precious in his life, so delicate, so wonderfully beautiful. There weren't enough words in the world for Aegon to describe her, nothing could ever truly do her justice, and he had tried, many a times, much to her amusement.

The Lady Tyrell had been a gift Aegon knew he wasn't deserving of, it was as if the gods were cursing him to gaze upon the mirror of the Maiden, but never being good enough, strong enough, smart enough to be worthy of even a glimpse in his direction. Aegon would only think himself lucky enough to dream about her gentle touch, to be the lucky man whom would receive her affection, to have her smile at him in a manner he'd never seen a maiden smile before.

Her smile started small, only an upward pulling in the right corner of her lips, inch by inch, her pretty pink lips would stretch in the most delicious curve, revealing the pearls of her teeth, little creased would dip in the skin of her cheeks as she would freely smile, a crinkle would form in her nose, her eyes would glitter with a golden looking happiness, as if you were the centre of her world in that very moment, the very reason she was smiling, like you were the only thing that could make her happy.

Aegon wished he could bottle the feeling her smile encapsulated, pure and true happiness unlike anything Aegon has felt before.

How could a persons smile be so contagious?

Despite his reservations, the Lady Tyrell held no contempt for him. She gazed upon him as if she were seeing him for what he was and she was willing to accept him, bitter soul and all.

The Lady Tyrell squeezed his arm, only once, and it was enough to have Aegon retreating from the narrow tunnel he was burrowing himself into. His gazed picked up from the marble to look upon the visage of his wife.

His Wife.

They'd been married when they were ten and three respectively, much to young to be married, but as is the way Aegon supposed. He hadn't even been given the chance to speak with her, before it was announced in the King's Counsel that they were to be married.

But they've come a long way from those scared children they had been all those years ago.

But the one thing that hadn't changed, was the devotion and love she had bestowed upon Aegon. Day in and day out, there wasn't a moment in time where she didn't love him.

"Perhaps the counsel should take a breath" Her melodic voice pierced through his muffled thoughts, like it always did, his every being was tuned into every sound and moment she made.

"Pardon, your grace?" Lord Lannister paused a moment, looking at her with a look of confusion.

"You have been discussing for hours now" She mildly replied, keeping an easy smile on her lips, looking like the pliant woman they demanded she be. "If we were to be attacked by our foes, they would have done so already, surely you all see this"

"Just because it hasn't happened, does not mean it will not happen" Otto Hightower's condescending voice bounced around the room, looking down upon the Lady Tyrell, as if she were a speck of dirt on his boot.

Aegon clenched his fist, loathing that she was rained down upon by Otto's hatred because she was connected to Aegon.

She never seemed to waiver beneath his gaze, nodding demurely at the Hand, as if she were bending to his whims.

"I do not disagree my Lord" She announced. "But perhaps we have spoken on the themes of war for much to long"

"Your Grace, forgive me for speaking so candidly--"

"Then do not"

All eyes turned to Aegon, who for the first time since the counsel had gathered, had found himself voicing the words that had been rattling around in the back of his throat.

"The Queen has excused you" Aegon bluntly replied, leaning further back in his seat, pulling his arm along with him, turning it just so, allowing his palm to slide right along her. Their fingers gliding together like magnets pulling them together, locking them in place.

Aegon relished the feeling of her warm palm beneath his own, smooth skin against his own rough calloused skin, like silk against leather. The cool metal of her rings biting into his warm skin, a zinging shock to his system.

"Aegon, the counsel needs to speak about--" Alicent tried to gage her son back into the conversation, but Aegon was already detached from everything that was her.

"Your King has dismissed you" Aegon interrupted his mother.

Aegon looked to his mother, seeing her lips parted in surprise. She wasn't used to Aegon snapping at her so, he had always been so willing to bow to his mother, wishing for her affection in return.

But he now knew what love without restraints and conditions tasted like, he craved the affections of his wife, whom would willingly allow him to be loved without limits.

"Fuck off" Aegon waved off the counsel.

He didn't even watch as each member grumbled up their breath about something or the other. He didn't notice the shared look of concern on his Mother and Grandsires faces, he didn't see the glare Aemond had wagered his way, icy and void of any brotherly affection. He didn't see any of it, and if he had, he wasn't sure he would care.

Not when she was gazing upon him as she always had.

With love.

"You may have been too crass my love" She smiled as the last of the counsel left the room, the foreboding doors slamming closed behind Otto Hightower himself, sealing himself out of reach of the King.

"They are a bunch of power hungry cunts" Aegon shrugged.

"Be that as it may" She conceded with a soft smile. She pushed herself from her seat, keeping her hand within Aegon's, walking around her corner of the table, until she was standing directly beside the chair Aegon was currently lounging in. "They are here because they support your cause"

Aegon huffed a breath through his nose.

He used their connected hand to haul his wife's body into his lap, she fell willingly into his embrace, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders.

"I do not wish to speak about them anymore" Aegon announced, shifting his wife further into his lap, until the side of her body was pressed firmly against his chest, the warmth of her body radiating through the thick fabric of her dress.

"Then we shall not" She decided, resting her forehead against his temple.

In this moment, Aegon hadn't ever imagine he would feel a love like this. He couldn't have ever pictured someone would love him for what he was, not for what he could give them.

He placed a gentle kiss against her cheek, enticing a soft smile to paint her pink lips.

Whatever god had decided to bring the two lovers together, he was praying that nothing would bring them apart.

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: this fic will contain DARK CONTENT. MINORS DNI. AGELESS BLOGS DNI. reader and touya are childhood friends, kidnapping, reader does not consent to what touya’s doing, possessive/obsessive behavior, one-sided pain kink, no sex, no aftercare, hurt/no comfort,  this takes place after dabi broadcasts that he’s a todoroki, touya burns reader in multiple places, touya burns your clothes off, this is seriously fucked up content, this is not intended to be sexy or hot or anything like that, it’s literally just fully DARK CONTENT GENRE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT SUMMARY: touya intends to make you his—permanently. WORD COUNT: 1.4K 🦊’s A/N: whoa….. god help us all. this is my first seriously dark fic here and there will be plenty more to cum 💦

     “now—don’t be like that, doll,” dabi scolds you as he finishes tying off the rope at your ankles. currently, you were laying face down against the mattress, limbs pulled apart spread eagle style, blindfolded and terrified.

     when you were on your way home earlier tonight, you weren’t exactly expecting to be kidnapped in broad daylight. maybe it was your fault for taking that shortcut through that shadyass alley…. goddammit. now, you had no one to blame but your own dumb ass.

     what you weren’t aware of, however, was the fact that touya had been stalking you for weeks now—waiting for the perfect time to snatch you up. you see, he’d always had a bit of a crush on you since you were always there for him when you were children, someone whom he actively sought solace in. so, now that you were both adults and his feelings had time to simmer and intensify, he found himself thinking about you obsessively—he thought of you as something he just had to have; something akin to a doll he had to mark as his. and that’s exactly what he’d do.

     “please…. let me go!” you cry, tears dampening the cloth obstructing your vision. “i— i have — have to get home! i have people waiting for me!” you lie, wiggling around on the bed.

     he had taken you to some abandoned home—the family already dead and gone weeks ago, as touya had been planning this exact scenario for months now. and he finally has you exactly where he’s dreamt you’d be: struggling beneath him as he marks you as his permanently. 

     “that’s a lie and we both know that, sweets,” he spits out. “‘ve been watchin’ you for a while now, y’know…” suddenly his lips are right next to your ear, hot breath fanning over the shell of it as a chill runs down your spine. 

     “but, i’ll tell ya what: if y’can guess who i am, i’ll let you go free. sound good?” he proposes, meaning his words—he knows you’ll come crawling back to him once he’s through with you. you wouldn’t have any other choice, really!

     that being said, he activates his quirk on his hand and sets flame to the button down shirt you wore, and as a result, your bra as well, making you cry out painfully as the overwhelming heat consumes your upper body for a few long moments. …and then just like that, it’s gone and you’re left in just the stupid skirt you’d decided to wear today and your panties.

     now, with his quirk active on just his index finger, he brings it down to your naked lower back where he begins to spell out his name—his real name. 

     he did it tortuously slowly, though. taking his sweet time to make sure you could feel the stroke of each letter so that there would be no mistaking who he was.

     T…

     it’s all you can do to scream and bite down on the pillow by your head. the heat was beyond blistering, and you think you might pass out as he agonizingly traces the letters of his name.

     O…

     “jesus christ, owow–OW—OW–! fuck!” you scream-sob, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks from the searing pain as he mockingly praises you for being so brave. 

     U…

     suddenly, the realization of who he might be clicks amidst the pain, and it’s all you can do to cry; “t–touya!? b–but why?” 

     he doesn’t stop writing as he grins so widely, he pops a couple staples—the ones closest to his mouth—and continues spelling out his name before deciding to answer you.

     Y… A…

     perfect….. his handwriting wasn’t exactly the best, but it was undoubtedly his. just like you were.

     the last you’d seen him was on the news when he dropped the metaphorical bomb that was him being the eldest todoroki sibling. and before that? the night he supposedly “died.” so, not only was finding out he’s been alive this whole time a slap in the face, but now he has the audacity to kidnap and brand you? like you’re a piece of property!?

     “why?” he rasps out. “it’s pretty simple, really. …because you’re the only one who understands me—”

      “n–no! t– touya, this isn’t—” isn’t what? this isn’t him? this isn’t right? the touya you were once familiar with perished long ago and so had his morals.

     his hand comes down to strike against your ass with an awful, burning force, and you swear there’s an immediate handprint that forms. 

     your back arches instinctively, forcing your stomach firmly against the mattress, in attempt to escape his blazing touch, but touya doesn’t give you time to recover before he’s bringing the same hand down again, with just as much force and firepower as before, and you yelp loudly as you squirm against your restraints.

     “pl– please–! why me?”

     “i just told you—don’t tell me your memory’s that bad?” he quirks a brow up at 

      it’s true that you’d had a crush on the man now known as dabi back in your youth, but that crush died when touya did, forcing you to mourn both him and the feelings you harbored towards him. and now he comes back from the dead like nothing? did he even try to seek you out in all this time? 

     he had, actually, at multiple points; little “check ins”of sorts, if you will. observing from a distance, too scared to reach out.

     “n–no! ‘s’not! i just—! ow! fuck! touya, please!” 

     “you what?” he snaps, spanking your other asscheek this time.

     “fuck! ow–! touya, please! please!”

     his hand comes down again, harder and hotter than before and you bite your tongue so hard it starts to bleed, filling your mouth with an almost sickening coppery taste. rather than swallow it, you spit it out onto the bed, as far away from your face as you can manage, and touya laughs at the pathetic sight. 

     “you poor thing,” he coos mockingly. “maybe i should’ve given you something to bite down on—...oh well, it’s too late now,” he laughs cruelly as another idea comes to mind. next, he thinks he’ll carve the characters of his name into your back, rather than just the romaji writing, and right between your shoulder blades at that. 

     “t–tou—touya, i—” you swallow thickly, unable to think of anything but the pain, or if you’d ever get to go home again after this. part of you almost wishes he would just kill you so you wouldn’t have to live with this mark of him for the remainder of your life.�� 

     “you—” he cuts you off, “are not going to like what happens next.” there’s an inflection of sorts in his voice—he sounds… like he found humor in his own words, like whatever was about to happen next would be funny. 

     he sets flame to his pointer finger again and brings the searing digit down against your flesh, and the smell that arises as he carefully takes his time with each stroke of the characters needed to spell his name—even going as far as to use his former surname todoroki in the spelling, just to make it that much more agonizing for you.

     轟。。。

     you wail and bite onto the pillow, staining it with your blood, as touya burns your flesh for his own entertainment.

     燈。。。

     矢。。。

     there. now he could be done with you until you inevitably decided to seek him out—too embarrassed and full of shame to continue living amongst normal citizens; after all, being branded by a well-known villain and then being set free into society like it never even happened is sure to take a toll on one’s mind. 

     what are you gonna do? call the police? tell a pro? show them your new scars as evidence? the idea is laughable. 

     “there—we’re all done,” he says, leaning over your trembling form to burn the ropes binding your trembling form to the bed, quickly followed by the ones tied around your ankles. “i’m a man of my word, so you’re free to go,” he says with a deviant, slightly crooked smirk. 

     rather than immediately booking it, you curl up tightly into a ball as your body’s wracked with heavy, heaving sobs, processing the physical and mental pain as touya just chuckles at your pathetic self, getting up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets.

     “well, see ya around,” he says, walking off as if he didn’t have a care in the world, leaving you to cope with your situation and what happens next.

return to KINKTOBER | LEAGUE OF VILLAINS M.LIST

[lukalnst]

o em gee i was so happy to discover you and that you also wrote for alien stage! i’ve loved all of ur works so for and i couldn’t help but want to request something as well! would it be possible to request some hurt/comfort with till from alien stage? maybe you both got into a little fight or ur jealous abt something idk im not vv creative but feel free to skip this if you like! thank you for reading and have a great day <333

Jealousy + Till x Reader

Includes: Hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, eventual fluff don't worry,,, light angst , a few kisses , short

A/N: I'm so glad you were happy to discover me heehhee ^.^

If it was jealousy, you were used to it.

Still, you really couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous when Till spent time with other people — yes, you couldn't have him all to yourself all the time, so you had to share him with other people... Still, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

The way he expressed himself with other people was... different. He was different when he was with you and when he was with others. Did he not feel safe enough with you? Were you not good enough of a partner? Many questions filled your mind, most of which you guessed would remain unanswered as for now.

He also seemed... content to be with other people. What if he found someone else who was better than you? Someone who made him feel more loved than you could ever make him feel?

It hurt so much just to think about it.

Eventually, you had grown distant from him. This didn't go unnoticed by Till, though. He noticed the small changes in your demeanor, the way you wouldn't share as much about yourself as you used to do.

One day, while you two were lying in bed, he tried to place his hand on your shoulder, to which you just moved away slightly. He couldn't pretend as if things were alright anymore.

First, he called out your name. "Hey. I can tell somethin' is wrong. Do you wanna talk about it?" his voice seemed to be gentler than usual, if you were upset, he didn't want to make you feel worse than you probably already were.

You stayed silent for a while, and you felt a small knot form in your throat. Despite this, you decided to reply. "It's – well... you just seem so happy to be with others, and... I'm not sure if you will be happy with me," you continued. "I mean.. what if you find someone better?" Your voice slightly cracked.

Till himself was familiar with feelings of jealousy, but he was much more shy about them. That wasn't what he wanted to focus on right now, though. "Someone better?" he asked.

"I really don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't care for others, really," He positioned himself so you could maintain eye contact with him better. "I want you with all of your flaws and imperfections... All that sappy stuff, I want you with all of your qualities."

Your eyes were filled with tears soon enough, many of whom were spilled and had started to run down your face. He wanted you with all of your insecurities — he managed to see right through them, too.

"Hey, don't cry," He uttered out. He was quick to wrap his arms around you and softly kiss your tears away. "I love you, so be happy, okay?" He planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

You hadn't exactly had someone care this much about you... most people wouldn't care to reassure or comfort you, but Till was different.

"One day, it'll just be two of us. You can ignore all the pricks who ever tried to take my attention away from you." He smiled softly at you, something which was an unfamiliar sight for others to see.

As he softly held you in his arms, you knew you'd be safe with him. He wasn't going to find someone better or leave you anytime soon. At least, that's what you wanted to tell yourself.

He softly whispered small words of reassurance into your ear, then pressed his lips against your own.

[fushigowo]

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐊, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓 | 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

⇢ ˗ˏˋ PAIRING: skater!getou x fem!reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SYNOPSIS: parties are out of your comfort zone, but when your friends dragged you to come with them at a frat party, you stumbled across getou suguru—the man who has been eyeing you since your first day on campus.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS: public sex, exbihitionism, fingering, wall sex, doggy, oral sex, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, size kink, multiple orgasms soft to mean dom suguru, suguru wears a lot of rings

⇢ ˗ˏˋ NOTES: WE ARE SO BACK (I DID NOT PROOFREAD THIS)

Getou Suguru is usually uninterested when it comes to women asking him out. He is always nonchalant and doesn’t give any fucks whenever someone is showing interest in him. Sure, he fucks around but that would just be a quick fuck to satisfy himself and nothing more. He wasn’t interested in anyone because they weren’t you.

Getou Suguru usually fucks around with other women, only because he imagines them as you. Suguru can get any woman he wants, but when it comes to you? Oh, you were hard to get, alright. And that—Suguru thinks—is quite a challenge for him. Unlike other women whom Suguru usually sees at the pit or frat parties, you couldn't be found at either of them. So, Suguru decided to know where your usual spots are on campus. In his defense, he wasn't stalking you. He only wanted to hang out and try to find a way to talk to you.

What Suguru thinks makes you stand out from the crowd is your aura. Whenever he saw you hanging out with your friends, you were always the soft-spoken one. Suguru likes how vibrant and soft you are. You don't give a single fuck about what other people say about you being fake because you’re always so nice, even to people who hate you.

Your sense of style is also a plus for Suguru. You always wear shades of pink, usually the lighter ones and always have those cute, little ribbons on—whether it is on your hair or your top or your tights or your shoes. While you wear those pink, vibrant colors, Suguru wears the complete opposite. He usually wears heavy colors, mostly black and a lot of accessories, which are rings. Aside from Suguru’s hobby of skating, he also plays as lead guitarist in a band in his free time when he’s not busy with academics. You, however, usually spend your time taking walks in parks and going to art museums when not busy with your studies. Suguru knows that your major is associated with art. Not to be a creep, but because of Suguru’s deep admiration for you, he came to realize that your program is Fine Arts, majoring in painting.

Right now, Suguru’s eyeing you from across the library as he finishes studying and taking notes. He wasn’t supposed to take two hours in the library, but because you were here, it was such a distraction for him. He finally snapped back to his senses when your friend came crashing into your peaceful time. Suguru went back to studying and finally left with his notebooks and book in his hands before taking one last glance at you, ignoring your friend’s presence.

“Hey,” your friend greeted you and sat beside you. You closed your notebook and looked at her with a smile, asking what was her business with you. “Do you have any deadlines this weekend? Y'know, you’re always busy with your plates and canvases and shit. You can have fun with us this Saturday.”

“And what kind of fun am I getting myself into, Mei Mei?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Just some frat party—”

“No.”

“Come on, babe. Just one time.” she pleads.

“You know parties are out of my comfort zone,” you replied. “I’m just not comfortable being in one.”

“Just one time, please? Utahime, Shoko, and I will keep you company. Besides, you might meet someone there.” she winked.

Giving up your defenses, you take a deep sigh in defeat before saying, “I’ll think about it, Mei Mei.”

Your friend, to her excitement, accidentally squealed in the library, which made you wince in embarrassment. Sometimes you don’t know why you’re associated with your friends. Mei Mei, the gambler. Shoko, the smoker. Utahime, the violent one. Well, what can you say? They’re your friends, you support them no matter what. Later that night, you were doing your makeup when your friends came crashing into your dorm. The good thing is that your roommate wasn’t there with you. Otherwise, she would complain again about how annoying your friends are. You can’t blame her though. You definitely understand her. After one last look at your outfit in the mirror, your friends finally dragged you out of your dorm.

As your friends walk you to the venue of the party, you can already hear the loud, thunderous music echoing from the distance accompanied by the overlapping voices of dozens of people enjoying and having fun at the party. You weren’t even in front of the doorstep yet you already want to ditch your friends and go back to your dorm and have a peaceful night for yourself.

The frat house was huge, almost as huge as a manor house, having three stories. Its walls are made with brick walls covered in off-white paint, with the front of the house having a banner with the name of the frat. You don’t even have to guess that the house was packed, because it already was.

“Come on, babe. It’ll be fun.” Mei Mei whispered to you and didn’t even give you time to protest when she came dragging you inside.

The inside of the house was even messier than you pictured in your head. The music was even louder than outside. It had your ears ringing because of how loud it was. People were all scattered across the house; playing ping pong tables or something, dancing in the living room, drinking and making out in every corner, playing seven minutes in heaven, dancing, partying, all that stuff.

You wanted to stick with your friends, but Mei Mei and Shoko went their separate ways, and Utahime was nowhere to be found, which you guessed already ditched the party. When you decide to ditch your friends as well, you come walking towards the front door until someone blocks you from your way.

“Uhm, excuse me,” you muttered.

“Never seen you here before, cutie. Want a drink?” The man who offered you a drink was a white-haired man with cerulean blue eyes accompanied by his pale ivory skin and huge, and you mean, huge, tall, and muscular build.

“Oh, yeah—uhm, sure.” You couldn’t say no. The man, then, handed you a cup of beer and offered you a seat somewhere in the house. It was pretty calm where you’re at. Just a bunch of college people, talking and playing games and socializing in general.

“What’s your name? We’ve been throwing a lot of parties since our freshman year here,” he says. “So many familiar faces, but you’re someone who I saw just now. Oh, I’m Satoru, by the way. Gojo Satoru.” he smiled at you, making you smile back.

You told your name to him and answered that your friends only dragged you here and that you don’t really do well when it comes to parties. You didn’t tell him the part that you just hate crowded and loud places.

“I see,” he said. “Well, I hope you’re having a great time.”

“Not really.” you chuckled bitterly. “I don’t know where my friends are and I have no idea who you guys are.”

“Why don’t you join us then?” someone from across your seat asked.

Your eyes met with black-colored ones. He has a small smile plastered on his pinkish, thin lips. His hair is long and lustrous, tied in a half-bun. Same with Gojo, he is tall and muscular as well, given that his wide, black tank top is showing his muscles and even his chest. What intrigued you the most is his clothing. He wears all black clothes, his pants filled with accessories, such as chains and belts with creative designs. He also wears a lot of piercings on his ears and his fingers are filled with silver rings. You thought that Gojo is handsome and all, but this man is gorgeous. You didn’t even realize that you were staring at him for a while now when Gojo snapped his fingers in front of your face, taking you back to your senses.

“You’re staring at him too much, angel. You’re making me jealous.” Gojo jokes.

“Fuck off, Satoru.” The man scolded the white-haired man before looking at you again. “We’re gonna play something. Wanna join?”

“Sure. What is it?” you asked.

“Seven minutes in heaven, as usual.” Gojo rolled his eyes.

You didn’t say anything and decided to join and all the participants in the game sat down on the floor in a circle.

While the game is on-going—with other people being locked in the closet—your eyes are stuck on the black-haired man. He is talking to one of his fratmates, which you had guessed. Something about him that makes you squirm on your seat. You kept observing how good-looking he is and how he talks in such a soft-spoken way with other people and he always has a nice look on his face, even when not talking. At least that’s what you think.

You were silently hoping that the two of you would be locked in the closet together, with privacy in the dark. And when that happens, there’s a high possibility that you could feel his touch on your skin or even his lips meeting yours while his hands are traveling around your body, making their way down on your—

“Oops! Get in the closet, Suguru!" Gojo yelled at one of the participants but you were too busy fantasizing about Gojo's friend.

Suddenly, you were then guided to walk towards the closet with the person you were paired up with already inside it. Now, you’re locked inside a dark, chilly closet with someone you don’t even know by name or by face because the closet was too dark for you to make up the features of the person you were with.

“Uhm…” you mumbled, not knowing what to say. “Where… oh—I'm sorry.” you apologized when your hand hit something hard. It was his chest. His chest is hard as fuck.

“It’s okay.” he chuckled. “Didn’t even hurt, princess.”

“I didn’t expect to play this again in college,” you mumbled. “The last time I played this, I was in high school when I had my first kiss. It was not good at all.”

The man chuckled again, this time much louder than before. “Was he not a good kisser?”

“Definitely not. He was awful, and I’m being too nice with the word awful.” you said in disgust. “It was such a horrible seven minutes in heaven.”

“Someone needs to teach him how to kiss. Besides, it’s embarrassing being a horrible kisser when kissing someone so pretty.”

“How do you know I’m pretty?”

“I just know,” he mumbled. “Want me to make this a wonderful seven minutes in heaven for you?”

“How?” you asked.

“Come closer,” he whispered, which you did.

His touch made you startled on your feet, making him chuckle under his breath. His hand, then, started to caress the back of your head and feel your hair.

“Relax, sweetheart.” he said those words that can make you imagine a smile on his lips.

His hands are taking their time exploring your body, making their way down to your waist then up to your spine that sends you shivers on your back then down to your waist again. The man’s touch was warm and needy as if he wants to explore every inch of your body right here, right now. He was not shy to let his hands travel beneath the fabric of your shirt and even your mini-skirt.

You didn’t even notice that you were already leaning so close to him, that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands are resting on his chest while one of his is caressing your ass. The other starts making its way to your chin, guiding you to look up at him despite not seeing his face due to the darkness of the closet.

The closeness of his warm breath made contact with your lips and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours. At first it was a gentle, passionate kiss, slowly turning into a hungry one, filled with desire and lust. His hand on your chin then held your cheek.

The way he guided you up against the wall was dominant yet gentle and careful at the same time. His kisses became hungrier as his tongue snaked its way inside of your mouth, meeting your tongue. You couldn’t help but moan against his kisses that your hands made their way up to his hair. You didn’t even notice the long length of it and his half-bun up because you were so intoxicated by his lips and kisses.

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, right before kissing your neck while his hands waste no time in lowering down your panties.

You’re breathing so heavily, your nails are digging against his back. You let out a yelp when you feel his fingers touch your folds, making him chuckle at your reaction. You just know that he licked his fingers before inserting two of it inside you.

“Oh, shit,” you moaned before covering your mouth.

“Nah, don’t even bother doing that,” he whispered. “Let them hear. They know damn well what we’re doing here anyway, so don’t even bother covering your noises.”

You nodded before taking off your hand from your mouth.

“That's a good girl.” you heard him whisper right in your ear.

You feel his fingers speed up inside you, making you squirm under his grasp. You tried your best not to let out a yelp or anything louder than the soft moans and whimpers that only he could hear despite telling you to let them hear. The mere thought of everyone outside this closet hearing you moan out loud is out of the question.

When you feel his strong arms wrap around your legs to carry you against the wall and straddle him on his waist, you cover your mouth instantly as his fingers continue to play with your cunt. One hand is covering your mouth while the other is gripping the shirt on his back. The faster he plunges his fingers inside you, the louder you can hear the wetness emanating from your pussy.

“Mmmph! Mmmh…” you tried your best to stop yourself from being heard outside the closet. And yet, it was harder for you to do so as you feel yourself getting closer. You had the courage to take your hand off your mouth and whisper—or whimper, rather—to the man fingerfucking you inside a closet. “I’m—I’m gonna cum. I’m so close—Mmmph!”

“Yeah? Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Cum on my fingers then, come on.” you can imagine a smirk on his face as he says those words with amusement.

Your breathing became heavier, the air between the two of you grew hotter as you're getting nearer and nearer to cumming.

You felt his warm tongue lick down on your neck towards your collarbone, leaving hickeys and bites to your skin.

Your toes started curling as you close your eyes tightly, that you were sure you were about to see stars as you get closer.

“Oh, fuck, yes—”

Then, with one last thrust of his fingers, just when you were about to reach your climax, the two of you heard a loud knock on the wooden door of the closet, making him curse under his breath.

“Hey, it’s been ten minutes, love birds! Go get yourself a room!” You and the man heard Gojo’s voice shout from outside.

What a cunt, you thought.

“I’m gonna kill him after this.” The man whispered as the both of you settle yourselves down. “Wanna get out of this party?” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yeah. I might need more of that.” you chuckled.

The two of you are sweating so hard after a heated makeout session inside the closet. You were sure that your hair and makeup is all messy as well as your dress so you would have to retouch yourself before getting out of this party with this man. You still have no idea who this was, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You just needed to let out your frustration after getting cockblocked by Gojo.

“Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here,” he says.

With that, he opened the closet door, already seeing dozens of eyeballs staring at the two of you, knowing damn well what the both of you did there. Some were blushing and flustered, while most were cheering for the man and you, and others were drunk as hell.

You feel yourself getting flustered and your cheeks heating up because of the embarrassment. You had never done it before where other people could hear you. Well, maybe others did hear you before, but then again, you weren’t aware of them listening.

“Hey, fuck you, Satoru!”

You eyed the man you were with inside the closet and when you saw who he was, your eyes flew wide open in shock, almost feeling your jaw drop when you saw his long, raven hair tied in a half-bun. You were just fantasizing about him earlier and now, you made out with him inside a dark, cramped closet.

“Calm down, man!” Gojo was being headlocked by a man named ‘Suguru’. You heard from Gojo.

Getou Suguru.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Suguru took your hand and walked towards the door of the frat house. Before Suguru could get out, he picked up his skateboard that was leaning against the wall. Just when the two of you were about to head out, he threw one last middle finger towards Gojo with a smirk on his face.

“God, I hate him.” he chuckled as he shook his head, his hand still in yours while the other held his skateboard.

You let out a quiet laugh before asking where the two or you are going. He said he knows a quiet spot where he usually hangs out.

An empty skate park beside an abandoned store. It was empty and quiet, only the crickets can be heard, considering that it's two minutes 'till three in the morning. There were few light posts surrounding the park, showing some graffiti on the concrete.

“Do you skate?” he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Truth be told, Suguru’s heart was beating so fast when he realized that it was you who he had kissed and fingerfucked inside a closet. The last time he saw you, he was just fantasizing what it was like to touch you, to kiss you, and now, he did. And when he did, god, he felt as if he could never kiss anyone else after getting the chance to kiss you. Suguru, being true to his intentions, doesn’t want to kiss anyone else after that.

You chuckled before replying, “Do I look like the type of woman who skates?” you pointed to yourself, especially to your outfit. You were wearing pink high heels and stockings with ribbons, of course.

“Could be. Who knows? Maybe you do.” he smiles before gesturing to you to come closer to him. “Come here. I’ll teach you.”

“In heels?” you almost gasped.

“Yeah, come on, princess.” he motioned you to stand on his skate while he holds your arms to help you maintain your balance as you stare at your feet on top of the board. “See? You’re already doing so good.” he praised, making you smile at him.

“I'm barely moving, Suguru."

“You’re getting the hang of it—”

Suguru’s words were cut off by the sudden fast motion of the board, which caused you to lose your balance and almost fall on the concrete, head first. Thankfully, Suguru’s arms never let go of you, giving him the chance to catch you.

“Easy, princess. I got you.” he smiles and then gives you a peck on the lips, making you awestruck.

“Oh, you’re so sly, Getou Suguru,” you mumbled before kissing him back. Suguru, on the other hand, never hesitated.

The kiss between the two of you began to deepen. His arms that were holding your body are now pulling your waist closer to his, the other, traveling on your back. The feeling of kissing the woman that Suguru admired for years now had never felt so euphoric. It was as if he would never have the urge to kiss another woman again except you. Your lips could never compare to the ones he had kissed before, and even those thoughts were suddenly pushed out of Suguru’s memory as he focuses on the sweet taste of your lips.

“Mmm… I want more… I want more, Suguru.” you moaned in between kisses.

“Yeah? You want more, princess?” Suguru whispered in your ear, his hot breath against your skin sends shivers on your spine, making you cross your legs in need.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hummed.

“Come on.” Suguru took your hand and led you to the back of the abandoned store covered by the large bushes.

“Wait, Suguru. Here?” you looked up at him, unsure of the place.

“Is there a problem?”

“What if somebody sees?” you asked.

“Then we’ll give them a good show.” he smirked before pressing his lips against yours again, making you lean back on the wall.

Your arms snaked up Suguru’s nape, pulling him closer to your kisses. His lips began to lower down your jaw, to your neck down to your collarbone. When Suguru reached your pink shirt, he looked at you, as if asking permission to lift your shirt up. You nodded, and the man didn’t hesitate to do so, showing your laced bra. Instead of taking the clasps off, Suguru only lifted your bra as well, exposing your tits and nipples.

“So pretty,” he mumbled before sucking on your nipples, letting his tongue swirl while his hand is massaging the other. Meanwhile, his other hand is rubbing on your soaked panties, making you moan lightly under your breath.

“Mmm… Suguru… feels so good,”  you mumbled in between your heavy breaths as Suguru continued to toy with your wet pussy while he took his time playing with your hard nipples.

Suguru’s kisses began moving down again, kissing your stomach until his face meets your pussy. He took one last glance at you before hooking your panties, as if he was asking permission to remove them. You didn’t hesitate to nod your head while the man quickly slid your panties down, not wasting a single second.

“She’s so wet for me, princess.” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but release a sudden yelp when you felt Suguru’s tongue on your folds.

Oh, fuck. He has a fucking tongue piercing.

It was as if your entire body shook because of the sudden cold that you felt through your pussy. Suguru’s tongue piercing keeps touching your folds as he continues to eat you out as if you’re the last thing he’s ever going to eat.

“Oh, shit… feels so good, Suguru. Sooo good,” you moaned. The back of your head touches the wall while your hands grip Suguru’s long hair, messing up his man bun.

Suguru couldn’t care less about him eating you out loud and continued to devour your wet pussy. The loud slurping and sucking noises that his mouth and tongue makes filled the supposedly quiet ambiance. The vibrations of Suguru’s moans caused your pussy to ache even more while your moans became louder and louder, that your mind completely forgot that you’re being eaten out in public.

“Shit, you taste so fucking good. Can’t get enough of you, princess.” he chuckled and continued to lap your folds.

When Suguru said he can’t get enough of you, he fucking means it. Suguru hooks one of your legs to his shoulders while his hands travel to your lower back to push your hips even closer to his mouth.

“Oh, my fucking god, Suguru!” you moaned while your hands gripped his hair tighter when you feel yourself getting closer to cumming.

“You gonna cum, princess? Yeah, cum for me, cum for me. Come on, cum on my tongue,” he mumbled in between sucking your clit and licking your pussy aggressively.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna cum, Suguru, I’m—shit!” your breathing became heavier while Suguru became even more aggressive with the way he eats you out. The slurping, sucking, and squelching noises became louder as he pushed your hips harder to him.

Your grip on Suguru’s hair became even tighter. Your legs begin to shake, eyes feel as if they’re traveling at the back of your head, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer that your toes start to curl.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum, fuck! Suguru!”

You tried your best to muffle your loud moans by covering your mouth when you felt yourself cumming on Suguru’s tongue. That was the first and only time you came so hard that you swore you saw stars.

“Ah, so fucking good,” Suguru mumbled and took one last lick on your pussy before standing up to meet your face. He didn’t hesitate to kiss you to let you taste yourself. “Good thing there’s no Satoru to cockblock us.” he chuckled before kissing you again.

“We’re not done, are we?” you asked and looked up at him.

“Do you seriously think we are? No fucking way, princess,” he whispered before telling you to turn back. You did what he asked and pressed your palms on the wall. “You’re on the pill, right?” he asked, to which you nodded as your reply.

Suguru smirked behind you before gently lifting your skirt. You bite your lips as you hear him unbuckling his belt. The man didn’t waste any time to pull his cock out, now leaking with pre-cum. A smirk curls up his lips as he watches you looking behind your shoulder. One of his hands is holding your hips, guiding you closer to him while the other is holding his cock.

“Think you can take all of this, princess?” he smirked as he rubbed the length of his cock on your wet slit, making you moan under your breath. You couldn’t help but release a whimper instead of answering his question, and to Suguru, that was all he wanted to hear and nothing more. 

Suguru released a sharp breath as he pushed his thick cock inside of you. Series of curses and moans came out of Suguru’s mouth when he felt your hot insides and how tight you are around his cock. His hand came to grip your hair, pulling your face closer to him and making you arch your back even more while he looked down at you. 

“You’re so fucking tight around me, shit.” he moaned before kissing you. The two of you shared moans in between kisses as Suguru pushed even deeper inside you, making your legs shake. You couldn’t help but release a yelp from your lips when Suguru suddenly thrusted inside of you.

“Nghh… so deep, Suguru. It’s so—ah—deep, oh, my fucking god,” you moaned. 

Suguru lets out a chuckle before looking down on his cock not even fully inside you yet. “You’re not even taking all of it yet, sweetie. Just a bit more, ‘kay? Think you can take all of it for me?” he asked, pulling you closer to him, causing you to arch your back.

“Mmm-hmm. Give it to me, please. I need it, Suguru, please,” you begged, almost teary-eyed while you looked up at him. 

He’s not even pushing all of his cock inside you and yet you already feel so full. That’s how big Suguru is. 

With one last thrust, Suguru pushed his hips even harder and deeper inside you, making him moan and release a sharp breath at how deep he is. He can almost feel his eyes rolling at the back of his head because of how good you feel, how tight you are around him, and how pretty you look while you take all of him. 

Your legs continue to shake while you try not to show your teary-eyes to Suguru because of how deep he is that you can feel the head of his cock hitting your cervix. You looked over your shoulder when Suguru released soft chuckles before saying: “Such a good girl, taking it all for me. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“I’m your good girl, Suguru,” you whimpered as you looked up at him with teary eyes. Well, he makes you look up at him. 

Suguru took one last kiss from you before thrusting his hips while his hand holds yours and the other grips your hair that is causing you to arch your back. The squelching noises and his balls hitting the back of your cunt was accompanied by your moans and heavy breaths filled the air of the scene.

Your moans became louder and louder as Suguru’s thrust became faster and deeper, hitting your cervix, which made your legs quiver and your eyes to almost roll back again because of how good Suguru is fucking you. You couldn’t care less about how loud you’re becoming and how intense Suguru’s thrusts are, that anyone who stumbled across the park would hear the two of you. Anything other than Suguru’s cock going in and out of you was out of your mind since it was the only thing that you could think of—that is, if you could still think.

“Hah, ah, shit! Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he moaned as he looked down on your teary, submissive eyes. “I could fuck you all night and—shit—and still can’t get enough of you.”

Suguru’s pace became faster, his balls hitting your cunt became louder as well as your moans. Your legs quivered more when you feel yourself getting closer to cumming again. 

You couldn’t think straight anymore when Suguru suddenly let go of your hair and held both of your arms back. Loud moans and whimpers released from your mouth as you feel yourself seeing stars again and your toes starting to curl once more. The fast pace of Suguru’s thrusts made your body move back and forth as well as your head. The hair that you took so long to style was now ruffled and messy and your makeup that took you forever to put was now being washed away from your eyes when tears started traveling down your cheeks. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Suguru! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum, please, please, please! I’m so close, so close.” you whimpered, almost cried out loud, making Suguru smirk behind you, his moans and groans became louder when he felt himself getting closer to cumming too.

“Yeah? Beg for me, beg for me, slut. You’re so fucking dirty—ah, shit, letting me fuck you in public.” he chuckled in a saccharine tone. 

Suguru’s sudden change of tone from sweet and caring like earlier was now replaced with a saccharine, almost mean demeanor, which caused your pussy to tighten around his length. Suguru couldn’t help but let out a chuckle when he felt your cunt tighten around him.

“Did you just fucking tighten around me? You like being called that, huh, slut?” Suguru released one of your arm from his grip and pinched your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker up while you look up at him. Seeing your teary eyes and messy makeup made Suguru hornier yet he can’t let himself cum yet. 

“Mmmph… ‘Guru, ‘m so close, please,” you plead. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so. Not yet,” he whispered before pulling out of you, making you whimper and cry at his sudden action. 

You couldn’t help but whine your frustrations out. You were so close and yet Suguru decided to tease you and toy with you by edging you when he pulled his cock out. Just when you are about to feel yourself cumming again, that’s when he decided to be a complete jerk and make you beg and cry for him. But that doesn’t mean that you didn’t like what he’s doing right now.

Suguru made you face him again, which you did. He lifted both of your legs up and carried you in his arms while your back was against the wall. Both of your legs are at the sides of his hips while his arms are under your legs, carrying it to position you up. You circled your arms around his neck while Suguru positioned his cock inside of you again, making you look down and whimper at the sight of your pussy taking all of him again. 

“Wanna see you cum, princess. Sorry about that.” he chuckled.

“It’s okay. I liked it,” you whispered with a soft smile.

Suguru started to thrust his hips again, creating squelching noises again accompanied by the moans and heavy breaths of the two of you. You tried your best to hold on to Suguru, not minding the hard wall hitting your back. 

You were never one to be too intimate with someone when having sex like couples do, such as staring into each other’s eyes and kissing while doing it. You find it too intimate to be doing those things with someone that you don’t have any intention of being involved with. But when it comes to Suguru, it was as if it’s natural for you to do such things with him. The two of you couldn’t help but to stare into each other’s eyes and kiss deeply as he thrusts his cock inside of you.

“So good, Suguru, feels so good.” you whimpered. “Wanna cum so bad, please. Please let me cum, Suguru.” you begged. 

“Yeah? Let’s make you cum then, princess.” 

Suguru’s pace became faster, hitting your cervix once again, making you cry and bury your face on his neck. His breaths became heavier, louder when he felt himself getting closer to cumming and this time, he’s not going to hold back. 

“Oh, shit, fuck, yes. Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, baby—so close, pleasepleaseplease.” you cried, making you hold your head back and hit the wall as you feel yourself seeing stars again.

“Cum on my cock, baby. That’s it, come on. Cum for me, cum for me, cum for me.” 

With one last thrust of Suguru’s hips, you felt yourself cumming again, gushing around Suguru’s cock that almost made your eyes roll at the back of your head and your toes to curl, legs caging Suguru’s hips, making him release his cum inside you. His cum made you feel so full and hot inside. Making sure that none of his cum is wasted, Suguru thrusts his hips a few times, deep and hard.

Suguru smiled at you before pressing his lips on yours once more. The two of you shared a deep, intimate kiss before he pulled himself out of your pussy, making you whimper one last time. Suguru took the initiative to pull your panties back up and tidy up your clothes. He clasped your bra and rolled your top down as well as your skirt. Suguru used his dark-colored shirt to wipe your now-messy makeup and comb your hair using his fingers. 

“There, all done, princess.” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Wanna get something to eat?”

“Sure, Suguru.” you smiled.

Just when the two of you are about to kiss again, you are interrupted by the loud ringing of Suguru’s phone. He took his phone out to see the caller ID, making him raise an eyebrow and shake his head, which caused you to ask who it was. Suguru didn’t say anything and just answered the phone.

“Hey, man! Where the fuck are you? Utahime is yelling at me, saying that I let you kidnap her friend.”

You couldn’t help but face-palm and shook your head once again. You took Suguru’s phone from his hand and said, “Tell her I just had the best sex of my life.” 

With that, you ended the call.

© FUSHIGOWO | 2024 REBLOGS, NOTES, COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED ♡

[anxious-lee]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: this entire fic was inspired by that one scene where Al threatens Husk in ep 5. it broke my heart to see him so utterly petrified so I wrote this as a hurt/comfort for myself

Warnings: mentions of Alastor's control over Husk, slight NSFW language but it's not actually sexual I just didn't have any synonyms for what I meant lol

Word count: 2,466

-----

When you're an Overlord of Hell, you tend to get pretty comfortable with staying in control.

Because one wrong move can mean the end of the line.

Husk knew that better than most.

And even now, after all that power of his was lost, he still found himself more suited to calling the shots in whatever situation he found himself in. It was just easier that way. If he could remain on top of things, then nothing would go wrong. Mostly.

That feeling of security never lasted long, though, because sooner or later, he was reminded of the terrible choice he made long ago. That he gave away his autonomy to the most psychotic demon in hell.

The way he spoke to him. Like he was so small. And insignificant. Like he existed purely for the bastard's own amusement and nothing else. Any input given was condescended to, patronized, and dehumanized. It formed an ugly little pit in Husk's chest. How little control he had once Alastor stepped into the room. It scared him, in a way that so few things did.

At least he had someone else to talk to who knew how he felt.

Speaking of whom, Angel Dust strutted into the bedroom, sporting a fluffy silk robe.

"Hope I didn't make you wait too long~" he whined seductively.

"Not long at all," the other purred.

The two settled down together in bed, soaking in each other's embrace.

Tonight was all about them, huddled together in hell's moonlight.

Husk remained still as Angel shifted downward until his head fit under Husk's chin, knowing just where to go.

He loved to be pampered, that much was obvious.

It was peaceful for some time before Angel's eyes suddenly blinked open.

"Hey. How come you never want a turn at being the little spoon? I'm not unreasonable, I'm sure we could share," he said coyly.

Husk didn't quite know what to say to that. It wasn't something that needed to be spoken in words. Husk dominated, Angel submitted (in more ways than one). It seemed almost absurd to suggest that Husk would be the one being given affection.

"Nah, I'm good. You look pretty comfy down there, anyway."

Angel, however, wasn't satisfied with that answer. He pulled himself back to get a good look at the cat's face, cocking his own head curiously. Who wouldn't want to be on the receiving end? Even once? It couldn't be understated how warm and protected one could feel in the arms of another. And Husk didn't want that? Did he feel pressured to say that because he knew Angel liked to take that spot?

"Really? You THAT much of a top that you can't play second fiddle once?" said Angel.

"I'm just not a big... "softy-cuddles" kinda guy, as if you already couldn't tell," Husk admitted, gesturing to his overall gruff demeanor.

Angel studied his face.

"Not buying that for a second," he said, punctuating each word with a poke to the chest. "Come on, you're missing out!"

"That's sweet, babe, but I'm-"

"Just five minutes?" Angel pleaded, holding five fingers up in front of him, "Five minutes of me cuddling you for a change. If you decide you hate it, I won't bring it up again. I just... you're always taking care o' me. I want to give some of that back to you, ya'know? You deserve it."

Fuck.

How was he supposed to say no to those puppy eyes?

Besides, it couldn't hurt... right?

"Fine," Husk relented.

"Yay!" His boyfriend cheered.

They rearranged their positions; Husk now farther down the length of the bed and Angel wrapping all three pairs of arms around him like a furry burrito. His knees and head also tucked themselves inward to cradle the cat properly.

It still made Husk a little tense, letting someone handle him so willfully, but the touch was too nice to deny for very long. Thoughts of safety oozed into his brain as his body relaxed against the chest behind him.

"See? Now isn't this nice?" said Angel softly, barely above a whisper, "For a man who supposedly doesn't little-spoon, you've got the moves down pat."

"I'm not making any moves," Husk mumbled, smiling loudly in his voice.

"Well, you're relaxed, aren't ya?"

In a way.

Angel peered down at the bundle of fuzz, taking in how much shorter he was in comparison.

"Awww! I never noticed how cute you were from up here." His hand began petting the top of the kitty's head, smoothing down the hair.

And there was that feeling again. The one that couldn't let Husk enjoy a good thing while he had it. The fear of releasing control.

"I'm not a pet," he grumbled, having no control over the defensiveness in his voice.

Angel, ever oblivious, pressed on. "Oh, but you are to me~. My sweet little Husky~."

Finally, the camel's back broke under that straw.

"Just stop, okay?! I don't-" Husk took a much-needed breath, sitting up, "I know being treated like a toy is your thing, but it's not mine. I don't like being talked to like I'm a pet. Like all I am is your little dancing monkey." It dawned on him just how much of all that was directed at Alastor. The words sunk in like cement in a lake, and he turned his eyes away, unable to look at what he just ruined.

Angel blinked. All of sudden, the moment had soured, and he had no clue why. Was it something he said? Husk said he didn't want to be treated like a toy. Is that how he felt? Like he wasn't valued? That wasn't what he was trying to say at all! It was adoration! Not condescension.

"What...?" Angel breathed.

"Forget it. Just, I'm sorry-"

"No! No, don't apologize," Angel interrupted, choosing his next words carefully, "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. It wasn't what I meant to say. I wasn't tryin' to say you were weak or small. I was... I was trying to tells you that I adore ya. You do so much for me and our friends. You look out for us, and protect us, and listen to our bullshit problems all the time.

"I think so highly of you, Husk. You don't take shit from no one, not even me. You're unafraid to speak your mind. You know how to keep your head when life gets messy. I got nothing but respect for you. That's why I wanted to do all this. That's why I want to pamper you with love and shit. Because you're always so strong, and I wanted to... I don't know... give you the space where you didn't have to be strong. Not with me."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Husk couldn't find the words even if he tried. He had never heard such meaningful things spoken about him. Him, the grouchy barfly. How could he possibly come back from such a beautiful declaration? Especially now with how foolish he felt. It had never occurred to him that accepting affection was an act of good, and not an admission of weakness. That someone could be trusted to hold him in their hands and lift him up rather than drag him down.

Angel could never be Alastor. This was not a hostage situation.

This was a security.

One that he felt that he needed in this moment more than ever.

"Fuck... I'm sorry. I messed up everything and spoiled the mood. I'm still not very good at this whole intimacy stuff," Husk sighed.

"I know, and it's okay. I can teach you," Angel cupped his hand around Husk's cheek.

Husk leaned into the touch. "And uh... thanks. For what you said."

"I meant it."

What did Husk do on Earth to deserve such an Angel?

"Look, if uh. Ahem. If you still wanted to... to do what you were doing before... you know, I won't fight you," Husk stammered, falling quieter with each word.

If that's the only means of permission that Angel can get right now, then he'll take it. He gently eased Husk onto his back once more.

"Good. 'Cause I still have lots more love to give you, sweetcheeks." Angel's iconic smile returned.

Even though Husk basically just admitted he wanted Angel to keep going, his praises were beginning to fluster him. The corners of his lips started to rise, and the only defense he had against them was to turn his face away from the man in front of him.

"You like it when I talk to you like that, huh, baby? Do you hear in my voice how much I'm crazy about you? How I'd do anything for ya? Cause I would~. There's nothing that you don't deserve," Angel said, scratching oh so lightly beneath Husk's chin.

Husk squeezed his eyes shut as he surrendered to his smile and tried to crush Angel's hand with his neck.

"It's true~. Because you're just the cutest little thing alive! Er, unalive, so to speak," the spider said, feeling encouraged by this reaction, and bringing another hand to scritch in the middle of his side.

Before he could stop it, a giggle escaped from Husk's mouth. Mortified, he then clamped his jaw shut, holding any more upcoming laughs in.

"You don't have to pretend for me, baby. It's just us here," said Angel, now bringing all three sets of arms into the mix. One pair was tracing his sides, another scritching either sides of his neck, and the last drumming their fingers torturously over his belly.

The giggles rose back up again, and this time shutting his mouth wasn't keeping them at bay. If he weren't so stubborn, he might've given in by now. But it was just too embarrassing.

Husk clapped his paws over his mouth, and while it did (partially) succeed in quieting his laughter, it didn't do anything to remedy the tickly sensations now all over his torso. He twitched and quivered under the touch, but with Angel hovering over him, it didn't leave much room for reprieve.

"This looks like it really tickles. I'm sure you'd feel better if you let all those laugh out!" Angel encouraged, "Pleeeeeease? For me? For yourself?"

Still, he didn't budge.

"Okay. I didn't wanna have to do this, but you've left me with no otha' options." Angel took one hand that was scratching his chin and took both of Husk's paws in it, holding them above the cat's head.

The effect was gradual.

At first, you couldn't hear a peep. Then, over a matter of seconds, Husk's giggles began to bubble up once more, fighting their way to the surface, and tickling him from the inside out.

It was over. Before long, there was nothing between the loving attacker and the melodic sound he adored so much. It started out deeper and huskier, much like his normal speaking voice, but with each passing moment, it grew higher in pitch; the kind of laugh he reserved only for his softer moments with Angel.

The spider took this as a sign to continue and deepened the pressure of all of his appendages, digging into the jittery muscles.

Husk couldn't even recognize himself anymore. He sounded nothing like the bitter old drunk he normally was. In its place, was a goofy little lovesick fool who laughed like no one in the world could hear him. He guffawed and chortled and cackled with reckless abandon.

"There it itihis! There's that gorgeous laughter!" Said Angel. "For a moment there, I thought you was bout to explode!"

The compliment somehow made everything worse. The helplessness of the situation was still there, the feeling of being small, but it was... different. Like he was small enough to be held in someone's palm and protected from all harm. It felt safe.

Husk's cheeks began to burn red.

Hopefully, Angel would be too distracted to notice.

"Aw baaabe! Are you blushin'?!"

Fuck.

As if on cue, his cheeks burned brighter.

"Am I making you feel flustered~? Does it make it tickle more?"

"WOHOHOULD YOU SHUHUT UHUHUP?!"

"So it does. Hmm," Angel hummed as he started moving his hands faster and faster up and down his body. Up his sides, then down his sides, up his tummy, then down his tummy.

It was maddening.

It was tortuous.

It was wonderful.

If Heaven didn't feel like this, he didn't want it. If salvation didn't give him the same amount of relief and safety and joy that playing with his lover gave, then it wasn't worth it. He'd stay in this inferno of hell forever if it meant he could stay with Angel. Stay in this moment.

The demon in question kept on with his teases.

"Who's the cutest little thing~?" Angel cooed as he noticed Husk jump when he touched the lowest portion of his belly, "Ohoho, looks like someone's ticklish! Coochie coochie coooo~!"

Just when Husk thought he couldn't laugh any harder, he did.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU FUHUHUCKING PRIHIHICK HAHAHA!" Husk snorted.

"Oho my gosh! You sound just like Fat Nuggets!" Angel chortled.

Husk's laughter was beginning to go silent, and started getting wheezier. This, Angel knew, meant it was time to stop.

"Alright, doll, I think you've had enough," Angel said as he released his prisoner.

As the spider removed his hands from his body, Husk started panting and giggling hysterically, still feeling the phantom sensations on his skin.

"Need some help there?" Angel offered, moving his hands back towards the other's belly.

Husk curled away from his hands, "Dohohon't!"

"I'm not gonna tickle ya, I swear! I'm just gonna get the leftover tickles to go away. Okay?"

Husk nodded hesitantly and revealed his stomach to him.

Angel's hands met his fur, and although it did jump at first, the firm pressure and massaging motions rubbed away the remaining tickles, just like he said it would.

"Dahamn. That really works." Husk breathed.

"Right? Now do you feel better?"

"Yeah," Husk sat up as Angel gave him room, "You know, for such a compliant gentleman, you sure do know how to take charge."

Angel swiveled to Husk with his mouth agape. "I can be a boss when I wanna be!"

"Heh. Sure, power bottom."

Angel reached for Husk's right foot (or paw) and skittered one set of fingers over it.

"NonononONONOHOHO! I'M SORRY, I TAKE IT BACK! I tahahake it bahahack! Hehehehe!"

"Uh huh. That's what I thought," Angel stopped and huffed with a wink, nothing but kind love behind his eyes, "So. You ready for bed?"

"After all that laughing? Hell yes I am. I might even sleep through tomorrow." Husk said tiredly.

Angel chuckled, sidling up behind Husk and gently cacooning his arms around him again.

"This okay?"

Husk sighed.

"It's perfect."

-------

Wooh! That was a rollercoaster! 😅 Hope the people that wanted lee!husk enjoyed this fic 🫶

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Can you maybe tell us how the boys had experiences in sex and how much they had it before they meet the reader? Or if they are still virgins 🥲

Thinking the boys with another people and showing their dingdong wants me to punch the wall 🤺

Omg same tho🥹 apologies, these are kind of short!

141 + König & Alejandro Past Experiences With Sex /General Sex HCs

Warnings: sexual references

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon Ghost Riley-

While Simon isn't inexperienced, he was never one to sleep around randomly

Is one who takes sex rather seriously, as it's giving an intimate part of himself away to someone, so he has had maybe 2 or 3 partners before you

Firmly believe he is one who won't have sex with someone right off the bat. Needs to get to know you on a deeper level before initiating anything sexual

His first time was when he was 19, with someone whom he'd known since childhood

He always takes his time during sex, was never a fan of quickies, and wanted to make sure both he and his partner found their release

Has had a raging side kink since the first time he's had sex, but isn't always very open about it

Will not tell you about his previous sexual experiences. He may tell you how many he's been with if you ask, but he wants that part of his life to stay buried

Has never, and WILL never bring any type of pain into the bedroom. He's had too much trauma to bring anything like that into something so vulnerable for him

When he has sex with you for the first time, he knows in that moment you've ruined him for anyone else. You will be it for him.

König-

König was a virgin before you.

He's never been against sex, he's just too self-conscious and anxious to even try to initiate it, and he hasn't truly found anyone he's comfortable enough with to give that part of himself

That's not to say he's completely inexperienced, though.

He's performed and received oral and partook in other forms of foreplay. He's just never taken the full leap

Firmly believe this man does watch porn though, so he knows well enough what he's doing

Even given his lack of experience, his first time with you is incredible for you both, and he greatly surprises you with his skills

Will take him awhile to get comfortable enough to go all the way with you, it won't be immediate

Will be very conscious of his size when you first have sex together, and it takes a few times together in order for his worries to he eased

John Price-

The man is quite experienced, but sex isn't really ever at the top of his priority list

He doesn't keep track, but if he did, he'd say he's had anywhere from 10 or so partners

Lost his virginity to his high school sweetheart at 16

He is always very smug when he has sex. He knows he's good at it

But he always pays attention to his partners needs first, before his own

Always leaves them wanting more. The man has broken a lot of hearts in his younger days

Unless it's with someone he truly loves, he views sex as a form of release for both him and his partner and doesn't put too much thought into it

Man was and always will be a dom in bed. Very, very rarely does he let his partner take control

Will tell you about his previous experiences if you ask, but doesn't understand why you'd want to know

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Average" sex life. He has had a few partners throughout his life, and he's had sex mostly with partners he's in a relationship with

His first time was with the person he first had a relationship with, when he was 17.

Fairly vanilla with his sexual experiences, he's never really felt comfortable with exploring too much in the bedroom

He hasn't had any partners who've pushed him past what he's comfortable with, but he'll be open if you want to try new things with him (man is whipped for you)

Somewhat shy about telling you about his previous experiences. He's the type of guy that all of that is in the past, and he'd rather focus solely on you.

Surprisingly very experienced with oral, his skills are God tier

Gentleman, through and through, makes every partner he's ever had feel special

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

He sleeps around quite a bit but is always an ABSOLUTE gentleman about it, and is always very safe

Makes it a habit to get tested after each partner he sleeps with

Honestly, he won't have a number for you if you ask him how many people he's slept with. It's not something he consciously kept track of

I stan he lost his virginity at 14-15

Johnny has always had a high sex drive, so whenever he's stressed, happy, sad, you name it, he's looking for sex

Not against one night stands or friends with benefits situations, but ultimately prefers a relationship with the person he's sleeping with

He's tried pretty much everything, and isn't one to say no to trying new things

Will literally tell you anything you want to know about his past sexual experiences if you're interested in knowing

When you get a bit more comfortable together in your sex life, he'll start to tell you of his experiences in role-playing, and will ask if you want to try it

Alejandro

Another man who, while experienced, doesn't seek out sex that often, and if he does, it's only with romantic partners

Los Vaqueros has taken over his life, and before that was the military, so doesn't feel he has the time to devote to a serious relationship. (Until you of course)

Has had anywhere from 3-5 partners before you

He was around 23 when he lost his virginity. Never thought much of it when he was growing up.

Very, very romantic with his partners, always takes sex seriously, and always makes sure (tries to) to get his partner off first

Is open with you about his past experiences, but won't go into too much detail

He will make it known, though, that you are it for him. He's yours until his dying breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! These are just based on what I personally think the boys' past experiences are, I'd love to hear others' opinions as well!!🩷😊

[bruisedboys]

please write for tmr!thomas i beg of you

tmr!thomas x reader | established relationship, fluff and hurt/comfort, 1k words (set in the scorch trials!)

you, thomas and your friends find sanctuary from the scorch with the right arm. unfortunately, they don’t provide any sanctuary from nightmares.

“Are you awake?”

Thomas feels you shift under his arm. You’re curled into his side, arm slung over his chest and thigh pressed to his. He hums.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” he murmurs back. “What’s up?”

He feels your hand glide across his stomach and your fingers curl around his hip. It makes him shiver.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking.”

Thomas huffs. Typical you, keeping yourself awake for no good reason. “Stop thinking and go to sleep then, sweetheart. You need rest.”

You muffle a giggle in his shirt. It warms his chest all the way through. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re keeping me up,” Thomas says back, only half serious. “Go to sleep.”

Eventually you do as he says. These days Thomas always always has waits for you to fall asleep first before letting himself drift off. It makes him feel better about himself. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re safe and healthy and happy, but it’s hard when you’re on your own in a sick world, running from a government organisation that wants you for your blood.

The Scorch has been unforgiving, but you’ve braved through like you always do, never once complaining, always making sure the rest of the group are okay. Thomas thinks someone as lovely as you doesn’t deserve to live in a world like this. It’s half the reason he’s as determined as he is the find somewhere safe.

Well, you’ve found sanctuary for now, at least, with the Right Arm. You and Thomas are sharing a tent with the rest of the group — Minho, Newt, Frypan — none of whom seem to be willing to seperate from each other, despite the spare tents the Right Arm offers. It speaks volumes about where the real safety net is.

Eventually Thomas falls asleep too. He’s not sure how long he sleeps until he’s woken by you. You don’t mean to wake him, he thinks, but he’s a bad sleeper at the best of times, and he’s got a sixth sense for this kind of thing, anyway.

He blinks his eyes open sluggishly. It’s dark, but the campfire still flickers outside the tent, so he can just make out your figure. You’re sitting up straight, stiff as a board. Panic slices through his heart like a cold knife.

“Y/N?” He murmurs. He finds your thigh under the sleeping bag you’re sharing and braces his hand on it to help him sit up. “Baby, are you okay?”

Thomas’ eyes slowly adjust to the light until he realises, with a pang in his chest, that you’re crying. Thankfully, you don’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Everyone else is still fast asleep, and everything’s quiet outside the tent. Still, he doesn’t like the way your shoulders are shaking.

“Sorry,” you gasp. You’re holding your face in two clammy hands, fingers cruel where you scrub at your tears. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just—“

“Bad dream?” Thomas asks gently. He can guess well enough. He’s had his fair share, and while he’s not an expert on the human mind or anything, he can see that you’re pretty shaken up.

You nod. Tears splash down your front. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

Thomas frowns at you as he brings his hand to your shoulder.

“Stop apologising,” he says, squeezing you gently. His drags his thumb across your collarbone, soothing. He doesnt want to think about what you’d’ve done if he hadn’t woken up. Would you have suffered all by yourself? The thought alone feels like a bullet to his heart. “It’s okay, babe, really. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod viciously. Thomas makes a pitying sound from deep in his chest and wraps you up in a hug, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to encourage your head over his shoulder. You’re shaking like a leaf, your cheek damp and warm where it presses to his neck.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs to you. It’s all he can say, really. He can’t tell you it wasn’t real, because the chances that you had dreamed about something very real, and equally horrifying, are high. He strokes your hair, feeling a little useless but a lot sorry. “I’ve got you.”

Somebody stirs across the tent. Thomas watches over your shoulder as that somebody sits up.

“Thomas?” It’s Newt. His voice is raspy with sleep but he sounds concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Thomas feels something akin to a rush of gratitude for his empathetic friend. If anything was ever to happen to Thomas, he at least knows for certain Newt would take care of you.

“Yeah, Newt,” he says. “Everything’s fine. We’re good. Just a nightmare, I’ve got it.”

Newt hums and his lanky figure drops back to the tent floor. Meanwhile you’re sniffling over Thomas’ shoulder, your hands screwed into the back of his shirt.

Thomas can’t be sure if Newt’s still awake, but he doesn’t really care if his friend hears him or not. He’s past being embarrassed about how much he cares for you. Thomas draws back and takes your face in his hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you.

“Not really,” you whisper back. Your anguished tone breaks Thomas’ heart clean in two.

“Okay. That’s alright,” Thomas tells you, as kind as he can when he’s up to his ears with worry. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, rubbing away your hot tears. He gives you a reassuring smile. “Do you want some water?”

You nod. Thomas reaches behind him to pull his metal flask from a meagre pile of supplies. He unscrews the lid and encourages the bottle into your hands.

“Here, babe,” he says softly. “It’ll help.”

He steadies your shaking hands with his own and helps you have a few gulps of water. When he returns the bottle to it’s place you’ve calmed significantly. Your cheeks are still damp and sticky but your tears have ebbed, at least.

Thomas smiles at you. He’s sure he looks sick with concern but he tries not to let it show, thumbing your cheek with as much tenderness as he can manage. “Let’s lie down, yeah? C’mon, sweetheart.”

He tugs you down with him. You slump onto his chest and push your hand under his shirt. You’re really warm, but it gives him goosebumps anyway.

“You’re safe with me,” he promises. It’s a promise he doesn’t plan on breaking, ever. He rubs your back. Big, rough sweeps that have you going lax in his arms almost instantaneously. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, and feel free to send more reqs for thomas!

[shaisuki]

Could I request Kaiser with reader. The two of them are partners for a project when he offers her a brownie he made, (one that he drugged), she was hesitant but took it, once she felt a little intoxicated, he took advantage of her, despite her trying to push him off, her state made her weaker and unable to push him off as he did what he wanted with her. At the end, he blackmailed her with the recording he took of him taking advantage of her

contested cravings

PAIRING. MICHAEL KAISER X CHUBBY READER

CONTENT WARNINGS. noncon + drugging, nonconsensual recording + groping and touching + kissing + blackmail + sabotage + penetrative sex + manipulation + cunnilingus.

SYNOPSIS. michael's is the bad news with his good looks and talent and the reason why you avoided him.

class projects aren't bad not until you're paired with michael kaiser. the school's star athlete and the resident asshole if you must add. have a bad habit of belittling others that pisses most of the whole student body and only hangs out with alexis ness. whom may have developed an unhealthy obsession with the school's golden boy. following him like a lost pup and would skedaddle if kaiser shooed him off.

you found the dynamic between them unsettling and how could ness accepted being treated like that. you guess is just how they express their feeling or to make the other feel good about themselves and you kind of really don't care, not when michael is your partner. his blonde hair is streaked with baby blue highlights on the tips and that haircut that suits him.

you instantly averted your gaze when you see him walking towards you and pretends that you didn't notice him. feigning interest in a book that you have read over and over.

“at my place?” he asks, smoothing his blonde locks. “s-sure.” you answered him. a little worriedly than you have liked and it looks like you were hesitant and regretting your action towards him.

michael paid it no mind. people acted around him like he was a real total assholes and he is and you were no different from the reactions people have shown him. he just gave you a smile and left you to your own devices.

of course, he have a room for himself. he's the school's star athlete and it comes with privilege including personal spaces. you texted him earlier and there he is. opening his door for you to come in. you gave him a curt greeting. “can we start now?” you asked him. the sooner this project is done the better. you really don't want to be alone with michael. “does my presence annoys you that much?” he smirks, eyeing you in such lazy manner that your eyes widen at what he was saying. kaiser chuckles at your reaction. “just kidding. don't want to waste more than time. make yourself comfortable then.” pointing at his work table. the books and papers and pens are neatly arranged. you didn't took him to be the studious type regarding how he acts in the general but you have judged him too early and mentally slapped yourself for thinking that way and you were still suspicious that he is too polite to you.

“what?” pursing your lips in thin line. you shaked your head. “nothing, michael.” he ignores you and sat beside you. already grabbing the needed materials and you both began in silence.

working with michael isn't so bad. he wasn't his usual asshole self who picks fight at school and insults someone for how they look and their skill. michael's behavior placed you in a dangerous situation with him and interactions with him meant to break what little self-confidence you have. opposite he was. he was so good at following up instructions and have studied in advance. it looks like it was better that you should both have split the workload.

“oh i forgot, i would be a bad host if i didn't you offer you some food. i've gotten brownies in that newly opened bakery.” he said, taking off his round glasses he was wearing while you both worked. michael screams like he comes from old money from how he acts and it was totally out of character for him to offer you some refreshments.

he placed a tray of food in the table. consisting of various sweet treats and some drinks. “pick what you want, sweets.” the nickname made you cringed cause michael is really acting nice to you. something's very off at this whole situation. looking at the assortment of sweets in the tray. you hesitated but the look michael is giving you told you otherwise. so you grabbed one and took a bite. “good choice.” he praises you before grabbing a treat for himself.

the brownie's good. the chocolatey goodness melting in your mouth, bursting with flavor. you hum in delight to show your appreciation for the good food and michael nods. smiling a bit and slowly chews. you just only ate one. afraid that he'll comment something and you would rather die than have him say something. it took awhile before you both decided to pick up what's left of the work.

strangely, you have never been feeling so lightheaded before followed by a strange pounding on your head. you grasp the pencil you were holding and it only rolls away from you. you try grabbing it again and it feels like you were holding air. “is something wrong, (y/n)?” you follow the sound of the direction of the voice. why was kaiser is blurry to your vision. did h-he? you were unable to finish your muddled thoughts and even in such state you feel his lips to yours.

your lips is what he imagined to be. soft and plump with the right touch of sweetness. thanks to the brownies. heh. it wasn't really he brought. he put an effort to it just to have what's in front of him. the drug that ness brought him did work just like how he wanted it. you were still conscious and a bit aware of everything but is unable to do anything but he is quite surprised that you were still able to move a bit even it was just an attempt to push him off.

“i can't have you pushing me. i really worked for this.” is what you heard before you are being pushed slowly in his bed.

when you laid there in his bed. michael admires you like he was a painter of his greatest masterpiece. looking like some baroque period painting coming to life while your body's is temporarily incapacitated. his efforts have bore results and he's about to sow.

he begins to strip you. quite annoyed from the layers of clothing you wore. he knows it was fully intentional. not wanting to be called a slut nor a prude by him. he knows his harsh and he likes people when they cry and you were no exception of it. he could have bullied you. break you and pull you apart until you were left nothing but michael withstood all the desires of it cause he wanted you like this. helpless and needing of him.

his palms slowly glides through the expanse of skin. you were the definition of what he deemed perfection in his eyes. your perfectly fit in his and he was about to mold you from his very own hands. he can see the tears pricking in your eyes. glistening as you helplessly watch him defile you.

kaiser never liked giving and receiving. he only takes but what's between your legs leaves him hungry for it. the plushness of your fat pussy drooling with slick is enough to drive him crazy so he did what he did. giving your fat pussy a lick and he was hooked immediately. he continued to devour your pussy until he was satisfied besides his cock is really needing some relief and it was painful. he just found the right place to stick it on.

it was only the tiniest of moans and gasps coming from you but he sure enjoyed it. a symphony being composed and is a music to his hears he won't get tired of listening to. he grabbed and bite whatever his hands and mouth can get to. you were so fucking supple and divine. fitting for an emperor like him. the way your body jiggles and ripples with his very thrusts leaving him grunting and growling for more. your fat pussy is deliciously wrapped around his fat cock that it leaves a drooling mess to your cunt. he already has cummed many times and it squelches with every thrust along with your pussy. his cum being deposited inside of you.

michael glances at the clock. the night is still young and he was going savor all of it until the morning comes. he continues to assault your abused cunt. smiling to himself at the direction of where his phone is currently placed. he needs to commemorate this special occasion.

you were sore. your body screaming in pain while you grab the pieces of your clothing besides you. the tears uncontrollably running down your cheeks while you scramble to get your things and leave this hell hole that was michael's room. “why are you crying?” he asks, sipping a cup of coffee. dressed in his robe and his reading glasses resting in the tip of his nose. “fuck you, michael.” you seethed at the blonde. michael chuckles. “strong words coming from you.” he added.

you were about to grab the last belonging of yours before he interrupts you. “i believe you have a favor to ask me.” your eyes widens. he shows you a video of him repeatedly fucking you. putting you in different positions. “don't you dare, michael.” you warned him. “you fucking raped me, you son of a bitch.” michael didn't really like the tone of your voice and it just triggered something to him. he stands up and made his way to you. grasping your soft jaw in a tight manner. he forces a smile. “oh, i really am.” he taunts you. his blue eyes is filled with storm inside them. “defy me and you're getting this video leaked.”

“what the fuck you want?”

“watch your tone.” he warns before smiling.

“be mine and i'll let this thing disappear like it didn't happen.”

“fuck no.”

“oh really, such a shame. you were enjoying it. see?” he really made it look like you were having the best night of your life. he wipes the tears on your round cheeks.

“good.” he whispers. seeing the look in your face and it left him triumphant.

“don't leave. we really ain't done. i am still starting to enjoy it.”

[cologona]

The thing about Bruce making Dick Robin is that it can be read as empathy. Bruce and Dick both lost their family in the same way, and so Bruce tries to help Dick by giving him what he wanted as a young orphan. Justice, closure, power, meaning. Something to make the world right again, some way to move forward, someone who understands.

But that same reading is not as easy to apply to Jason

If I were to read Bruce in a particularly unflattering light, I'd say Bruce fundamentally saw Jason as more expendable than Dick. He was so afraid of losing Dick that he totally sabotaged that relationship, but he's fine with this much younger kid playing the same dangerous role? Jason is a tough street kid sure sure, but is he tougher than 18 year old Dick motherfucking Grayson??? No.

If I were to read Bruce in a more sympathetic light, I'd say that in Bruce's mind orphan = craving-for-justice-that-can-only-be-satiated-with-vigilantism, and since he found out Jason's father was dead he was trying to give Jason the same guidance and empowerment Dick got. He genuinely thought it would work. He did this at the same time that he was actively hiding the death of Jason's father, because this intense self-projection is happening at the subconscious level. He simultaneously wants to comfort the orphan and prevent the orphan from becoming "real" by hiding the truth. It is not logical but it is well-meaning.

(This self-projection is also the source of Bruce's bizarre assertion that Jason has anger issues- he isn't a classist asshole he's just sensitive! 👉👈)

Either way, there is clearly an instability to the concept of Jason's Robin. Batman and Robin requires suspending one's disbelief about child soldiers to degree higher than other superheroes, but there's not quite enough to support that suspension here.

Because how exactly is being Robin supposed to help Jason? What about Jason's supposed anger issues lend themselves to being helped by vigilantism? Jason could've just been Bruce Wayne's son, so why is he also Robin?

...Would Jason have just been Bruce Wayne's son?

I.. don't think so. I don't think Bruce adopted him just to offer a good home- not really. Bruce certainly wanted Jason to have a good home, but that's what sending him to Ma Gunn's school was supposed to be. Ma Gunn didn't work out sure, but it's not like she was the only option. Bruce could've just done more research the second time around. If Jason had rejected becoming Robin, would Bruce have still adopted him? If Batman had not intended for Jason to become involved with hero work, could you see him still sending Jason off to Wayne Manor to be adopted?

Bruce didn't just want a son, or even just a Robin. He wanted something specific- he wanted the feeling of having Dick back. Bruce praises Jason for how similar he is to Dick in his head, and based on Alfred's warning and Jason's own behavior, he apparently compared Jason to Dick quite a bit during training. When Dick himself eventually comes to confront Bruce about why there's another Robin, he pretty much lays it bare: Jason is Robin because he missed Dick. That's the core of it.

Now on one hand this is flattering for Jason! It means he was chosen for the Robin mantle because he demonstrated the good qualities similar to the original. In another universe maybe Jason Todd's Robin isn't the angry one or the dead one, maybe he got to develop and he could've become the Robin that came from sharing laughter and life rather than grief. A Cinderella? A little lotus boy.

On the other hand that's not the universe we live in and this reason has absolutely fuck-all to do with Jason.

As for Tim, parentification is straight up the basis of his Robin. It’s impossible to read his “Batman needs Robin” spiel without reading it as a meta statement because in-universe it’s just an extremely frgiggi depressing scenario.

I think Dick might be the only person for whom Bruce's intense self-projection kinda worked out. Not that their relationship was good, but the core of it was okay? Cassandra comes close but Bruce sorta… lives out his dreams of being all-Batman all-the-time through her. He pushed his bad impulses onto her and she didn’t understand the value of not being Batman so it came off really creepy. He was encouraging her to rely him. Like a tool.

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon comes to comfort you.

Warnings: drama, angst because of reasons; fluffy though because we love writing fluffy Aegon. Long post.

***

What a strange bond you and the lord Aegon share. As the daughter of Ser Gwayne of House Hightower, you were raised as part of the Targaryen family since you could remember—but comparison, implicitly as it was, was always there.

You always aimed to please so what else could you do if not doing as told? You were raised to be like your royal aunt but your sweet nature prevented to emulate her flaws. Indeed your wit was as sharp as knife and your tongue could ricochet when provoked, but only your looks could tell what were you doing amidst an incestuous family.

Nevertheless, against all odds you did get well with them. How could it not be? You were raised with your cousins, but it was Aegon who climbed your walls and knocked them out.

Though he’s expected to marry his sister, it’s you whom he follows everywhere. There are whispers at court, but, as you told your aunt once, where there are tongues, words will be spoken.

Yet… now you are a young woman, in an age close to marry. You have no dragons to ride and all you can brag is about winning Aemond over poetry competition.

At times you are next to Helaena, but you feel outshone by your sweet cousin.

What is this, what is this that torments me so?

You have demons to fight underneath your mask of duty and you do not like when they crave their claws on your flesh. So today you withdraw, certain that no one is going to notice your absence.

When you do so, melancholy has you on its trap. You are swallowed by it, there staying whilst your footsteps automatically sway out of their view. You dissociate, rewinding the times you disappointed every one you know.

Perhaps what is worse is the day Princess Helaena and Prince Aegon’s betrothal is announced. You found yourself wishing to be in her shoes, the perfect Princess.

Disgusted by mundane sentiments you are suffocated when confronted by your imperfections. You need some air. Perhaps the gardens will offer some solution.

Barefoot, your Hightower curls are blown off your head the more you run into the labyrinth of green towers of leaves and pomades. Tears roll out, uninvited, as if the grip around them is now loose. Because at the center of this rarely visited labyrinth lies a cold stoned bench where you sit and burst into silent, painful tears.

*

Even a merry prince as himself needs some moment to himself. Regardless of how fearful he is of loneliness—which is usually mistaken as a moment of fragility—, Aegon feels in the air that not all is well as it should.

It takes no more than a few minutes to notice the lady Y/N Hightower’s escape of the court. He sighs. Thus the recollections begin as the silver haired Targaryen royal retraces your steps.

I remember well, my lady, when we bonded. It was odd that someone laughed at my sarcastic remarks; that a relative would appreciate my fierceness, or even compliment my efforts in reading messy words.

Whenever I was faulted for not being hard working like Aemond, or when envy consumed my poor soul for being overshadowed by Rhaenyra, you stood for me. You held my hand, dismissed my fragilities and reassured me I was as good as any of them. You encouraged me flying with Sunfyre when I was anguished before the Strong boys. You never failed to surprise me, a deed few—if any at all—accomplished.

But I was so selfish…. When you fell, where was I? When you wept, where was I? When your strength was shaken, I failed you. I blinded myself because I supposed you and Aemond were too bright to burn. I whored because the idea of you led me to believe I was unworthy—as my mother often remarked that she found our friendship rather unusual, uncommon, unmatched: you, the perfection; me, the broken man.

Indeed she has been correct in her judgement. But reason often tormented me because I am too weak to surpass myself. Where there are obstacles, I see an invitation to encourage my sins; where there are defiances, I convince myself I lack capacity to overcome them.

I am not brave. No, my precious lady. This errant prince is unworthy of your affection. Nonetheless… I will rescue you. You will see that I am capable of loving, even if this means to admit I cannot be loved.

The sight of you in complete distress makes him rush his steps. Part of him is relieved to see you haven’t done anything imprudent, but another prays anxiously for whatever deity that he is not the cause of your atonement.

“Goodness!”, you almost cry out when you see Aegon. You stand quickly, trying to recompose yourself. “A-Aegon! I mean, my lord cousin.”

You try desperately to omit your distress, to conceal your anxiety, but Aegon sees through you. The prince holds your wrists and pulls you against him.

“Don’t. Don’t do this, Y/N.”

Still holding a hand over your right wrist, he releases his free hand to gently brush away your eyes, after lifting your chin so he can read the pain in them.

“We’ve already surpassed this phase, haven’t we? It’s long gone since that day where… well, where we had mutual accusations of distrust”, says he, pleased to make you chuckle lightly.

“True. We are not children anymore”.

The distance is short. Shorter than what usually is. You can smell his scent, which only infuriates your racing heart.

“Then why are you running away?”

You sigh. Something about his long gaze at you, at the kindness behind his lilac irises, at the soft smile on his lips… is enough to disperse your insecurities.

“I am not running away.”

It’s a weak protest, a lie that Aegon knows what it really means. He once used it to shy away everyone who dares to approach him. For some reason, this old tactic never worked with you. It is only natural that it has no success with him as well.

“You are not well. What troubles you, my sweet? Always the dutiful daughter, always the merry one of us all, the prideful daughter of Old Town.” He strokes your cheek once more. “The stories we created, the past I was part of… cannot be just that.”

“We forged a very good bond, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.” Then a flash of hurt crosses his gaze for a moment. “Is it what it is, though? A good bond is what we have?”

And just like that you set yourself free of his touch. Where there was warmth, now there is cold.

“I cannot… Do not make me say what I may regret. Leave me to my pain, to be tormented by my delusions.”

“I may be many of the things I am accused of. However, to be careless is not one of them.” Aegon takes you by your arm, forcing you to turn at him. “Tell me I am only a memory, that we are nothing.”

“I was always yours, cousin. But you were never mine”, you burst out what’s been killing you. “I am not Helaena. Nor a Targaryen can I be considered! What am I? Who am I? Somewhere along the lines I became what is expected! But I lost myself in the process.”

“I will not sacrifice us for duty!” He holds you against him, your frame tied in between his arms. You find the same anguish in his eyes, the old desperation that equals yours, an entire ocean of profound sentiments that invite to an inevitable drowning.

Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he stares back at yours.

“It pains me that I am not able to take away your suffering. Miserable is the man who cannot uphold a sword to battle his damsel’s torments. For years I accepted that I failed before the world. But when it comes to you, Y/N, I am not afraid of the dark. I am not that fucking cunt. You never left me on my own. Unworthy as I am, hardly magnanimous as others might suggest to make me their jest, you remain.”

“I am a sinner, Aegon. Filth with…”

He covers your mouth, impeding words to come out of your disgraced soul any longer.

“For years we repressed it. Nay, Y/N. Do not make us miserable anymore. I shall make you mine at the cost of all.” And yet when battles seemingly obstinate at the cost of your breakdown, he holds you close. “Come here. Let us leave this world, uh? I know exactly what you deserve.”

You stay there for a moment, taking his words as what you need to hear. What you need to heal. Aegon is your balsam, and this is touching in many ways.

The rogue prince, rejected by all of those who, by blood, are moved by this familiar pretense of loving him, is someone else’s solace. You, often the strong one, so sensible and reasonable, rely on his feeble, meek prince whose divinity is nothing but a mask.

Thus you stay. And he loves you more than he can admit.

*

Sunfyre seems to smile at you when Aegon gleefully takes you to him.

“Come now. He won’t bite you!”, your rogue prince beams at you. He extends his hand at you. “Do you honestly think this is a privilege I give everyone I know?”

His golden scaled dragon seems to huff as if to say: “Indeed, my lady. Do you honestly think I would allow anyone to ride me besides Aegon?”

You giggle softly. Aegon sees you blushing, the idea of enjoying a privilege few would ever do makes you suddenly shy. Your face is adorably pink, a great sight to behold when adding to it your loose curly red hair.

“Well?”

“I do not mean to keep you waiting”, you take his hand, enjoying the warmth of your fingers locked. “Thank you for having me, Sunfyre.”

The winged creature looks at you pompously, a very adorable sight that makes you smile.

“How can one not smile before the most beautiful dragon there has ever been?”, says Aegon, resting his face against Sunfyre’s forehead. “Heavens know this is just… unmatched.”

“You have a very strong bond with this one”, you observe, smiling.

“He understands me like no other”, Aegon smiles as Sunfyre confirms him with its own way of showing tenderness. “We belong to each other.”

“Indeed. I am pleased he takes you as who you are. It is what it should have always been.”

“Come now. Let us fly!”

You take the hand offered even though you are not dressed for the occasion. As Sunfyre opens its wings and begins to fly, his hands around your waist ensure you that you are safe.

“You may be Targaryen in your own way, Y/Nickname”, Aegon whispers in your ear. “But I prefer you being Hightower. It has a better ring to it, hasn’t it? Lady Y/N Hightower.”

You giggle like a little girl. Oh, once upon a time you dreamed of this moment. It is unique, indescribable. He is so close to you, carefree and merry.

His arms around your waist as he leads the way when pulling the reins of Sunfyre, at the same time letting it be leaded by this beautiful golden winged creature.

Wind blows your hair, messing it all the way as you fly higher and maybe a choked sound comes out of your throat. Adrenaline runs in your veins and for a second you fear you are about to fall.

“Trust in me, my lady! You are safe with me!”, Aegon chuckles quietly.

You can only nod. Despite the fear, you trust your guts, and delegate all the power to him. Aegon’s face is close to yours so he can read your expressions, the subtle change in your countenance quite clear. And yet when you relax, when your shoulders are light again, he knows the value of your trust.

Taking the opportunity to surprise you, he is bold enough to press his lips against your cheek.

“Oh, Aegon!”, you blush, batting your eyelashes timidly.

“Are you enjoying this adventure?”, Aegon looks so content like he hasn’t been in years.

When your gazes meet, you forget that he is promised to another. You are led to believe he is delegating his heart to your possession. Against reason, you nurture hope.

“More than I deserve. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Anything for my lady”, and even up in the skies he takes your hand and presses a kiss on it.

This time Sunfyre flies slowly, stable as it is up in the air. It is when Aegon takes his time to enjoy it with you.

“Aegon…”, you hesitate.

“Yes?”

He waits. When he does so, eyes are locked in a long gaze. He notices the color that paints your irises, the red that paints your curls, your long nose and heart-shaped face. Sweet features that mirror the kindness within. Your lips tremble and the prince is eager to hear those words.

Those three words that he too is eager to pronounce, tasting them for the first time in a lifetime of rage and frustration.

“I am scared to speak my mind.”

Aegon puts a hand over your chin, his callous hand moving higher to cup your cheek. To fight away the remaining shadows of your heart, right at the twilight, he knocks his pride down when choosing to be the one to say what must be said.

“Y/N Hightower, throughout these years my cold heart has been endeared to a new sentiment of a kind I never experimented before, often judged to never feel it because I was deemed unworthy of it. The root to my heart has been uneasy, I know, and yet you took it with the bravery of your gentleness.”

As the words come out so naturally, you blush deeper. You’d look away if he doesn’t make you stay and see the truth in his gaze.

“You, the very center of my heart, have grown more than a companion, a cousin, someone with whom I share blood. Nights grow cold without you, I sinned hopelessly because I thought…” Aegon sighs, impatient with himself. “All of this is to say that I love you.”

To his surprise, you cup his face with your hands and lock your lips with his. Right as the sun starts to go down, as the colors of twilight begin to paint the skies, every doubt is solved, every shadow dissipates.

It is a peaceful kiss, perfectly paired even if it starts sloppy. Sunfyre hums happily as if to put a soundtrack to this moment where Aegon Targaryen is genuinely happy for the first time in years.

“I love you, Aegon”, you rest your forehead against his. “Whatever it comes, never forget how endeared you are.”

He cannot argue when you say in such a sweet manner. You convince him that with patience and time, love flourishes.

And you stay like this for a while.

***

Aegon’s eyes are glued in you. Today you are dancing with Princess Helaena by her side at a feast that honours the king’s name day.

“Lady Y/N must be a witch”, muses Aemond out of the blue.

“What for?”, Aegon casts a frown at his younger brother. “Do not dessacralize her name like this, Aemond.”

“Oh. So you are far more smitten than I have assumed”, Aemond raises his eyebrows. “And here I was presuming you’d make her one of your mistresses…considering whom you are betrothed to.”

��Assume what you want. Lady Y/N is not a mistress, no.”

His brother cannot believe his ears. Is this an scandal in the making?

“You cannot be serious. Aegon…”

“What? All I can do is displease others as it seems. They are not content when I do as told. It is time to take my life with my own hands.”

“This will not end well.”

“We shall try and see.”

Aegon stands impatiently and moves to where you are. He knows all eyes are set on him: courtiers hold their breath when you come at his meeting. But what do they know when love is clear in the eyes of the Cupid’s victims?

Helaena, who knew from day one where this would go, smiles to you and excuses herself to Aemond’s side—which only served to leave Alicent astonished, but not entirely displeased since she likes you.

What indeed comes out as a shock is that Aegon has eyes to no other but you.

“We are making it obvious”, you murmur.

“Let it be so. I have no shame in showing my affection for you.”

“Aegon, but you are promised to another”, he sees the pain it comes when acknowledging this fact.

Hands are held and bodies dance when he says calmly:

“Betrothals are often brokered. It happens under uncertainties until marriages are certain.”

You cast him a long wide gaze.

“You cannot be serious..”

Aegon smiles at you in a way few have seen it. The dance comes to an end and he bows before you, lingering a kiss on your wrist without parting gazes.

“I am most serious in my intentions, lady Y/N.”

***

You are occupied with embroidery, lost in your thoughts by the time the queen comes to meet you.

“Y-Your Grace, my aunt”, you dip to a gracious curtsy, blushing as you do so, aware of the reason why she suddenly came to see you.

“No need formalities, child”, she gives you a small smile. “I came to talk to you. I believe you know why.”

As you mutter some answer, Queen Alicent is reminded of herself. You could have been her daughter had she been married off to a nobleman of a house like Tyrell. Not only that but some traits you possess makes her lament how she wasted her youth being a puppet to serve her father’s ambition.

Painful remembrances. And yet… you are tracing a better path than she ever did.

“I am not angry at you, dear child. I should have assumed any of this would result. To be honest, your grandsire was hoping to marry you to Aemond, seeing how similar you are.” Alicent smiles, clearly judging otherwise. “Well, Helaena was closer to Aemond than you in any case.”

“I have nothing to say against lord Aemond, my queen, but it is true that I am closer to lord Aegon.”

“I neglected to consider your sentiments in these matters much as mine were discarded by the time… Oh, never mind. It does little good to dwell in the past”, she now takes your hand. “Aegon surprised me for the first time. He is strongly decided to make you his wife.”

“Oh”, you cannot disguise your surprise. You have to put a hand on your heart as if to prevent you to pass out. “He actually means it!”

Queen Alicent chuckles at your reaction.

“I was shocked too myself, but the king and I are happy to see a change in his comportment. For which on behalf of the crown I thank you and officially welcome you to this disfunctional family, dearest Y/N.”

You laugh quietly. For the first time in a long time your demons are defeated and you taste a safe victory. This is not about comparisons anymore, nor to be gushed by insecurities. Aegon has helped you heal in many, many ways.

***

A few moons later…

“I thought I was not born for happiness”, you confide him right after you landed with Sunfyre.

Since the day Aegon and you were married, the king granted the newly weds a household so you could enjoy your privacy. Ever since this day, Springhall has been your home.

“Why would you say that, Y/Nickname?”, he holds your arm against him as you two walk side by side back inside. “Stealing from me the typical phrasing effect?”

You chuckle quietly.

“No, I mean every word I said. When circumstances forced me to acknowledge my feelings for you, Aegon, I never thought you’d correspond. I felt as if I loved a star too high to grasp.”

It is your way with words that move his heart. It is how these echo the sincerity with your devotion that bends a prideful man like him. Aegon stops the pace and turns you around.

“It pains me that you have gone through difficult months, withdrawn to a heavy pressure of expectations your mother and father laid on you. Even more that I disappointed you with my wayward manners”, he takes your fingers and kisses each for a long time.

Summer breeze blows his hair, and you seem to notice this day he is not dressing dark shade of green, but a light one instead, which matches yours.

“We tend to get lost in our way when we are not properly guided, I’m afraid. But I cannot excuse my past, when I was given the chance to write a better future. Your unending loyalty to me, Y/N… Gods. I could list to all of your virtues that charmed me… In fact, let me do it.”

He keeps his words. Your self esteem has never been higher. A man like him to praise yourself in this manner… Oh, how many skeptical persons would have mocked this possibility?

To be loved like a fair damsel in these stories you read is a reality you’ve thought impossible. You knew your dreams were prompted to be sacrificed by the duties to serve your family, but alas! The impossible is now possible!

“What a joy you give me to be your wife”, you say more tearful than you know.

“You are my heart’s queen, my heart’s gleam, light of my life, my sun and stars. I am devoted to you until the last breath of this body.”

You take his hands and plants a kiss on each, holding his fingers firmly as you look at him with a spark in your gaze.

“My best beloved, I could not find happiness elsewhere but with you. My soul rejoices when yours is close to mine, when day and night I can love you right. Oh, you light my life and lead the way to Seven Paradises!”

“My poetess!”

And saying so, he kisses you under sunlight.

***

• Epilogue.

Prince Aegon’s marriage has not only proven to be a great surprise to many and a true delight to all, but in many ways it was scandalous too.

Specially because he formally abdicated of his rights to the crown to spend his lifetime with you. By giving these to his younger brother, Aemond, well… Ser Otto Hightower might have to adjust his plans. And your sweet demeanor makes it difficult to be blamed for such a decision. Besides, you found in your father a good supporter at court so all is well that ends well.

Before the great series of events that are coming, you give Aegon a number of children to occupy yourselves to. These are:

1. Aegon, named after his father.

2. Rhaena, his twin.

3. Alysanne.

4. Daena.

5. Daeron.

6. Jaehaerys.

7. Maekar.

8. Daenys.

And two miscarriages. What is intriguing is that by the time King Viserys’ death, you and Aegon are found living your lives quietly in Essos.

So when war comes, Aemond starts to question himself.

Where is Aegon? Can he be counted on for this war? Or should he better be left in his domestic affairs?

But these speculations run out of this scope. Besides, it’s not as if Aegon and Y/N Targaryen would pose any danger to Aemond and Helaena’s inheritance… Right?

Whatever it is, some things are better left unsaid. And you and Aegon content yourselves with this very peaceful scenario…

[lxdymoon0357]

Soooooo....yandere ji-hyeok and yandere ji-woj from marry my husband?

(Of-course, apologies if it's a bit rusty...)

Yandere!Ji-hyeok, Ji-won X Reader HCs

Yu Ji-hyeok

⊷ Okay, let's start with the fact that maybe he found with playing with the Pang and was immediately enamored with you, your personality, your caring nature, your beauty and introduced himself to you and took the kitty home hoping to see you again the next day..

⊷ Now it depends, if you came everyday after that, he would slowly build a bond with you and get your number and become one of your close friends, and if you didn't come like Jiwon..then he would still visit everyday hoping to see you bringing Pang with him!

⊷ Jihyeok, though definitely have a strong enough family is very much cared for you, he was always scared something will happen and the paranoia was horrible for his condition..he wouldn't sleep or anything, Huiyeong got annoyed at this and she agreed to be your friend to keep tabs on you for him so he gets his rest..

⊷ Jihyeok is never one to use his power as the grandson of a huge chairman, but for you, he definitely uses it to his advantage, like having you get into his sector, having you work side-by-side with him or Huiyeong!

⊷ Would never let Minhwan or Sumin get near you, oh hell no..He has seen those two hurt Jiwon, so he helped his friend and he knows those two will try to get close to you as well..he's not going to allow that!

⊷ Makes sure you're with him AT ALL TIMES!! He cannot stand being away, he will hold your wrists tightly (a bit too tightly at times..) and has a hand on your waist if he can't hold your hand...he just gets paranoid when you're not around....Don't ask why, he just does...worried someone will hurt you..

⊷ Needs to have you at arms-length at ALL TIMES! if that isn't possible, you have to be in his eye range, he isn't afraid to falsely accuse people you care about of serious crimes if it means you'll be under his control and under his embrace..

⊷ Huiyeong is also around you at-least 99% of the time, he has her gain your trust and tell him anything you say or think or do...everything is passed through her hands to Jihyeok.

⊷ Most definitely blackmails Minhwan and Sumin under the threat of revealing their crimes they committed to Jiwon and getting them fired if they even try to gaze at you!

Kang ji-won

⊷ Jiwon is more of a protective yandere so say the least...she knows people aren't the kindest in this world and you were with her since childhood and you comforted her when her father passed, when Eunho Baek confessed to Sumin and when Sumin overall embarrassed her but she was too dense to see through it...

⊷ Jiwon will makes sure any one whom she sees as a threat is somehow suddenly away from you or trapped in a very bad situation, Jiwon can pull a few strings...she's not dumb!

⊷ Jiwon cannot stand Sumin or Minhwan being around you, she will blackmail them and isn't afraid to reveal info to certain people..She definitely got Huiyeong and Jihyeok under her fingers to help her if anything goes wrong.

⊷ Jiwon doesn't know it very well, but she's a rather good manipulator and can use people's words against them, she is absolutely not afraid to manipulate you into depending on her or staying with her.

⊷ Makes sure you're safe at all times, has given tiny trinkets and attached some type of camera to it to see you at all times! She is also kind of a stalker at times to make sure you don't get hurt, she gives your...so she can keep an eye on you.

⊷ She will not let you be with anyone else other than her, she has been feeling as though she had been through enough and she will take whatever she deems she's worthy of and all that she thinks she deserves! And that includes you darling.

⊷ She isn't afraid to extinguish a life-light of one of your dear ones, by a little mistake of falsely accuse them of a crime...she is smart enough and has connections through Jihyeok and Huiyeong.

[peachetteprice]

heya, can I please request hc’s of how 141 boys would react to their s/o finding out they(141) cheated on their s/o (reader) . im in need of some angst 😭

Oh, boy.

Long disclaimer: this has been in my ask box since July, and I am well aware that it's unlikely you're still in need for angst. I quickly came to the realisation after working on it for a few days that I misread the entire prompt and had written for Price and Soap with YOU being the one to cheat on THEM (141). In my perfectionist state, I abandoned the whole thing, choosing to forgo the whole prompt even if it meant denying someone who was clearly interested in my work something that they'd asked for that I could (reasonably) provide. Nobody should have to wait this long for their ask to be answered, and I'm incredibly apologetic that I was so selfish as to leave it go stale in my inbox. Anon, sweetheart, I highly recommend that you search for another writer to fulfill this, because I'm sure they would gladly dive into the idea that the 141 are cheating on YOU, and not the other way around like I misunderstood. It is entirely uncouth for me to make someone wait this long for a simple ask – don't even get me started that it isn't even in HC format – and I can only apologise that even when it is 'out', now, it is not what you asked for and is my initial interpretation of your ask. I did not do it justice. You deserve better, anon. I sincerely aplogise.

Some of the Boys with Cheating S/Os

TW: General angst, adultery, mild aggression, mention of arson (mild)...

Captain John Price

Anyone knew it wasn't easy being married to a man such as John Price, himself included. He would have traded the life he had if he could, but he couldn't, nor wouldn't, because that wasn't the man he knew himself to be. Sure, in some perverted timeline, a thousand light years away wherein he didn't feel a sense of pride, responsibility, or accountability over the people with whom he shared his country, might he have taken that job as head of accounting he would have been promised, had he gone to university, or simply devoted his life to the blues and twos of the constabulary. None of it would have been harder work that he currently undertook, but it was honest work. And that was the sort of man he was: honest, dependable, and loyal.

That being said, much like the aforementioned, neither of those exclusive three things were easy to achieve. Nor adhere to. But when he stood at that altar in his pin-striped suit, pink and red corsage on chest, and spoke his vows to love you in sickness and in health - and, Christ, he didn't take them lightly - and you returned them, he hoped that you meant it.

And that wasn't to imply that you didn't. You did. Most ardently.

But the nights were long, cold, and unbearable without John. When he was back, he was often distant for a week or two, reeling from whatever madness he saw in the field. If he did make it back into his own mind, he was unlike the man who left beforehand. In fact, he would only return a few days prior to leaving, and then the cycle spun again. And again. And again.

He never spoke about it – the field. Never took a moment to cry in front of you – you heard him, of course you did, in the shower, when he thought you were doing the laundry – and if you did press him on the matter, he simply washed it away with a dismissive hand and a non-committal 'I'm fine, love'.

That might have been when it started. The distance. When the nights become longer, colder, and so unbearable that you needed something to warm the space beside you when he was away. That was all it was ever supposed to be.

John found the men's razor in the bin in the bathroom. It was your colleague, Mark's. He'd come over one evening to comfort you when John was away. It was supposed to be a bottle of wine and a walk home for him, but he woke up in your bed, and there was no stopping what had started, then.

There was no moment of doubt in John.

He knew it immediately; you had another man by your side.

He most expected it. That might have been the most devastating part of all. That, in sickness, he knew you might have longed for the warmth of a man to the point of committing adultery, even if you professed that your heart still lay with him. Even if he knew, himself, that it still did.

You knew he knew it, too, when he sidled into the kitchen with a hand palming his beard, and he placed the razor beside the pot of bolognese you were monitoring as it bubbled away.

"Got something to say?" He asked.

For some god-forsaken reason, there was no malice in his tone. He should have been near-boiling over the thought of another man with his hands on you – the body that he had sworn to cherish and to hold until the day he died.

But, as was the case when he took his vows, he did not take them lightly.

And though you sobbed, pitifully, and asked him to be quick with the divorce papers, so that you might quit your job and move somewhere else - somewhere less suffocating from the lies and the deception – John did not give up.

He threw the razor back into the bin. He sat you at the dining room table. He asked you to explain. Everything. From the very beginning – not since Mark, not since that bloody bottle of red wine, not since the gentle hand he placed on your knee when he should have been out the door – the complete, unabashed beginning when you first lost a modicum of care for him.

When you did finish speaking, the sun had come up. It must have been seven in the morning, but your eyes were so bloated, your words had torn such a scratch into your throat that you couldn't ask what time it was, nor even be able to see the clock on your kitchen wall.

It wasn’t pretty, the things you both spoke about, of the late nights spent texting John, asking if he was doing alright – to utter radio silence on the other end – as another man lay between your legs, suckling against your sopping cunt, and dragging every droplet of cum and sinful moan your voice had to offer, of the dissolved shared affection and broken trust that lined every sentence, of the nervousness as you walked into the pharmacy to ask for a morning-after pill, just to quell the shame you felt about having another man's uncloaked cock in your cunt, even though you were up-to-date on birth control that month.

But if anything permeated throughout the entire conversation, that cemented the idea that, if he hadn't asked you to be his wife, that someone else would have surely filled the role better than you – it was that he was not going to give up on you.

He'd given those vows as a promise, not as a suggestion. In sickness and in health. Till death do you both part. And you could have – and had – moped about how terrible a wife you were, how he should leave at the soonest possible moment and never look back, but that wasn't going to happen, so long as John Price was your husband. 

Because if there was one thing he would do, in every facet of life, perverted timeline or not, it was try.

For John Price would never give up on his lawfully-wedded wife.

John "Soap" MacTavish

There's a pair of underwear in the wash that doesn't fit him. He knows because he tried them on. They're initial-ed in sharpie on the inside label. JR. They're not his initials, that’s for certain. They're not his favoured design. They're not in the shade he wears. They're a lot of things that they aren’t and shouldn't be, like in the wash at all, beside your panties, one of your special weekend bras, and old bedsheets.

James Robinson, your pilates instructor.

It takes him too long to rack his brain before he happens upon the name, arriving at it after consulting your calendar magnet-ed to the fridge, spending the rest of the time thinking with them on the kitchen counter. He nurses a glass of milk as he does. It isn't right for alcohol at the time. It's only five in the morning, though if it were five in the afternoon he would have already taken the next bus to the White Rabbit pub and burnt them in the trash out in the alleyway, just to send a message to you to never give them back to the man who took you from him, when they better suited being strapped to one of his homemade explosives and thrown through the bastard’s office window.

The cereal you munch as he stares at you that same morning tastes sour. Seems like it’s gone off, but Johnny's drinking a glass – his third that morning – so you surmise it’s just about ready to turn. His eyes won't leave you. They often never did, particularly in the mornings, but not like this. Not with such intensity that your stomach draws bile from your liver.

The boxers are in the knife drawer.

You don’t know that the boxers are in the knife drawer, and if you did, you might have even fessed up before he had the opportunity to confront you about it. You’re a coward. You know it. He knows it, too. That’s why he’s waiting for the right time.

And when it is – the right time, that is – he digs them out from between the cutlery and throws them in your lap. It’s silly, really, the thought that takes the place of confusion in your brain. It’s stupid. Naive. Idiotic. Perverted.

"What was that for?" You chuckle, holding them up. Sure, if he wants that now, you're quite ready for it–

"–They're not mine."

All prior concern is embellished with fear. A gall builds in your stomach – you’re about to throw up, and a dry heave makes it to the base of your throat, a quick gulp forcing anything bitter back down. It’s simply foolish, how easily it makes complete sense. The nervous drinking all morning, the gaze that wouldn’t leave yours, the smell of cigarette ash on his fingers when he handed you the carton of milk for your cereal. And you think, oh-so naively, that there may be a chance to refuse his insinuation.

“They're not yours? Who else could these belong to, Johnny? They fit you, don't they?"

"Really? Seriously?" He bites back a disgusted scowl, you see it in his cupid’s bow, hunched up towards his nostrils exactly how it manifests in his nightmares, the scent of rotting bodies, dirty blood, unfinished business. "J.R."

You go blank. There’s nothing at all. You’ve never thought about nothing at all before. It’s a desolate place, the emptiness of your mind. It ruminates in your soul like footprints in a field at night. Who they belong to, why they’re there, why they’re no longer. There’s nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard, nothing to be felt – the trees are too far drawn into the night to be real; tangible.

"Johnny–" it spills out suddenly.

"–Don't you go sayin' my name with those dirty fuckin' lips!” He growls.

"We can – we'll talk about it.” Some things are coming to mind. Not many. Self-preservation related, mostly. “Sit down.” You wave your hands wildly. “I can explain everything, I promise–”

"–Oh," there was almost amusement in his voice, edging on the maniacal, certainly psychotic, "You take me for a fuckin' bampot, don't ye?"

"Johnny, please!"

He nears. He’s animalistic, right now, the way he's stalking you like a tiger who can’t pounce because you haven’t yet turned your back to him, and it wouldn’t be fun until you did. You've never seen that look on him. You never want to again, if he can help it, though you’re not sure he can. It's better suited to the field, staring down an enemy from close range, just before he sets a bullet straight through his head. A sharp fear rises behind the upset. It’s cold. It lingers like a needle beneath skin. It hurts.

"Get out of my house."

"What? Johnny?"

"I said, get out of my fuckin' house!" He swells with an uncanny rage.

Only when you do leave, retreating into the hallway wearing your pyjamas only, does he heave a breath or two that turn solidly into anguished pants, choked sobs and lonely wails. It isn’t supposed to turn out like this, sitting before the lift of your apartment complex, covering the guilt with the ruse of having lost your keys if anyone stops to ask if everything is okay, though everything is most certainly not okay.

James was a nice man. Johnny was a nicer one. But the quell in your throbbing, begging cunt from months of being apart from Johnny was even nicer when James indulged, tongue lapping over your folds like a dog wishing to please its owner. You told him you enjoyed it, even left him with a kiss on his cheek, and he left as soon as it ended, though you hid from him the fact that you threw up in the toilet as soon as you locked the door, sobbing into the same sheets he had you dribble your cum, wishing you could reverse time.

Johnny will never forgive you. That much is true. No matter how much you plead at his doorstep for him to reconsider the relationship – his mind is not so weak, and he finds it endearing that you seem to be convinced otherwise. Though, he does regret one thing – not taking your things, too, along with James’, to the empty lot behind the correctional youth centre and paying the kids there to watch it burn.

BONUS: Phillip Graves

Totally not because I feel bad about letting down anon... no way...

It's three weeks after the fact of your adultery that a text pops up on your phone, unattended, that reads something to the effect of feeling guilty about your time spent with a man for the benefit of revenge, suspecting that Graves, too, has been cheating, as you delicately lament to your best friend, Emily.

Naturally, he confronts you, and you know better than to lie to a man with an arsenal of juggernauts at his disposal, so you confirm his suspicions, and explain that it was by no fault but your own that you slept with Adam.

He’s furious, ardently so – justly so – and you explain that it was undeserved on both sides, to which he seems inexplicably confused, until landing on the understanding that you thought a woman you saw at a hotel with Adam was his lover. And you realise… he wasn’t cheating on you.

And the confusion compounds in your mind, realising his naivité of your illicit relationship was fueled only by the fact that you’d been attending book club at such ridiculous times in the night. He’s pacing, gasping for air as you rightfully say;

“I can’t believe you thought I was going to book club this whole time.”

And he stills, like a lamb, crouches against the dresser, and exclaims with such anguish that you wish you’d never said anything about it at all:

“There’s no book club?!”

| Masterlist |

[pearlofthesirens]

Everything's gonna be okay- Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

first time writing for a fandom omg might as well start writing for cod more. thank you to @xxshadowbabexx for this writing competition, i'm so happy to participate <3 summary: After Simon found himself waking up after another nightmare, his significant other reminds him that he isn't alone in this world pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Fem!Reader warnings: she/her pronouns used, nightmares, Simon's past, toxic relationship with father mentioned, slight cursing now playing: Until I Found You by Stephen Sanchez word count: 1193 words(one thousand one hundred and ninety three words)

"I wish you would've told me," "Told you what? That I get nightmares which eat me alive? That I've always been this fucked up?" "..that's not what I meant, Si." Hearing the familiar nickname slip off her tongue despite how he yelled at her snapped him out of the shaken state he was in. He turned to look at the doorknob, contemplating on whether to twist it open or not. It had been more than half an hour that he locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and making excuses to not come out. He didn't want to see her, not when she had witnessed him scream as he woke up from his nightly terrors and swat her hand away with such force. All she wanted was to comfort him, her gentle rubs on his face was all he needed at that moment. Then why did he refuse to open the door and face her?

"I want to help, Si. I want to be there for you like you have been for me all this time." He looked at himself in the mirror, the face he dreaded to see every day. He wore the mask for a reason and as much as Johnny pestered him for the real reasons, it had always been more than just hiding his face for safety. His dusty blonde strands and brown irises remind him of a bastard he shouldn't be thinking of. The bastard he took care of when he just had enough, the bastard who tyrannized not only him, but his dear mother and brother. His lover on the other side of the door seemed to be in love with all of him, the scars, wounds, bruises, even the face he thought he would despise all his life.

"You're more than your father's son. You're Simon, my Simon.." Simon thought of his mother often, Tommy and Beth too. Simon also thought of having a little critter like Joseph crawling around the house, someone whom he can call his. Someone he can raise with the love of his life. Someone to let him prove that he indeed did not turn out to be the person he had sworn to loathe for an eternity. Simon wished to have a family he would love and cherish. But he did not trust himself.

"Do not listen to the voices in your head, Simon. They're lying to you. You're worth it, you're worth the troubles. I'm here to help and I'm here to stay. Please..please let me in. Please let me help you, Si." Hearing her voice break was the last straw and he couldn't torture himself with solitude anymore. He opened the door very slowly, surprisingly avoiding the creaking of the hinges which much needed some greasing. He looked down to find her little face peering into him, her curious eyes always searching for something. Under her scrutinizing gaze, Simon felt the tiniest droplet of water roll down from his forehead to his lashes, down to his chin. Her hand took his, squeezing his fingers softly before she stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He let go of every insecurity and every doubt he had about himself, snaking his arms around her waist.

Dipping his head down and into her neck, he took the longest breath in and inhaled her all so familiar scent. Simon thought she never needed perfume, her body odor was so enticing and comforting to him that he'd rather not fill his nostrils with anything artificial. His arms tightened and he let out the softest sniffle, burying his face even further into her neck. He felt two small hands rubbing his back, running over the muscles he spent hours in the gym to build.

Before meeting her, Simon thought that crying in front of his partner was the stupidest thing possible. How would it look if a 6'4 military man was breaking down in tears in the arms of his little love? He was supposed to be a man, he was supposed to be the one providing her comfort and not the other way. But at that moment of vulnerability, his ego had been overtaken by the need to feel her close. She was the only one who would see through Ghost and not once judge him. "This..I'm so sorry, lovie..I-I can't make it stop." "I know, darling. I know. But I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, Si." Simon never once understood how she broke through the tough walls he had built, how she took his ice cold heart and warmed it up at the cost of her patience. She had always been so gentle with him, even when he felt frustrated and yelled profanities at her, not realizing that she was not one of the people who would disregard how he felt. She taught him how to apologize with words, she always reassured him that he could be gentle despite not once finding peace in his tragic life. And yes, he was gentle with her. He did apologize with words every single time he ended up saying something he didn't mean.

He had a ritual to calm her down when she was upset, the reason being him or not. He would sit her down on his lap, wipe her tears and place tender kisses on her forehead. He did everything in his power to not see his angel cry, specially not because of him. So why was it weird to him when she did the same? Why did it not feel right when it was her turn to show how much he deserved to be held and comforted too? "I'll tell you this again and again and again. You're worth it, Si. You're worth the stupid arguments we get into sometimes, you're worth the silent treatment, you're worth all the wrong things you've once said to me. You wanna know why?" He only nodded his head, not bringing his face out of her neck. "Because I see the change in you. I see you trying, I see you improving. You've gotten so much better at expressing yourself, you apologize with words, you think twice before saying anything to me. I know there had been moments you've slipped up, but that does not mean that you don't deserve love." And suddenly, everything she said made sense to Simon. He had improved, he tried his best to be better, to be gentler, to be kinder. To her and to himself. So what if he had said something he shouldn't have? He knew how to recognize his mistakes and appropriately apologize for it, he knew how to make up for his behavior. He knew how to say sorry without bullshitting, he knew how to admit that he had done something wrong and he knew how to fix it. And she had been by his side all the time, refusing to be anything but kind, loving and understanding. How could he not love her? "I swear, lovie..I ain't leaving you till the day I die. I promise" "I love you too, Si. Wanna get back to bed?" "Yeah."

proofread ✓ pearly venus, 00:44 240227

[theharddeck]

santa baby (been an awful good girl) // coyote x f!reader

pairing: javy coyote machado x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: coyote dresses up as santa + reader is only human = reader and coyote get it on in santa's workshop

word count: 6.6k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: unprotected sex, explicit PiV sex, a bit of dumbification, slight overstimulation, lowkey desecrating the concept of christmas but like in a hot way

A/N: i...i have no excuse. thinking of javy being dorky during sex has effectively ruined me. merry chrysler

The second Sunday in December was the tree-lighting at Miramar. 

The event entailed, of course, the lighting of the tree at the center of base, but also a crafts market, an ugly-Christmas sweater competition, and breakfast-for-dinner, but most importantly: a meet and greet with Santa. 

While it wasn’t required attendance for any of the Service members, most everyone who wasn’t on leave found some way to be involved. You found yourself at the cookie decorating station, trying to teach kids a modicum of restraint, and sneaking glances at your boyfriend over in Santa’s Workshop. 

That’s right, Javy Machado – distinguished Lieutenant, Louisiana’s finest, and your personal hero – was currently drowning in red velvet and faux ermine, dressed up as jolly old Saint Nick. His diamond-sharp jawline was hidden behind a monstrosity of a fake beard, but he had managed to master the twinkle in his eye. The night was winding down, but he showed no waning energy, just endearing interest in each and every child that made its way into the small structure. 

You could just barely see him through the front window of the Workshop, but every time you looked over at him, your heart fluttered. 

It was the way he hunched his shoulders, clearly trying to diminish his size to make himself seem less intimidating. 

It was the way he met each child’s eye, exuding comfort and kindness. 

It was how after a couple of minutes, even the shyest child seemed to relax against him, how their smiles brightened and their giggles echoed around the family center. 

You knew Javy was a total sweetheart, but it made you so proud to see how special he was making this Christmas for each of these kids, some of whom were having a dark season with their parents being deployed. 

There was a clatter and you looked away from the workshop to find RJ, one of Payback’s kids, looking guiltily up at you, holding an entire paper plate covered in Snowman sprinkles. The faint outline of a sugar cookie was visible under the blue-and-white pile, but not by much. 

Good thing it was only the ninetieth time this had happened today. 

“Happens all the time,” you said brightly, keeping your voice happy so the kid wouldn’t panic, and thinking of a diversionary topic. “Did you see Santa already?”

RJ nodded, willingly distracted. 

“He said he’d get me a Lego set!” he said, the slight lisp in his voice absolutely adorable. “A Lego set!” you repeated, folding the plate slightly so that you could pour the excess sprinkles into a dixie cup. “One of the Star Wars ones??”

“Yep!” RJ told you excitedly, his eyes widening, the sprinkles dilemma forgotten. “With an X-wing, so I can have a plane, like Daddy!” 

You finished pouring off the sprinkles, and turned the still-overly-sprinkled-but-now-recognizable-as-a-cookie plate back to RJ. He grinned up at you through a missing tooth and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Payback might be nearly as bossy as Mav when you were up in the air, but he did have damn cute children. 

You were halfway through helping RJ with a sleigh-shaped cookie when the Christmas music they’d been cranking turned off with reverb, and someone cheerily announced over the loudspeaker that it was time for the festivities to draw to a close. Overhead lights turned on, dispelling the ambiance created by thousands of christmas lights, but you were halfway through the cookie, so you two kept working on it. 

What were they going to do? 

At some point, Reuben came over with a couple wrapped packages tucked under his arm, giving you a grateful look for keeping an eye on his son. 

The only warning you had was RJ’s reverent gasp and the widening of his eyes before you felt familiar hands on your waist and an unfamiliar beard scratching your neck. 

“Santa,” RJ breathed, and you tried to delicately step out of Javy’s grasp as he realized he couldn’t exactly greet his real-life girlfriend while there were still kids who believed in the magic of Santa within eyesight.

Javy cleared his throat and you pressed your lips together to hide a smile as you watched your boyfriend stand up straighter under the boy’s worshipful gaze.  

“RJ,” Javy said, his voice pitched lower than normal, to disguise it, and you noticed he was avoiding Reuben’s gaze pretty determinedly. “Doing some serious cookie decorating, I see?”

RJ nodded animatedly, holding up his plate to show “Santa” and nearly tipping both cookies off it in the process. Reuben dove for it, and you tried not to laugh, leaning lightly against Javy. You noticed absently that he must’ve taken the suit padding out, because you could feel his stomach through the red velvet.

Unfortunately, when RJ looked up from his plate, he noticed your lean, as well as Javy’s hand on your hip. He frowned, his small forehead wrinkling, and he tipped his head up at Javy. 

“That’s Coyote’s girlfriend,” he told Javy archly. 

“Uh,” Javy stalled, and you again found yourself fighting the urge to laugh, “yes. And…that’s why I want to steal her away for a moment. Coyote’s been a really good boy this year, and I want to talk about what kind of present he would want.”

RJ’s eyes narrowed, and he was about to say something else, before Reuben gave an exasperated sigh. 

“For God’s sake,” he muttered, reaching for RJ’s cookie plate, effectively poaching the boy’s attention. 

“Let’s show these cookies to your Ma, yeah, Junior?” he asked, before turning back to you and Javy. “And you two– behave.”

He spun on his heel, and RJ waved enthusiastically to you before following his father happily, and you turned to Javy, smiles breaking over both of your faces. 

“Not your most graceful, lieutenant,” you teased him, but Javy was already looking around the recreation center. 

With the overhead lights on, and the Christmas music off, it was rapidly emptying. Teams had already been tasked to come in tomorrow to clean it out, so for now everyone was clearing out, trying to get their kids home before the sugar crash set in, and Javy’s gloved hand found one of yours. 

“Come on,” he said quietly, in his normal voice, and you followed him instinctively when he tugged lightly on your grasp. 

You were surprised when he led you back over to Santa’s Workshop, and you ducked into the entryway. 

It wasn’t a large space, something constructed of red and green painted plywood pieces, barely big enough to accommodate Santa’s throne. The throne itself was a replica of the Iron Throne that Fanboy had paid a preposterous amount for, and had been convinced to donate to the greater good. He had then had to be led away from in agony, as Army Wives sanded down the pointy edges, and repainted the swords as candy canes.

“Nice digs, Santa,” you said wryly, your sentence ending on a squeak as Javy pulled you into his arms. 

Kissing him with the fake beard was funny, but his mouth was distracting enough that you soon forgot. 

You melted into him as you always did, your hands pressed against his broad chest. Javy’s strong arms banded around you as he kissed you hungrily, like he’d been waiting, like he’d been missing you. He tasted like peppermint, like the candy canes the “elves” (Natasha and Jake) had forced on him any time he started looking bored. 

When he pulled back, you were breathless, blinking up at him slowly. 

Javy smiled at you softly, his own chest rising and falling underneath your hands. He was so unbelievably handsome, always, but you loved his sweet smile. 

Especially how it looked from this close. 

“Hi,” you whispered, and Javy groaned, leaning down to kiss you again. 

His tongue swept into your mouth, and your knees almost buckled, causing you to cling to his shoulders. He was so strong, so big, and you knew he loved holding you, nearly as much as you treasured being held.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, and you felt your skin heat. You were just wearing a festive sweater under a pinafore-style skirt, aiming for comfort and festivity over something that accentuated your figure.

“It’s just a–” you tried, but Javy made a disapproving sound and kissed you firmly, interrupting your rationalization. 

“Beautiful,” he insisted, after a moment, and you nodded dazedly. 

Javy hummed, approving, and he shifted to pull off his gloves. A moment later, you felt his index finger under your chin. He tilted your head up towards him, and his kiss turned gentle, indulgent. 

“I could feel you watching me, you know,” Javy murmured, between kisses. 

 You shivered when his thumb brushed over your jaw. 

“Hard not to,” you managed to say. 

Javy laughed, a low, warm sound, that you felt like a caress. 

“What is it, honey,” he teased, brushing light kisses up your cheek, and ducking his head to reach behind your ear, “the red velvet doing it for you?”

You let out a breathy gasp when you felt his teeth ghost over your earlobe. 

“‘Course not,” you mumbled, but it didn’t sound convincing. 

It actually wasn’t the red velvet. 

It wasn’t even how sweet he had been with the kids, which was pretty darn sweet. 

“What was it?” Javy asked, as he kissed down your neck. 

You shivered as his tongue and teeth teased you. When he reached the collar of your sweater, he nosed it aside, and sucked lightly at the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“The glasses,” you blurted. 

You felt him hesitate, and he pulled back, looking at you amusedly. 

“The glasses?” he echoed, and you tried not to squirm. 

“Well, and the beard,” you admitted. “Not the actual aesthetics, just, like, the idea of them…the idea of older you. Silver fox Javy, you know, graying and—”

With a whoosh, the overhead lighting in the recreation center shut off. 

You turned to look out the window, surprised to find that no one else was left in the recreation center. They had cleared out quickly and the large room was suddenly dark, except for the lights strung around the “roof” of Santa’s Workshop. 

When you looked back at Javy, his teeth gleamed as he smiled.

His hand trailed down his arm till it tangled with yours, and he pulled you deeper into the workshop. 

“Javy, we should go–” you started to protest, but you broke off when he sat on the throne. 

The twinkling lights cast a golden glow into the otherwise dark room, and even in the shadows, Javy looked so damn sexy. He shifted in the seat, his thighs spreading, and planted his boots on the ground. He still held your hand, and you really did feel like you were standing in front of a throne, a queen to his king.

“It’s just us, honey,” he said, his voice deep, and you were having a hard time coming up with a response. Not when he looked this good, not when he was looking at you like that, not when you could already see the outline of his hardening dick against the inside of his velvet suit. 

God, what a thought–velvet and Javy. 

Your mouth practically watered, and when Javy tugged lightly on your hand, you let him pull you. You stood between his spread legs, the throne tall enough that you barely had to bend down to kiss him. This kiss was impossibly slow, leisurely. 

Javy’s hands trailed down your body, settling under your ass as he pulled you closer to him. You whimpered as his touch pulled you flush against him, his body hard against you, and his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass. Your own hands ran over his chest, around the back of his neck, anchoring you to him.

His big hands kneaded your ass, and you whimpered against his mouth when he guided you slightly sideways, against where his dick rested on his thigh.  

You felt your kisses turn lazy as he overwhelmed you. 

His big hands, his strong thighs, his hot cock, his broad chest…you felt your knees weaken as the kiss deepened. 

Javy knew, and he pulled back, giving you space. His hand found yours again, and he led you from between his legs, before reaching under your skirt. 

His touch was slow, certain, as his fingers trailed up your thighs to your waistband, where he found the edge of your tights, and slid them down your legs. He went slowly, and you were grateful for it; your head was spinning and you didn’t feel like you could catch your breath. You watched as he pulled the tights down your thighs, prompting you to step out of your shoes first. 

“Here, honey,” he prompted, guiding you to balance on the thick toes of his boots, so you wouldn’t have to stand on the floor, before he peeled your tights off. 

That thoughtfulness, combined with the determined carefulness with which he undressed you, sent another wave of arousal for you, and you followed his instruction without thinking. 

His hands were back on your legs then, reaching under your skirt again, up and up, and you shivered when his hands ghosted over the front of your underwear. 

“Were you telling the truth?” he murmured, his voice low, and you pressed your lips together to trap a whine inside your throat. “Am I gonna find you worked up under here?” 

You weren’t sure until his fingers pressed between your thighs. 

And then you moaned, you couldn’t help it. Javy’s fingers pressed into your center over your panties, his touch collecting your arousal and you felt the drag of wetness between his finger, the thin fabric, and your skin. 

Javy hummed his approval, and his pleasure had you bowing into him. 

“Javy,” you whispered, not sure what you were asking for, but certain he would know. 

“C’mere, baby,” he said softly, pulling you into his lap, his hands not leaving your panties, but still keeping you covered by your skirt. He guided you over his thighs, your legs spreading to rest in his lap, and you immediately were obsessed with the feeling of velvet stretched over his strong thighs. 

You looked up at his expression, and you felt your heart flutter. 

Christ, he was so beautiful. 

His expression was one of intense focus, but the panes of his face were so gorgeous, all the more for the fondness between the both of you. 

You pressed yourself up to kiss him, knowing you’d stumble over finding the words to tell him. Javy’s lips were so soft, his mouth so gentle, and the hand that wasn’t under your skirt cupped the back of your neck. The tenderness in his touch coupled with the strength in his hands was a heady combination, and you melted into his arms again. 

After a couple long, sweet kisses, you felt his hands move against you. 

You broke away from his kiss, breath catching as Javy dragged a thick finger over your now soaking panties. 

“You’re so warm here,” Javy murmured, his voice almost reverent, and your hands splayed over the red coat, grasping whatever you could. The pressure of his hand and the deep timbre of his voice were enough to drive you mad, and he knew it. 

“You feel so good, honey, so inviting…” Javy continued, and he pushed your panties aside. 

You whimpered at the first brush of his fingers against your core, slickened by your arousal, and warm against your skin. Your fingers scrambled to undo the red coat, fumbling with the buttons until you had the jacket undone, and you could feel the familiar cotton of his white undershirt. 

It wasn’t enough, you needed his skin. 

“Off,” you mumbled, and Javy chuckled as you pulled weekly at the bottom of his undershirt. It took some maneuvering, but you got the jacket off, then the undershirt, and then decided the beard and hat – while they had their charm – needed to go as well. 

And then you were breathless for a whole other reason. 

“You look like a damn fireman calendar,” you told him, your voice somewhere between amused and chagrined at the perfection that was a shirtless Javy Machado in red velvet pants and thick black boots, reclining in a garish throne. You decided that indulging the fantasy couldn’t hurt, and you guided the suit jacket up over his shoulders again. You tipped your head to the side, regarding your amused boyfriend.  

“Some mom in New Jersey would lose her shit,” you told him honestly, and it probably should’ve made you jealous, but it made you just so damn thankful he was all yours. 

You watched Javy’s abs contract as he laughed, pulling you back to him, and you smiled as he kissed you. You loved that it was like this with him – playful and fun, as well as just so fucking hot. 

It only took a moment for the laughter to fade from your kiss, and Javy’s hand was back inside your panties a moment later. 

He pulled a finger through your folds and your head fell back at his tease. He gathered your arousal with his finger, pulling his hand back up to the top of your slit. He found your clit easily, a familiar path, and when he pressed firmly, your legs jolted. 

“You’re Coyote’s girl, aren’t you?” he said thickly, and you wondered if he was thinking back to what RJ had said, or if he just liked the thought of you being his. Either way, you nodded weakly, overwhelmed by the pattern he traced over your clit. 

Javy turned his head so he could kiss your neck again, his lips pressing into you, tongue teasing you in a motion that mirrored his fingers at your core. You leaned into him, loving his strength and his focus on you. His hand, his mouth, his broad chest, all had your head swimming, and building up a heat within you. 

Your hips were moving, rocking into him, and you felt empty, needy. 

“Answer the question, honey,” he murmured into your neck, and he pulled back his hand to readjust. 

“Yes, Javy,” you breathed, forming the words feeling like a gargantuan effort, “yours.”

“Damn right,” he said, and then a finger was pushing through your folds as his thumb traced over your clit. 

You moaned as he pushed into you, a steady intrusion and just what you wanted. You rocked your hips into his touch, seeking more, deeper, and Javy chuckled. 

“Easy, baby,” he said softly, and you shook your head. 

“Need you, Javy,” you protested. His finger was thick, brushing into you, but you knew it wasn’t enough, knew it wasn’t what you needed. He grunted, shifting again, and then another finger was between your legs. Javy’s hand on your hip angled your hips downward, and your mouth fell open when he lifted his palm so you could grind your clit against it. 

His fingers inside you were pressing deep, stretching you, and you welcomed the width of them as you ground into his palm. 

“Baby, fuck,” you panted, and you felt his hips jerk up into you. 

Which had the opposite effect than what he had intended. 

Because his fingers were good, and his hand was good, and everything felt so fucking good– but you knew what was between his legs. And his hand wasn’t enough. 

“You need to be fucked, don’t you, honey,” Javy asked hotly, his voice low in your ear. You nodded desperately, your hips working against his fingers eagerly. He’d fill you so good, fuck you so full, and you needed it, needed him. 

You were overheating in your sweater, nearly wild with wanting him so bad, but you were taking everything he’d give you, always would. 

“Please, baby,” you whispered, and it sounded like a whine. You felt his hips press up again, an unintentional response, and your hips worked faster. 

“‘s too fast, sweetheart,” Javy said, but it sounded like maybe he was trying to convince himself too. “You’re not ready…”

You moaned, your head dropping to his shoulder. 

You knew he was right, knew you had to be worked up to taking his cock, but you wanted to be full of him, wanted to feel like his, wanted him to push everything else out of your mind with his dick. 

“Please,” you whimpered, unafraid to beg, and you felt Javy’s breath catch. 

“Cum for me first, honey, come on,” he said determinedly, and you would’ve scowled at him for his stubbornness, but he was working your body so fucking well. 

His fingers were pressing deeper inside of you, searching for the spot that would tip you over the edge. He knew when he found it because your whole body seized, and he fucking cooed, pleased and proud. His fingers worked faster inside of you, his palm grinding back into your clit, and you felt your body hurtling towards completion in spite of yourself. 

You whimpered his name, and Javy soothed you, his other hand falling to your ass again. He pressed you into him, shushing you as you trembled, and it was too much, too fast. 

Your orgasm broke through you, heat crashing over you as your boyfriend rocked you in his lap. You were shaking, you were pretty sure you were babbling, as Javy worked you through your orgasm, his strong fingers pulling steadily inside of you. 

You shuddered as you came down, the world fading from technicolor to the dark light of the rec center, and the ringing in your ears quieted enough to hear Javy murmuring praise into your ear. 

“So beautiful, honey, always so beautiful when you come. Fuck, you did so good, coming on my hand like that, such a good girl for me, always so good…”

You were pressed into his chest, and you snuggled closer to his warmth, temporarily sated. You felt Javy shift his hand, pull your panties back down before sliding his hand out from under your skirt. A moment later, you felt his chest vibrate, and when you pulled back to look, his eyes were closed, head tilted back, his fingers between his lips.  

“So fucking sweet,” he said, almost to himself, licking your orgasm off his fingers. You felt your core clench at the sight of it, at the everything of him, and you tilted your head up to him, needing his kiss. 

Javy acquiesced, and you both moaned when his tongue swept into your mouth, sharing the taste of your release. It was so hot, everything he did was so hot, and impossibly, you needed him again. 

You reached down between you, your fingers skating over velvet until you found his cock. He was fully erect now, trapped against his thigh, and when your fingers coasted over him, Javy’s breath caught. 

You hummed when his hips pressed up into your touch. 

Even without your body moving to encourage him, his thighs pushed his dick towards your hand, and you loved the feeling of him. Even through the soft material, he was so hard, so thick, and you were desperate for him. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Javy panted, and you loved it when he sounded like that, like he was barely clinging to sanity. 

“Don’t want to wait,” you trailed your hand up to his tip. You couldn’t feel the details of him through the suit, but you knew his cock, you knew where he was sensitive, and Javy groaned as you traced over him. He mumbled something into your sweater, but you couldn’t hear it. 

“Please, Javy,” you whispered, and he groaned again. 

His hands were on your waist, and they tightened when he pulled back. You were surprised by the truly forlorn look on his face when he looked up at you, and your hand paused, suddenly concerned. 

“I don’t have a condom,” Javy said dejectedly. “I’m sorry, honey, it felt pervy to put it in a pocket around all the kids and I–”

“We don’t need one.”

You didn’t mean to say it, but as soon as the words were out, you knew you meant them. You’d been exclusive for a couple months now, and you were tested regularly, and you trusted him. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted it– the more you needed it, the more you knew it was exactly what you needed.

Javy was so still underneath you. 

He was looking at you so closely, hope and caution warring in his expression. 

“Are you absolutely certain, honey?” he asked, and the way he was double checking was all the confirmation you needed. 

You leaned down to rest your forehead against his, loving the way his eyes followed you, even this close. You lowered your head to his, pulling back slightly when he reached up to kiss you. 

“100%,” you said against his lips, and Javy moaned, something deep in his chest, the hottest sound you’d heard. 

He surged up to kiss you, and you felt dizzy from the lingering taste of you on his tongue. When he pulled back, you were both breathless, just shy of giddy.   

“You want me to fuck you bare, sweetheart?” he asked, and his soft question made you shiver. 

“Please,” you managed, and Javy huffed something that might’ve been a laugh. 

“You’re gonna let me into that pussy raw?” he breathed, and you squirmed in his lap. You wanted him so badly, needed to feel him, just him. “Gonna let me fill you up, feel this cock press all the way into you?”

“Javy,” you moaned his name, fully wanton, unable to say anything else. 

Your hips were already rocking into him, craving the stretch of him. 

He seemed to understand, guiding you back to stand on his boots, while he shifted, sliding the suit pants down his thighs, along with his underwear. The red velvet pooled over his boots, brushing the tops of your feet, but you barely noticed. Instead, your eyes were trained between his thighs, where his dick was resting against his stomach. 

He had such a pretty cock. 

Long and heavy, curved slightly to the side, a plump head that felt absolutely unreal when it breached you. You were practically salivating for it, and you pressed your thighs together as you balanced on his boots. 

“Now you,” he prompted, and he helped you out of your sweater and skirt. A moment later, you felt Javy pull your panties off, now with no worry for the suit. 

He dropped the thin fabric to the ground and you stepped out of it, his fingers curled up to cup you. God, you loved how he touched you, so certain and steady, like him. You clutched his shoulder for balance, and Javy’s hand tightened over your pussy, pulling him to you by your pussy. 

You might as well have been on a leash. 

You could feel your legs trembling, you wanted him so bad. He guided you back onto his lap, your legs spread over his thighs again, but it was different now, because you could feel him. When you settled, your core brushed against his hot cock, and you both hissed out a breath. Desperation seemed to build between you, and Javy finally, finally let go of you, reaching down to hold his cock steady as you lowered yourself towards him. 

“Give me that pussy, baby,” he commanded, his voice low, and you wanted nothing more. 

When you felt the first press of his fat cockhead between your legs you felt like weeping. It was the smallest brush, but he was so thick, so broad, a promise. You held your breath as you lowered yourself down, a high-pitched moan working out of you when the head of him was fully inside you.  

“Ah, honey,” Javy breathed. 

It sounded like he was praying, and you understood, because it was just the tip of him, but already you were dizzy with how full you felt. 

You looked between the two of you, at the vision of his fat cock pressing into you and you moaned again. You looked so good together; it was amazing that he fit, that you could take him. You could feel his eyes on you, knew he was watching your face as you were watching where you were joined. 

“It’s so good, Javy,” you whispered, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Your nails were probably leaving marks, not that either of you cared. 

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Javy said, his voice hoarse, “it’s so fucking good. How does my dick feel inside you, just me, so close to you?”

Your eyes closed and your jaw fell slack as pushed yourself farther onto him. The stretch neared on painful but nowhere near painful enough to make you stop. You felt him, like he said, you felt so close to him. It felt perfect, like you were made for this stretch.

“Halfway, baby,” Javy encouraged, and you practically choked at his words. 

Fuck, you thought you were farther along than that; it felt like you’d gotten farther along than that. 

But when you opened your eyes, there were still inches left of his cock, thick, searing length that you needed to fit inside of you. Javy’s hands rubbed encouraging circles on your back, and you realized your thighs were shaking. It felt like you were boiling, melting, but you knew you couldn’t stop, knew you needed to take all of him. 

Still, you couldn’t stop your whimper, “It’s too big, baby.”

Javy’s hips jerked up at your words, and his head fell back against the throne as he forced himself down, to be still. You both groaned at the ground that gave you, and Javy’s chest rose and fell rapidly. 

“You can do it, honey, you’re doing so good for me, so damn good,” he gritted, and you loved him so much. 

Loved that he was fighting for control but he still found breath to encourage you, soothe you, care for you. Your face felt wet, from sweat or tears, you couldn’t tell, but you made it the final few inches. 

When your shaking thighs met Javy’s legs, you both let out a trembling breath, and Javy wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

“Just stay here for a moment, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you lay your head on his shoulder, resting. 

You were so full. 

So sated, so absolutely content, like all you ever wanted to be was in this moment. You wanted to wrap this feeling up, remember it forever, this closeness. This perfection. 

Javy’s hands were still moving slowly up your back, his fingers pressing gently over you. You recognized he was breathing deeply, whether to help you monitor yours or because he needed to be controlled, you weren’t sure. 

You felt out of your body. 

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the stretch to ease and your body to adjust. As you accepted him, as you welcomed him, your head cleared slightly, and you became aware of the gnawing need at your core. 

You needed him to move. 

You shifted in his lap, just slightly, and Javy’s breath punched out of him, as you clenched around him. 

“Jesus, honey, warn a man,” he choked, and you smiled. 

“Can’t help it,” you said, honestly, “just feels too good.”

“You’re telling me,” he murmured, turning towards you. 

He kissed you slowly, languidly, his tongue pressing between your lips as he gently pushed his hips upward. You felt your limbs go lax; he wasn’t even pumping but he was so damn deep inside you. It felt like a caress, something gentle and sacred, and you rested on him. 

He pressed up again, and he broke the kiss, his warm breath coasting over your lips. 

“Feels fucking unreal, honey,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re so tight, so wet. God, I can feel every inch of you like this, feels like heaven.”

You hummed your agreement, turning your head to kiss along his jaw. Your lips brushed over his jawline, your tongue tasting his sweat, kissing him lightly as he rocked slowly into you again. Time felt like molasses, seeping so slowly by, and everything was distilled to the press of his hips into yours, of his cock straining inside of you. 

You whispered his name, and his hands slipped from your back to your waist. 

“Need something, honey?” Javy asked, and you whined in response. 

He was slow and steady, unhurried, stoking that heat inside of you. It was perfect, it was killing you, you needed more.

“Do you think,” Javy’s voice was still breathless, but took on a teasing lilt, “you were naughty or nice this year?”

You swatted at him weakly, his chest already huffing as he laughed. 

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled, turning to a moan at another gentle rock.

“You know I’d know if you’d been bad or good,” he said, amusing himself even as you squirmed on his cock. “I’ve got a list.”

“I swear, Javy–” 

“Do you think you’ve been a good girl for Santa?”

God, he was such a dork, but he was also so hung, and you couldn’t handle both at once. But then Javy’s hands wrapped under your ass again. Before you could sigh in relief, he lifted you up, strong arms fully pulling you off his dick, and then thrusted up into you. 

You screamed. 

You couldn’t help it, you felt it so much, so deep, so fucking full of him, and Javy’s proud laugh turned to a groan as you clenched around his cock. He’d scrambled your brain with his dick, that was the only explanation, because you were moaning and you felt every limb shaking, and you needed him to do it again. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted someone to hear us,” he chastised you gently, and you whimpered at his words. 

You both knew no one was left in the rec center, probably not even the parking lot, but fuck if the idea of someone walking in on you fucking your boyfriend on this throne of his didn’t turn you on even more.  

Javy sighed, something awed. “Is that it, honey? You want someone to see you? Want someone to walk in on you milking this bare cock? Want someone to watch me shove it so deep into your pussy, see how badly you need it?”

He lifted you again before you could respond, his strong arms pulling you up and then bringing you back down into his lap, his cock thrusting deep into you. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could only want more, need more. You felt something drip out of your mouth, realized belatedly you were literally drooling. 

Javy swore when he felt it, too, and his hips moved faster. He held you steady as he pushed up into you, slamming his hips up to meet yours. 

It was fast, it was rough, it was so, so deep, and you could only think that you needed him to keep going. 

Javy was grunting with each thrust of his hips, a gorgeous sound that had your mind racing. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass as he drove into you, so deep, and you scrambled for purchase, your hands clinging to the back of the throne, anything for leverage as he pumped into you. 

“I wouldn’t care,” Javy said, almost growled, and you felt your core clench tighter on him at that tone in his voice. “Fucking Simpson could break in now, honey, and I wouldn’t care, I couldn’t stop. You think anything could stop me now that I’ve felt this bare cunt around my cock? Nah, it’s too good, it’s so damn good. Fuck, honey, you feel—”

He broke off, and you felt his teeth bite into your shoulder, grounding himself as he drove into you. Vaguely you knew you were close, knew it in an abstract scientific way, because you could barely string two thoughts together, much less words. 

You could only cling to him, to your sweet, strong, Javy.  

“Riding me so good, baby,” Javy mumbled into your shoulder. “Being so good for me, honey, you’re always so good for me. My best girl, my beautiful, best girl. Sweetheart, I’m close, are you close?”

You nodded, or maybe you wailed, but you knew he could hear you, because his thrusts got more frantic. His thrusts were getting shorter, and you realized it was because he couldn’t reach as deep as he wanted, as fast as he wanted. Javy made a noise of frustration and his thighs flexed, then he was lifting you. 

Still impaled on his cock, he shifted you, turned you, and then your back was pressed against the cool surface of the throne. Javy was between your legs, then, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back into you. 

“Please, baby,” you whimpered, and Javy groaned in response. 

“Anything, fuck, you know that, sweetheart, anything,” he whispered, and then he grabbed the throne. 

All you could do was take it. 

Lie in the space between his arms, between his legs, clinging to him as Javy gripped the throne for leverage and thrust into you. You were held firm as he thrust into you, the new angle causing his dick to brush against a spot inside you that had your toes curling. 

“Right there, Javy,” you cried, and you felt him press deeper, determined. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he panted, as his hips slammed into you. “God, you feel so good, I’ve got you… I know you feel good too, come for me, please..feels like fucking home in you, please honey, I need to feel you come–”

The throne was shaking with each of his thrusts and he pulled you even closer to him. Your body shook with each rutt of his hips, but as you molded to him, your clit brushed against the hard wall of muscle that was Javy. His cock hit that spot deep inside of you, your clit rubbed against his skin, and it was overwhelming, it was everything, it was enough. 

“Come with me,” you gasped, begged, feeling a blinding heat at the tips of your toes. Javy groaned, and you knew he wanted to protest, but as your body seized, you felt him tense with you.   

You cried out as you came, exhausted and overwriting and flying, but you felt it, felt him. Javy surged up to kiss you, his mouth locking on yours. You were too tired to kiss, too poised to respond, but so was he. And as you tipped over the edge, as you cried against his lips, Javy’s strong hips stilled, and you felt his chest heave as he pumped into you. Then you were warm, so warm, feeling his cum spill inside of you, feeling the world burn around you. It was everything, you and him, locked together and spiraling, shaking. 

You were so full. 

Javy collapsed against you, somehow finding the strength to push himself onto the throne beside you. You fidgeted, squirming until you were once again in his lap, panting and shaking, as Javy held you tight while your orgasms rolled over you. 

You were grateful for the Christmas lights. 

They were a gentle light, soft when you opened your eyes, illuminating Javy’s profile like a poem. Sweat slicked between both of your bodies, and you didn’t want to think about the state the suit was in. You could feel Javy’s heartbeat through his chest, a pounding rhythm, strong and steady as he was. 

You should get up. 

But you snuggled deeper into his chest, relieved by the deep breath you felt him draw. You both basked in the muted light, the warmth of each other's arms, and you decided the feeling was also the answer to Javy’s question– you’d been nice.

.............

Tagging some mutuals, some folks who asked for it, and general lovers of Javy: @daggerspare-standingby @blowmymbackout @teacupsandtopgun @mandylove1000 @callsign-fangirl @cheekymcgrath @goldenseresinretriever @mxgyver @laracrofted @coyotesamachado @wildbornsiren @bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @roosterforme

[jenosbliss]

hii there!! can i req different tropes with the dreamies please?

🩶⌇ nct dream ! as different love tropes

pairing. gn!reader x nctdream | genre. fluff | wc. 1.5k | warnings. none

a/n. happy new year guys!! went a little personal on Jaemin's one, also if you want a bigger fic for any of the members with these tropes pls let me know 💖

MARK. childhood friends to lovers

Mark was the constant in your life just as you were in his. He was the one to pull you in when you experienced your first heartbreak or needed a shoulder to weep on, to rely on, to seek warmth and comfort in. He was the one to cheer you on for exams, to celebrate your achievements and your first relationship. He had been there all along. Hence, when he unexpectedly blurted out, "Do you think we would make a good couple?" while snuggling inside the cover with you one quiet night. You weren't too shocked by it because, in all honesty, you both knew—hell, everyone knew—that you loved one another more than simply as friends. In fact, your friends called you both ‘goners.’ “Is this your subtle way of asking me out?” he giggled trying to hide his oh not so obvious blush. “I mean like you know what I mean c’mon dude… will you be my girlfriend?” "Have I ever said no to you?" you drew nearer to him beneath the cover. “Sure.”

RENJUN. secret admirer

It started recently when small notes began to appear inside your locker and on your desk. At first you ignored them thinking it was some sort of a sick prank because who in their right mind will secretly admire you? Well, Renjun does, and ever since the day he saw you having your own little concert in the classroom after everyone had left, he has never been as certain about someone as he was about you. At first he left notes on a weekly basis afraid you might not like them but when he saw you smiling and saving all his notes he started leaving a dozen of them on a daily basis. He was going crazy because he had so much he wanted to tell you, but there was not enough room on a piece of paper. However, you were driving yourself crazy trying to identify this admirer of yours. This madness continued for a month until one day Renjun himself stood in front of your locker holding a piece of paper, "Here's your note, love.”

JENO. fake dating

You didn’t consider Jeno a total stranger, you have run into him quite a handful of times in the campus cafe and have your fair share of shy glances, very small talks and fleeting smiles. One day your ex followed you to the cafe, at first, he was begging for forgiveness but soon turned hostile, demanding a reason why you don’t want to be with him. Fearing he might do something bad; your eyes fell upon Jeno who just entered the cafe, a sweet smile playing on his lips when he noticed you. Could you have come up with a better response? Maybe but at that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. You approached him begging “Hi, I’m really sorry to put you in this mess but can you please, please pretend to be my boyfriend? My ex there-” at an instant Jeno stood up, grabbing your hand softly in his “Where is that jerk? Did he hurt you?” And with this incident you both started fake dating which soon turned real without either of you realizing.

HAECHAN. sunshine x grumpy

Everyone around you referred to you and Haechan as the opposite attracts couple, well to be very honest you didn’t consider yourself grumpy or mean, you just didn’t prefer the human race and any interaction with them of course except him. He was the literal definition of sunshine for you, the one who lightened you up, the one with whom you can leave your so-called grumpy side aside and be a little ray of his sunshine. Haechan found you in the darkest phase of your life when everyone you knew or had trusted turned their back on you, leaving you to cry alone in a dark corner. It was then when he pulled you into his embrace, radiating a warmth that felt safe and something like home, he became that last ray of hope and light that brightened you up once again. “How can you be this happy this early in the morning?” you grumbled seeing him dance while cooking in the kitchen. Ignoring your comment, he walked around the counter and extended his hand “Will you dance with me? Please, sunshine please!” rolling your eyes at his silly actions you still took his hand as he pulled you in for a little silly dance.

JAEMIN. first love

Love was a scary word for you, the reason you never experienced it before was because you wanted it to be perfect. You wanted to remember your first love with a smile on your face and not an experience which you would want to forget. You have had crushes and a few situationships and an experience of a boy you thought was definitely the one to not reciprocate your feelings when you confessed to him before. But that was it, after the last incident years ago you gave up on the idea of love, thinking it was for the pinterest girlies, those perfect ones who deserved a perfect love. But the day Jaemin came to you on that bus ride asking if can take the empty seat next to yours, the perception of love you had changed. He became your first and perfect love, he showed you everyone is worthy of love, he accepted all your flaws, he cared for you like no one has ever done –babying you included– he never shied away from confessing his love and gratitude for you, he cherished you with every breath he took. You could cry to him, with him, you could laugh with him until your stomach hurts, you could gossip with him, and you could cherish the quietness with him. He was perfect and he was yours, your first love. “OMG y/n I saw this flower growing out of the sidewalk, it reminded me of you princess.”

CHENLE. academic rivals

Chenle didn’t give a shit about studies or grades, if you ask his parents or friends, they haven’t seen so many ‘A+’ on his tests till now. It’s not like he was poor in his studies, it's just that he didn't have a reason to study. Why study if he could just get a scholarship through basketball? It was useless according to him until he met you in high school, the top student in the class if not the school. Was it love at first sight? Nah it was love at first fight for him when he accidentally hit you with the basketball during gym class and you poured a bottle of water on him as revenge (it was freezing cold that day). After that, the more he tried to approach you the more you avoided him. It was the first time when he wanted something, but he couldn't have it right away, and this ignited a fire in him. So, the only way to reach you now was through academics, and boy, he loved pushing your buttons, so he decided to compete with you… fiercely and that’s how after a few months of this rivalry you found yourself pinned against the bookshelf by him in a corner of the library. “Everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” you felt his breath on your face “Isn’t it for you, too?” you spat back, not breaking eye contact. “No, I did this because I am in fucking love with you.”

JISUNG. brother's best friend

You met Jisung when you were five and he was seven, he brought Sungchan back home after he sprained his ankle during the game of soccer. You remember watching him from afar, while he was talking to your mother about Sungchan’s injury when he looked at you and passed a smile. Since then, not a day passes by when you don’t think of him. At seven you had childishly asked him to marry you which he laughed at first but agreed later, promising to do so when you grow older. At fifteen he scared off a boy who kissed you on the cheek in school, saying things like you are too young for dating and you can’t date just any boy. That day, instead of crying that your first relationship ended before it could even start, you were happy, it was the day you started liking Jisung. At seventeen you confessed your feelings to him when he said the words that broke your small, fragile heart in pieces, he said you were like a little sister to him. At twenty-two he saw you going out with a man when he arrived at your apartment to celebrate your birthday. He felt something he shouldn’t have, he felt jealous, a burning rage and it was that moment that he knew he had fallen head over heels for you. “Don’t date him.” you scoffed hearing his authoritative tone. “And who are you to say that? I’m not fifteen anymore. It’s my life I can date whoever I want… you’re not my real brother.” he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him “Yes I’m not your brother… so date me instead.”

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[blakeswritingimagines]

Their Views On You

Batman: You are his soulmate, his reason for living, the person he wants to be with forever. He never wants to lose you and he can't imagine life without you. You are his heart and you mean more to him than anything or anyone else. He's so grateful that he has you in his life and he'll never take you for granted. He's so lucky to have found you and he cherishes every moment you share together.

Superman: He views his partner as his equal. You are his best friend, supporter, and source of guidance. You are someone he can count on in his darkest moments and someone he can be vulnerable with when he doesn't feel at his best. He admires your ability to always see the good in people and your kindness towards others.

Aquaman: You are his ray of sunshine, his rock on the rainy days. You bring balance to his life and are always there for him, no matter what. He loves the way you make him feel and it's something words can't quite capture. You know his heart and his soul and bring out the best in him.

Wonder Woman: Her partner is her world. You are her light and her darkness. You are what makes her world go round. She would be lost without you, you are her better half. Her strength. You fill her up where she is empty and you make the world a happier place.

Shazam: His significant other is his best friend. You share the same sense of humor, and your romantic relationship is one of open communication and acceptance. Your love grows stronger every day, and you both constantly strive to make each other feel loved and appreciated. He feels very blessed to have such an incredible partner in his life.

Flash: He values his partner's company, appreciates your kindness and empathy, and feels grateful for the opportunity to grow together and to become better versions of yourselves. In a word, he describes his partner as "my person"- someone with whom he connects on a deeper level than anyone else, someone who makes him feel loved and appreciated, and someone for whom he would do anything in the world.

Nightwing: Dick views his romantic partner as a constant source of comfort and companionship in a harsh world. He views you as a confidant who will always be there to support him and cheer him on, no matter what challenges arise. You are the one person who knows him best and understands him most, and he can always count on you to be there for him when he needs you the most. He feels safe and loved around his partner and he is grateful to have found you. He looks forward to growing and building a future with you, sharing his life in all its wonderful and difficult moments.

Red Hood: He views you as the main one to have his back. You're his rock, his shoulder to cry on, and someone who will be there for him no matter what. He knows he can trust and rely on you, and that you bring a sense of security to his life. The one he can be himself around without any judgments or repercussions. He loves you more than anything else in the world and would do anything for you, knowing You'd do the same in return.

Red Robin: You are his strength, a source of stability and support that never fails to help him through rough times. You are there to encourage him, give him advice, and guide him toward making the right decisions. Your positive attitude helps him stay strong. In addition, you are a source of motivation, helping him to work hard toward his goals. You make him want to strive to be at his best. And, when he's feeling low, your words of encouragement lift him up. You make him feel loved and valued.

Robin: His partner is his soulmate. You are the one person who understands him and loves him for all his quirks and faults. You are the one who accepts him as a whole, even the dark parts of himself. He'd say you are his safe place, where he can be his true and authentic self and know you fully accept him. He feels like you are two halves of one person, and it's a true love that's unlike anything he's ever experienced.

Batgirl: You are a special person in her life who she cares about deeply. In one word, you are her home. You are someone who knows her on a profound level and whom she can trust and depend on. In more detail, she sees you as a companion who has her back, who can be both a lover and a friend, and who is a partner in life. You are someone she can see herself spending the rest of her life with and growing old together, experiencing all the important milestones and moments in life together.

Superboy: Kent sees his romantic partner as someone who knows the importance of a life beyond mere existence. He loves you, but he also loves that you share a commitment to finding and embracing your own passions in life, and he sees you as someone to learn from and support, with whom he can connect deeply and meaningfully.