#we did keep in touch briefly

[statusquoergo]

more! original! fiction! (i did warn you guys.)

~*~

Out of nowhere, the air begins to smell like lit birthday candles. What if something accidentally caught on fire, what would happen then? People would run away, probably. Maybe there would be a panic. Someone might call 911.

The smell goes away after a couple of minutes. Someone's whistling; not “Happy Birthday,” it's some tune she doesn't know. It doesn't sound like something they're making up on the spot, though; maybe it's their favorite song, that person, one they listen to all the time. Maybe they don't like it too much but it's the only one they can whistle okay. Maybe they'd rather be singing, but there are too many people around and they don't want that kind of attention, or maybe they have a really awful voice and a terrible memory for lyrics.

Dea rolls over onto her stomach and sets her chin down on the back of her folded hands. Whatever, it doesn't matter.

Well. It probably does to them.

***

“I didn't want to come here.”

“Yes, I know.”

“My parents made me.”

“Did they?”

“My mom made me.”

“Oh?”

“My dad said he doesn't care.”

“How did it make you feel when he said that?”

“He said it doesn't matter if I come here or not.”

“Did that make you angry?”

“He said the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is one, but I won't admit that there's something wrong with me, so I won't get any better no matter what, and it's fine if I don't want to come here anymore because then he can stop paying for something that isn't making a damn bit of difference.”

“Did that make you upset?”

“He didn't say 'admit,' he said I won't 'acknowledge that I have a problem.'”

“Is that an important distinction?”

“I think he probably meant to say 'admit,' I think it's supposed to be 'the first step is admitting you have a problem.' I think it's one of the twelve steps they make you do in Alcoholics Anonymous.”

“Elise?”

“I've never been there, but I saw them on a poster downstairs. The twelve steps. In a list.”

“Last week, you said your mom was upset that you didn't have a lot of friends, do you remember that?”

“Yeah. But she gets upset about everything.”

“Do you think you don't have a lot of friends?”

“I used to have one, but she moved away.”

“Oh? Do you still keep in touch?”

“I was really glad she was going to be in my class, because she's the only girl in my year who wasn't mean to me all the time, but then on the first day of school, I went to my classroom and her name was on the attendance list, but I asked Mister Pruitt where she was and he said she moved away during the summer. But her name was still on the list because they just found out right before the new school year started.”

“Have you spoken to her since then?”

“So, no, we don't keep in touch.”

“How did you feel about that, when you got to school and found out she wasn't there?”

“It was the first day of sixth grade.”

“It sounds like you remember it very well.”

“Yeah, well, it was a traumatic experience.”

“Did you speak to your parents about it?”

“It wasn't really traumatic. I was just eleven.”

“What did your parents say when they found out?”

“I think her name was Stephanie.”

“You think?”

“I wanted to cancel today.”

“I know.”

“My mom made me come.”

“Did she?”

“My dad doesn't care if I come or not.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“...”

“Sarah?”

“...”

“Sarah, is William here yet for his three o’clock?”

[nanaslutt]

oh my god please make another part of gojo teaching us that was so good holy shit

Gojo teaches you how to touch him<3

Pt. 1 here

contains: fem reader, guided jerking off, experienced gojo, size kink if you squint, so much dirty talk, corruption kink, overstimulation, first time making out, gojo walks you through everything, cum eating

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“Wanna learn how to touch a dick?” his question rang in your ears like a flash grenade had gone off. He was referring to himself right? You had to remind yourself how to breathe at how anxious his question made you. Touching yourself had made you embarrassed and self aware enough as it is, so touching someone else? The thought made you feel mortified.

Gojo must’ve picked up on your anxiousness because he used his big hands to rub comfortingly up and down your forearms, “Hey, if you’re not comfortable we can always stop here, you’ve already done so good.” He comforted.

Gojo might be unserious 99% of the time, but when it came to making you feel safe, he really nailed it. You came to the right person in asking for help with this kind of thing.

"N-no, I think I want to its just.. I dont know what im doing." You confess, even though he already knew. Gojo giggled, making the weight on your shoulders lift a bit at the sound, "Baby, I know, thats why Im gonna teach you, if you’ll let me." He smiles, leaning his body forward so you could see his face-- the visual of him smiling eased your nerves slightly.

"Right.. but what if I'm still not any good?" You say, shyly. "I almost came in my pants just watching you cum so.. I'm pretty sure you will do juuust fine." He confessed, making you huff out a laugh. "O-okay, what should I do?" You asked, turning your body so you were facing him, reaching over to grab your previously discarded panties while you waited for him to answer.

"The first thing you can do is forget about these," Gojo took your soaked panties from your hand, making you scoff as he twirled them around his finger before pocketing the fabric as quick as he snatched them, "The view of your little pussy is so cute, don't want these to get in the way of this eye candy." He praised, making you blush and look away from his intimidating gaze.

He brought his hand up to your face after pulling his hand out of his pocket-- caressing the side of your cheek comfortingly, "Come here." He instructed, sliding down on the headboard so he was propped comfortingly against the pillows, "On my lap," He adds when you hesitate to move twords him.

You situated yourself comfortably on his thighs, right under his crotch, you placed your hands on his lower stomach, staring at his intimidating bulge while you waited for his words to come. "You wanna start by touching it over his pants, just like you did for yourself." He instructs, speaking generally.

You picked your hands up from his stomach, hovering them a couple inches over his crotch before taking a deep breath and biting your lip. "How should I.. touch it?" you ask uncertainty laced in your words. "Wrap your hand around it the best you can and rub," He tells you, placing his hands on your thighs and rubbing his thumb on your skin for comfort.

You held your breath before you made contact with him, making him hiss air into his lungs through his teeth at the feeling of properly being touched after so much tension. You softly rubbed him up and down, gulping at how big he felt in your hand. "You can rub a little harder, it's not gonna break," He laughed, making you blush and whisper out a quiet 'sorry' as you briefly made eye contact with him, quickly averting your gaze back down to his crotch.

You gripped him through his pants, stroking him rougher now but still slowly, up and down. You took a peek at his face from under your lashes, watching him lick his lips and blink rapidly, his eyes focused on your hand at work on him.

"Yeah, yeah, just like that." He praised, keeping his eyes glued down between the two of you. You felt your face heat up when his cock jumped against your hand, it felt so hot even through his pants. The thought of seeing a real dick, unobstructed by fabric was making your head spin.

The man underneath you truly thought he would've came the second you touched him, it was a miracle from the heavens that he had managed to hold back and not bust in his pants at the first contact.

Your inexperience turned him on to no extent. He just loved the idea of corrupting you, showing you all of the amazing things you could feel, everything that you've been missing out on. He swore he would ruin you for anyone else—make you addicted to him so you never even thought about doing this with anyone else.

"D-does this feel good?" You ask genuinely, you had noticed his expressions and reactions to your touch—and they seemed like good ones—but you had no idea how someone was supposed to react when you touched them like this, hence why you asked for his confirmation.

"Feels better than you know." He grinned, his body running warmer the longer you stroked him over his pants. "It feels so big." You confessed, unaware of how your words went straight to his head and dick.

"Yeah?" his smirk grew as he felt his own ego inflate at your words, not like he needed that. "Yeah.." You meekly replied, "It keeps twitching too," you told him like he was unaware. "I know baby, means you're doing a good job." He praised once more, making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Wanna see it?" He asked after he deemed that you had been touching him outside his pants for an adequate amount of time. You swallowed hard, stilling your hand on his cock as it continued to jump under the weight of your palm. "Yes, please." You answered, sliding your hands up his shirt and feeling his hard abs before you slid them back down to hold onto the hem of his pants. "Should I take your boxers off too, or?" You question, hesitating.

He smiled at you, giving you a short nod. You grabbed his pants and boxers alike, beginning to pull them down his body— gojo lifted his hips up to aid your efforts, jaw dropping in an open-mouthed smile when his hard cock sprung up and slapped against his abdomen.

Your mouth opened in a small o shape, running dry at the sheer size of his now unobstructed cock. There was a string of pre that had already dropped down against his abdomen, connecting the two.

It looked as thick as it felt, a nice upwards curve to it, and the tip was flushed a pretty pink color. It was the prettiest and only dick you’d ever seen.

“You like what you see, cutie?” he teased, making his cock jump as you stared between the appendage and his penetrating gaze. “Fuck.. y-yeah.” you confessed, feeling yourself start to throb between your legs at the new visual.

“Go ahead an touch it, the same as you did before.” Gojo instructed. You slowly reached out, wrapping your hand around his length, noticing that your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around his girth.

The man underneath you couldn’t resist as he thrusted his hips up into your hand, biting his lip at the direct contact. “Your hand is so fucking soft” He praised, “Go ahead and spit on it for me, it doesn’t feel very good when it’s dry.” he told you.

The gears in your head were still turning at what you were actually doing right now. Without saying anything, you leaned down a bit, collecting the saliva in your mouth before you spit right onto his cockhead, making him gasp.

You brought your hand to his tip, rubbing it around in circles before sliding your hand down the length of his cock and coating it in your spit, easing the slide. “Fuuuck, just like that, shit-“ Gojo cursed, tipping his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut.

“S-squeeze harder at the tip,” he instructed, remembering he was supposed to be teaching you, so staying silent and moaning probably wouldn’t do you much good. “T-the tip is more sensitive than the rest of the cock, so make sure to pay more attention to it.” he tells you.

“Is it kinda like the clit?” You ask, which makes him giggle before he responds, “Sorta..” he answeres, staring at the ceiling in thought before he continues, “Yeah actually, pretty similar, but if you spend too much time on just the tip it can get a little too sensitive.” He explains.

“Sensitive how?” you ask, continuing your slow but heavy strokes on his cock, using the knowledge he just told you in squeezing harder against his tip. “Why don’t I show you?” he says.

“Take one hand and keep stroking me just like you’re doing, with the other, lay your palm flat- yeah just like that- then curl your hand over the entirety of my tip, and rotate your wrist in circles.” Gojo instructed, digging his nails into your thighs prematurely as he braced himself for the intense overstimulating pleasure that was about to come.

“This won’t hurt you right?” you ask, getting your hands into place but keeping them still as you awaited his answer. “You’re so sweet~” he cooed, “I’ll stop you if it’s too much.”

With that, you started, quickly jerking the length of his cock while rotating your wrist over his dick in quick circles. Immediately his body started reacting, back arching and abs clenching uncontrollably as he bit his lip and dug his nails deeper into your skin to keep himself grounded.

“K- haaah- keep g-going-“ he moaned out, his legs jerking and twitching underneath you as you kept up your antics. “Fuck! f-fuck-“ The white haired man squeezed his eyes shut as his body spasmed without his permission.

Your cunt was throbbing at how you were able to bring a man as strong as Gojo to this state. “Ngh~” he was whining and moaning against the sheets, head thrashing back and forth as he tried to keep his voice down.

You never wanted this to end, you finally understood what he meant when he said he was worked up from just watching you play with yourself, as you felt your cunt clench, slick dripping down your leg from your tight hole.

His large hand came down to stop your wrist, panting heavily he spoke, “O-okay, okay- fuck, that’s enough.” He groaned when the pleasure quickly became too much. "S-sorry, are you okay?" you choked, once again making him smile at how sweet you were. "I'm just fine baby, it's just a little overwhelming," He said, releasing your wrist and placing his hand back on your thighs.

"Did so fucking good though, listened just like I told you to." He smirked, gripping your thighs and making you look up at him through your lashes. You pouted out your bottom lip a bit in embarrassment, trying your best to not look away from his intimidating gaze. "Alright, class is back in session, go ahead and pick up where you left off." He continued.

You released your hand that was caressing his tip, going back to jerking him off steadily with the one hand. "Don't forget about the balls either, you just wanna massage them softly," he instructs after a couple seconds of your continued ministrations. You nod, acknowledging his words before you spit on your other hand, and bring it down to his warm balls.

"Oh shit- haha- didn't even have to tell you to spit." He says, amazement laced in his words, "You had n-nothing to worry about, you're doing so fucking good." He reassured when you started to expertly roll and massage his sack in your hand, timing your motions perfectly with the jerking of his cock.

"Cmere baby," He asked, growing needier and needier at the more stimulation you provided him with. You tilted your head at him, confused, making him laugh. "Come give me a kiss, pretty thing." He clarifies. You hesitate slightly, You've kissed one or two people before, but you've never made out with anyone per se, which is what you were assuming Gojo wanted right now.

"Follow my lead, I'll show you how to make kissing feel as good as sex." He boldly said, making you blush. You released your hold on his balls, opting to place your hand against his hard chest for stability as you leaned forward, not stopping your ministrations on his cock. He gave you a toothy grin, his big hands coming up to grab your waist before he opened his mouth, huffing out a small laugh before he pressed your lips together.

He immediately took the lead, moving his lips against your own, massaging his soft lips with his. He groaned into the kiss, which made you reciprocate the sound, whining into his mouth. Where you normally would've pulled away by now, Gojo instead opened his mouth against you and pressed another kiss to your lips, repeating the action, and continuing the kiss.

You unawarely squeezed his cock harder at the stimulation, you had no idea that kissing could feel so erotic. When Gojo felt your fist tighten up around him, he pulled back half an inch from the kiss, panting slightly against your lips before he spoke needily, "Faster baby, give it to me faster." He rushed before conjoining your lips once more, rougher this time.

You felt him poke his tongue out and lick against your lips, "Open your mouth for me, baby," He said to you between kisses, to which you complied. He took this new opportunity to lick his tongue into your mouth. You thought French kissing would feel gross and unpleasant, but this was nothing of the sort, it really felt like he was fucking your mouth. He expertly massaged the inside of your mouth with his warm appendage, making you throb between your legs.

You remembered his words; which had told you to follow his lead; as you reciprocated, darting your tongue out and intertwining it with his, and it felt even better. "Mmmmm" Gojo hummed against your lips when he felt your tongue join the fun. Hips lips suddenly attached to your bottom one, slowing down the kiss briefly as he sucked it into his mouth and bit it between his teeth, smirking before he let it go, chasing your lip as it bounced back to your face.

You had switched up your technique on his cock just seconds ago, rotating your wrist over his entire cock, and pulsing your grip to imitate your pussy walls, giving him harder strokes when you slid your hand down him; you were having fun with it, and it must've been working.

Gojo pulled away from the kiss, allowing you to sit back up as he panted heavily, his cock was steadily dripping more and more pre onto your fingers, easing the slide against his cock while you jerked him off. "Did you like that?" He asked, referring to the kiss. "Y-yeah, I didn't know kissing could feel so good," you replied honestly, making him smile.

"I know~ made your pussy feel all needy again, huh?" he said, having noticed the wetness that was coating your inner thighs, his words sending a wave of sudden awareness through you, making you want to cower away. "Aww, don't get shy on me baby, look at me," He started, "I'm the one getting my cock jerked off, about to fucking burst," The man giggled, "If anyone should be embarrassed it's me~"

"You're about to cum?" You asked, those words being the only ones that made it into your dizzy head. "Yeah, and it's all cos' of you, didn't even have to give you that much i-instruction, you're a pro." he praised, making you look away from his gaze and instead focus on his cock in your smaller hand. "You wanna make me cum?" He asked.

"Wanna watch you cum.." You replied, making him laugh breathlessly as he felt your words go straight to his balls, "Oh don't worry, you will," He informed you, tipping his head back once more against the pillows, and letting himself really feel as you stroked your fingertips along his lower abs, while keeping the steady and mind numbing pace on his cock.

"Fuck, wish I was cuming inside your pussy," He suddenly moaned, catching you off guard with his words as he gripped your hips with his large hands. "Would fill you up so fucking full." He babbled, inching closer and closer to his high with every stroke, slightly thrusting up into your warm hand.

proofread-----

"If I try hard enough, your little hand starts to feel like your perfect fucking cunt," He groaned through his teeth, "but I just know you would be so much warmer and wetter- fuck-." He moaned at his own words, working himself up as he dropped his chin forward to look at your hand on him, his jaw opened in a small o shape.

"You want that? Huh? Want me to split you open on my cock and fill you up with my cum?" His words had gotten so filthy and shameless, and so fast, it was giving you whiplash. You nodded meekly, not trusting your voice right now as his words alone made you feel like you were going to cum. But that wasn't good enough for Gojo. "Gotta hear you say it baby, need you to tell me you need it." He groaned through his teeth, making your body move above him as he thrust his hips upwards, helping you fuck his cock with your hand.

"Y-yes Satoru I want it." You said, meaning every word, "What do you want?" He rushed out, trying to hold back from cumming to hear you say those magic words. His balls and shaft alike were twitching so strongly against your hold, getting ready to release his seed. "W-want you to come inside me, please give it t-to me." You blushed at your own words, the embarrassment worsening when he groaned shamelessly at them. His pretty eyes rolled back in his head as his orgasm crashed down on him. "Fuck- coming-" he warned before you felt his warm seed start to cover your hand.

Long rope after rope of his cum coated your hard, making you moan with him at the erotic sight. His abs were clenching under your hand, body twitching and back arching slightly, similar to how your own did when you had cum, as you fucked him through his high. You kept jerking him off even after the spasms of his body ceased, and his cock started to soften in your hold.

His large hand shot up and gripped your wrist harshly. "C-careful," He laughed, heaving air into his lungs, "It's so fucking sensitive right after we cum." He said.

"Shit s-sorry," You blushed, releasing his dick from your soiled hand as you stared at his seed that covered it, amazed by how much there was. "Don't be sorry baby, I haven't cum that hard in my life, and all just from your hand" He laughed, rubbing his large hands up the length of your torso while he let himself catch his breath, his soft cock resting against his tummy.

An idea popped into your head, remembering how he had sucked off your cum from your own fingers after he made you finish, and it made you wonder what he tasted like too. Absentmindedly you brought your hand up to your mouth, not paying attention to the man below you as he watched your every movement with bated breath, knowing exactly what you were about to do.

You let your tongue poke out from your open mouth, licking up his seed at tasting him on your tongue. It was bitter, but not overwhelmingly so, there was something almost sweet about it, which made you suck your fingers completely into your mouth, swallowing his seed that coated them.

Gojo watched with a slack jaw at the show you were putting on, his cock twitched to life as he watched you eagerly lick up his cum. "Fuuuck." He drew, bringing your attention back to him as you popped your fingers out of your mouth, giving him a small smile that made his brain short-circuit.

"I have so much to teach you." He grinned, caressing the side of your face as you closed your eyes, and leaned your face into his hand.

pt.3

[screampied]

pls pls pls can we get some overstimulating toji, Hes whimpering so much, maybe tie his hands up 👀🙏 love u twin

❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji letting you "top" him

warnings. fem! reader, overstim, whiney toji, riding him after he cūms, dirty talk, mdni.

“hmph. you’re gettin’ too fuckin’ cocky,” toji gruffs lowly, leaning back against the padded comforter. dark eyes stare right back into you as you straddle his lap. he’s buried into you, and he was just about to finish. his breaths were quick paced, huffing and puffing. white clouds of air escape his lips as he keeps dark irises on each of your fidgety movements. “wipe that smile of y’er face. don’t like when ya give me that look.”

you hum, leaning in to toss your arms over his wide shoulders. whilst he’s stretching your gummy walls out to the very fullest— you lean in to plant a kiss near the right side of his lip, soft contact right against his infamous slanted scar. a soft moan always withdraws from his lips whenever you did that. the toughness that scraps against your mouth as you plant your lips down on that specific spot. “or …what?” you tease, grinding your hips just a bit more brisker at a fleeting tempo. “aw, someone’s getting close?”

“fuuuck,” he growls out, pearly white canines sticking out near the very corners of his mouth. toji’s head throws back in rapture and he feels your hand glide down the middle part of his chest. his shaggy, unkempt bare chest—all types of scars from his work that you love to feel all over. he’s about to pump you full, the blissful agitation that pokes against his nerves makes him feral. “sensitive still,” and with a low exhale, he glares at your stretching sly smile. “don’t give me that look. don’t …. even—f-fuck..”

and at that exact moment, toji fushiguro whined.

you grow quiet. he grows so quiet, it’s so silent that you could hear a pen drop.

toji swallows, even a simple action as that was just so loud. he groans, leaning back against the fat silk pillows before he stares at you with low hooded eyes.

“s-shit,” and his voice continues to grow more . . . shaky.

it’s so unlike him, the way his words quaver from each word was so cute to hear. you even had his hands tied up, pinned amongst the edges of the bed. he was sprawled all out for you while you were grinding against his lap.

“i spoil you too much, f-fuckin’ little girl,” and he’s clearly trying to keep up his rough facade— but alas, it’s really no use.

“you’re cute when you whine, baby,” you smooch against the scar near the right side of his lip.

his mouth twitches in vexation and you watch as his eyes roll further back.

his abdomen— oh, it burns into a mild volume of arousal, he’s profusely sweating before he feels himself about to break. each time you sneak a kiss against his scar, he groans. “mwah,” you tease, treating the lower part of his face with such delicacy. toji was shooting you a look of grimace. briefly—he tried to keep up his stubborn antics, but his glare only turned into lewd eye rolls from how good you clamp against his cock. it’s so good, the saturation of your sopping wet pussy squeezing down on him tight, he’s going dumb by the minute. “it’s okay, toji. you can cum.”

“don’t tell me what to d—” and he gets cut off before he quite literally does cum, it’s abrupt. toji’s quavering underneath you as he dumps a thickset load of seed into you. “shit, fuckin’ damn,” he heaves. his breath was heavy as he’s leaning all the way back now. with a hand still gripped onto your left hip, he sinks into the weightlessness nirvana that awaited him. “fuuck,” he pants, a rough hand grasping your ass— for a solid moment, toji grows quiet and the only sounds that’s could have been made were the sloshes of your cunt accepting his seed. somehow he managed to rip off the restraints on his wrists—wasting no time to finally touch you. in the midst of still rocking your hips in a circular rotation again toji—it consists of such satiny ropes, you’ve never felt more stuffed. “ugh, fuckin’ slut. got me moanin’ for you like this-”

you giggle, gifting him with a chaste kiss. “i’m not done, baby. keep up with me, okay?”

toji’s caught by surprise once you start to move your hips again, accelerating them against him and he whines. “f-fuck, the fuck? girl, ‘jus fuckin’ came . . sensitive, goddamnnn.”

it was cute, the way his low raspy voice pitches up an octave— he’s whimpering, the rapid movements of your pussy having him practically speechless. with his twitching dick now flaccid, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist. a raw groan only then wrenches from the back of his throat.

“can’t cum anymore, f-fuck, ‘m still sensitive,” he babbles, softly pulling you by the neck to give him a kiss.

and by kiss, it was more sloppy than anything. with wet tongues moving against each other in tavern, he feels you grinding again and again.

toji’s so warm. he can feel his heartbeat coercively pulsating through his ears. your tender touch against him had him so needy. even while having him like this— he was still attractive, yet that’s when you grab his wrists, making him pin them back again. “fuck are ya d-doing.”

“no touching me, baby,” you hum, and his glare returns. with pinkish crimson lips squeezing into a scowl, his darkened eyebrows curl into a furrow. “touch me after you give me another one, yeah?”

he swallows, toji couldn’t believe how dominant you were being. it was rare to get him like this, even rare to be on top of him.

“fuckin’ brat,” he grouses, his muscles near his forearms tensing. your cunt’s involuntarily constricting around his massive length. your walls hug him tightly before he starts to pant more and more. “fine. f-fine, just kiss me again…… please.”

you lean in, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders before pulling him into a deep kiss.

he’s so sensitive—heavy, hot huffs of breaths gnashing together, he whines again in your mouth. toji shivers, feeling the print of your thumb brush down against his undercut. he groans, feeling your hips start to pick up pace again and he pulls away to breathe. “phew,” he puffs out, seeing nothing but pure stars. you rode him so good that he didn’t even have a witty comeback.

toji’s entire face was all flustered, he glowers once he sees your smug grin tug against your lips. “what.”

“you should whine more,” you pause your hips, leaning in to pepper a few kisses against his cheek. he’s so fluttered—still heaving through his full lungs, eyelids halfway open as a big arm wraps around your waist. toji pulls you close, despite how embarrassed he was—he took it as a opportunity to pull you closer towards him. “you sound so cute when you’re whiney.”

“shut up,” he pouts, avoiding eye contact. toji’s still stuffed inside of you before he grunts once he feels you starting to move then stop. “m-mhm. don’t stop though. keep going.”

you giggle, bringing a single finger to stroke his cheek. “say please, toji.”

“fuckin—” he starts, sending you straight daggers. he’d argue further but he was still deeply buried into you. just a quick move with your hips and he’d start whining again from the euphoric friction. “fine. fine, just finish fucking me, please.”

“good boy,” you kiss the top of his head, starting up your hips again and he brings you into his chest, wrapping his beefy arms around you before whimpering into your neck.

he swallows, seeping his teeth into the crevice of your neck. “shut u-mhm,” and he slumps back with a pussydrunk smile on his face. “actually….praise me more. call me that again, ‘n look at me when you do.”

“good boy, toji,” you repeat in a sweet voice, picking up his head to make him stare into your eyes—he’s still panting before he leans back, groaning, shuddering from your touch. “such a good boy.”

[johanna-swann]

I actually have sooo many issues with 911 lately that haven't even got much to do with any ships.

Like. They wrote out almost all of the side characters. Chris is gone, Linda and Sue are gone, Athena's kids are gone (even though Harry just moved in with her and Bobby again? Seriously, where is Harry?), Ravi is gone, Carla is gone. I know the GA maybe don't care that much, casual viewers might not even have noticed that this many characters have just vanished from the show, but in my opinion this is one of the things that give a show running as long as 911 life. Having a big cast is a good thing. Otherwise things are going to get very monotonous very soon.

Actually, that's my second point. They keep repeating storylines! Every season Hen and Karen have to fight a custody battle over one of their kids.

Every season Eddie ends up realising he has a lot of repressed trauma and issues which keep him from leading a healthy happy and free life.

Every season Bathena realise that they have communication issues and they fight about it, but then something traumatic happens and they forgive each other without ever really talking things out.

Every season we are reminded that Maddie's most prominent character trait is "traumatised", the writers just alternatingly bring up Doug again and sometimes the ppd arc.

Every season we see Buck being somewhat restless, looking and searching for something that will bring him true happiness and cycling through love interests that never stick around and each time when you think "oh, there it is, he's getting somewhere now" the writers go "BEEEP! WRONG!" and we start all over again. [This is not just about recent events aka Tommy, the break-up and Buck potentially going back to his 1.0 ways, this also happened in season 6 when he had his "it doesn't matter what other people see in me, I'm enough" revelation only to suddenly be like "omg, Natalia just sees me".]

And Chimney- he had his moment last season with the wedding episode, Kenneth Choi really ate that episode up, but his most prominent character trait is "Maddie's supportive husband". There's really not that much going on with him otherwise.

Another point I briefly touched upon above is consistency. Like Harry moving back in with Athena and Bobby and then just vanishing. Or Gerrard being more like a slightly unfriendly grandpa than an actual antagonist in season 8 when he was still spouting slurs in season 7.

And the timeline! We talked about this before ("last March", Mara's fostering to adoption timeline, Tommy tranferring to harbour "5 years ago"), but the newest "Tommy was actually Abby's Tommy" twist just adds to that. Tommy was with Abby for over 2 years. They were engaged. This was at a time when he was still at the 118. Tommy dated Abby presumably because he was in denial or maybe because he was hiding. In either case, wouldn't his team at least have heard about his fiancée, Abby the dispatcher? Wouldn't that have rung a bell when Buck eventually brought her around only a year or two later? Tommy did talk about his private life at least a little at work, even under Gerrard. It just doesn't make sense. (Not to mention this seems wildly out of character for Tommy who around the same time also said about himself "being single is easier".)

Then there's the pacing. This was a huge issue in season 7. They jumped from one personal soap opera drama to the next without taking any breathers, had almost no procedural in their drama the whole season, still somehow decided to spend one third of the entire season just on the opening disaster and also squeezed in a "Bobby begins for the third time now" episode. But okay, it was a shortened season, there were strikes, they switched networks, they were under a lot of pressure - I'll cut them some slack. At least they set up a bunch of interesting stuff for the following season.

But we're in season 8 now. The renewal was announced very early, they had a lot of time to plan this time. Also they have almost double the episodes they had last season, there's really no need to rush any of the major plots. I am done cutting them slack.

They wanna do a 3 part opening disaster again? Okay fine, you have the time now. I feel like they could've easily done it in 2 episodes (especially 8x02 felt a little "eh"), but okay. Better than the breakneck speed you were going at befo- Oh, what's that? 8x04 flying in with a steel chair. You resolved 70% percent of the plots you set up last season in one single episode with no build up, no emotional pay off and no lasting consequences? And you also squeezed in multiple unrelated calls at the same time? Damn, okay then. Good-bye potentially interesting storylines. Fuck me for being invested I guess. I thought there would at least maybe be some follow up in 8x05, but no.

Now that Halloween episode wasn't bad, it was actually the best episode of this season imo, but instead of following up on previously established conflicts and developments they just hit us with new Wilson family trauma and conflict that was also immediately fixed again. And now 8x06 has speedrun and dumped another storyline that had potential to go to deeper and interesting places. Not gonna talk too much about that though because this post is about the show as a whole, not ships.

And I am not yet convinced that there will be much more to come on the only thing that's left from last season: Eddie's deep dive into his trauma and repression. It's totally possible at this point that being told "you deserve nice things" by a random stranger actually solved all of his problems, it would be very in tone with 911's new style.

What are they even gonna do with the rest of this season? Revisiting the Hotshots set sounds fun, but ultimately inconsequential. You know what's great about a regular old procedural drama with ~20 episodes per season that comes on weekly? You have time. You can let the viewers sit with their emotions and thoughts for a week and keep them engaged by stretching things out a little.

But why should I bother getting emotionally invested in problems the characters are gonna solve within the same episode anyway? Or rather, even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to care if you don't give me the time to develop any feelings about anything that's happening? "Henren lost in court and are now completely forbidden from seeing Mara at all!" Damn, that must be so har- "JUST KIDDING! Ortiz is exposed and everything is perfect again now." Oh. Okay then, I guess.

Bottom line: The characters are all stuck in their own hamster wheels, they keep cutting side characters that could bring a breeze of fresh air (I'm honestly surprised they even kept Josh until now), they rush through all the storylines a such a ridiculous speed that I don't even have time to feel any sort of way about it, they don't even try to keep a consistency or sensible timeline going and they seem to strongly prioritise random funny bits that'll entertain the very casual viewers right now in this moment (tiger call, Billy Boils, Bee-nado, the 'Stache tm, "wait, it's the same Abby?", Gerrard being a fangirl at heart) instead of playing the long game and catering to people who actually pay a little attention to the show.

[On that last remark: I'm not talking about hardcore fans who analyse every single frame here, I mean casual fans who've watched the show on and off again for a while and who may not be involved in fandom but genuinely care about the show.]

I mean. What am I even still doing here? The show is treading water and I end up disappointed more often than not. I'm still holding out a little hope that they actually will do something interesting with Eddie and his sea-monkeys, but I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — TO HOLD, TO DEVOUR

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : you and kuroo have been dating for awhile but now it’s time to take it to the next step. but first, kuroo has a secret to share.

꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI. kuroo tetsuro x reader ; virginity loss (kuroo), reader guides him through it, kuroo is a quicker learner, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names (sweetheart)— WC : 2.2k

Kuroo Tetsuro was a virgin.

It was surprising, to say the least. The sultry sentences that easily flowed from his sensual tongue that always held an air of confidence had fooled you into believing he was a man who had a lot of experience. 

But after awhile, the more intimate things became, the more the words started thinning out and that silver tongue of his lost its sparkle.

Now fully seated in his lap, half clothed and full of want — he falters.

“What is it?” You pull back, tilting your head a little. The blush that once dusted along his cheekbones has spread throughout his body, his chest a fiery pink that you couldn’t help but run your fingers along, trying to soothe the burn with your electrifying touch.

Kuroo’s breath hitches at the contact, his torso rising and falling unsteadily with a distinctive sheen of desire over it. His swollen lips were painted red with passion, kiss bitten and practically begging to be consumed once again. 

The slightly shaky hands he had gripped along your hips dug deeper into the flesh there, nails sinking in to claim every inch of you, leaving crescent moons in it’s wake. 

Unintentionally, he pulls you onto him more, feeling the effects of his arousal throb against your thigh, the heavy press of his cock nestling between your covered core. The sensation makes him shiver, involuntarily pushing his hips up a little more to chase the heat, stuttering at the friction.

“I’ve never done this before.” No teasing lilts, no killer smirk. For the first time you were faced with an entirely vulnerable Kuroo — a man who you did not have the pleasure of knowing but the thrill of discovering him shot down your spine as a new warmth blossoms in your lower abdomen.

“Do you want to?” You try to keep your eagerness down but the thought of being Kuroo’s first was all too exciting. Getting to touch him where no one else has, staking your claim along his body and branding it as his first. The one he will never forget, the one he already hopes will be his last.

“Yes.” He breathes out. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his willingness but you swore you could see some self doubt work his way through his head and shine out of his pretty amber eyes — a brief deer in the headlights before morphing back into the darkened gaze of a panther ready to pounce.

“Want me to show you?” The hands that were resting on his exposed chest slowly slid down, barely slipping under the waistband of his pants. Kuroo lets out a soft gasp, eyes flickering down as you tease him, pants tightening that much more. 

“Yes.” A sudden burst of strength shot through him, a spike of confidence as his desire overpowered his nerves. The moment your fingers wrap themselves around his length, he bucks into your fist — a faint, yet needy sound slipping past his lips. “Yes, please.”

You lean in briefly, brushing your lips against his as you steal the breath from his lungs, spinning around all of the thoughts in his head. All too soon, you pull back, running your thumb along his tip.

“First, we have to help each other out a little bit.” Your voice was level, soft. something he could hone in on and sink his teeth into, listening to every word you had to say. Wide lust blown pools of amber flitting from your eyes to your heaving chest, to where your fist closed around his pulsing cock. “Take off my clothes, Tetsu.”

His cock jumped at the way you breathed his name out. The hands that were securely pressed into your hips fold in, fingers dragging along your skin and hooking under the loose shorts you had on. Deftly, he slips them down as you ease up a little to let him fully tear them off. 

“Wow.” A gust of air left Kuroo’s lungs as he looked at your cunt, fingers already reaching toward it. The two of you have never gotten this far together and he was more than eager to learn how to please you. Slowly, he runs a digit along your folds. “You’re already so wet.”

Curiosity strikes him, plunging his finger into your depths, causing you to let out a soft gasp. The sound went straight to his cock, somehow making him even harder than he was before. If he didn’t sink into you soon, he’s sure he would burst just at the way you clench around his knuckle.

“Tell me what you feel.” You encourage him, your wrist flicking, squeezing along his tip and earning you another one of his delicious groans. But it wasn’t enough, even bucking into your fist didn’t bring him the relief he craved, the kind he’s never tasted before in his life.

“So warm and tight.” Kuroo slowly thrusts his finger in, memorizing how your walls constrict around his digit. The way you were clamping it sent his mind reeling, boiling down to one question that barely slipped past his lips. “You sure i’ll be able to fit? Seems like it’ll be a stretch.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Your hand speeds up a bit, Kuroo’s forehead falling against your chest as he tries to stop panting. The room was getting too hot, the remaining clothes he had on were far too constricting for him. “When we get there, you’ll see.”

A part of you wondered if you should finish him off quickly so maybe he’d last longer once he’s finally inside of you. But the thought was quickly dismissed by the guttural groan he let out. Having him come deep in your cunt for the first time would be worth it.

While his fingers work you open, your hand retreats from his cock. Kuroo stopped his motions, looking up at you with a slight pout on his face, need surfacing in his eyes and clouding it with a dark desire. 

“Why’d you stop?” His shaky, unsteady breath hit your skin, his other hand tightening around your hip, needing something to ground him. Desire bubbled up within him and he was moments away from having it boil over.

“Because I want you to fuck me now.” With that, you carefully slide his pants off so they pool around his ankles. Kuroo’s breath hitched as the cool air met his newly exposed skin. 

“Fuck.” Kuroo muttered, letting you do what you needed to do. Reluctantly, he slid his finger out of your cunt, bringing the digit up to his mouth to get a proper taste. He all but moans in delight, eyes on you as he awaits your next move.

Gently, you push him so his back sinks into the couch cushion, straddling him properly so his desperately reddened cock laid on his stomach.

“Almost there.” You glide over his length, spreading your arousal all over him as you simulate riding him. nestled between your folds, you can feel him pulse with need. “You’re doing so well.”

Kuroo let out what could be described as a whine, the praise caused his eyes to flutter shut for a moment, hips jerking up against your core.

Before you slide down, you swirl his tip around your entrance one last time. Your nails dig into his shoulders as your cunt starts to envelope his cock. It was as if he was carving his way through, the stretch sending jolts throughout your body. 

Never in your life have you felt something fill you up so well. Your thighs tremble as you try to steady yourself, baring the sting in favor of Kuroo’s pleasure.

And the saccharine sound that left your lover's lips had you freezing, eyes snapping to his. The look on his face was a new sight — so blissed out, so vulnerable.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be so sensitive, Tetsu.” You coo in his ear as he tries to hold himself back, keeping the rest of those sweet sounds stored behind his wall of pride. Something that was already cracking at the seams.

“Don’t-“ Kuroo gasped, his head falling back onto the couch, bangs barely covering the desperate look in his eyes. “Don’t — hah, don’t fuckin’ move. Please.”

The sight before you was too good to pass up, so you listen. Mercifully letting him get used to the feeling as he splits you open. The subtle throb of his cock only enhanced how full you felt, the pressure starting to get to you.

“My my,” You coo down at him. “I’ve never seen Kuroo Tetsuro so lost for words.”

His dick twitched in you at the tease so you squeeze back in retaliation.

“Haah — just give me a minute sweetheart, I’m sure I’ll come up with something.” The man sounded absolutely breathless, all of the air sucked out of his lungs from the way you enveloped him. “Just can’t help it, you just feel too good, so so good.”

“Wanna feel even better?” To further your point, you clench around him again, hands running along his chest as the pads of your finger glaze over his nipple.

“Please.” Kuroo hastily sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, pressing down and doing what he can to steady himself for what’s to come. 

As soon as the plea rolled off his tongue, you start to move your hips. The pace you set was languid, taking your time as you dragged out each motion. The way his cock slowly slid out of you, your walls clenching around and all but begging for him to stay in place — only for you to drop back down.

It wasn’t often you were in a position to tease Kuroo Tetsuro, and far be it for you to pass up an opportunity like this. The slower, the better as his mind slowly descends into a haze of desire.

“Need more.” He groans, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. His eyes glued to where the two of you connect, watching as your essence coats his cock every time you sit back up. You pay him no mind as he struggles on the couch, squirming for more friction. “Baby, please.”

Even the pet name doesn’t phase you, not when he already looked so fucked out. How was it possible for someone to look so good while looking so pitiful, so at your mercy. 

The inescapable need that fueled through his veins was working overtime and your pointed ignorance was the catalyst he needed to set off.

Gripping onto your plush backside, Kuroo starts to chase what he wants. Ever the determined man, he thrusts up into you stealing all the control you once held in the palm of your hand.

“Tetsu— !” You gasp, falling forward, clutching onto him as he sets an unsteady pace. 

“You feel too good.” Half lidded eyes meet yours, his jaw slack and losing all function beyond saying your name like a prayer. A litany of pleasurable sounds tumble out after it — a moan, a groan, even a whimper from the way your walls clutch onto him. “‘M not going to last long.”

“It’s okay,” You reach for his hand and bring it directly to your clit. The contact had you jolting forward, something that did not go unnoticed by Kuroo. His thumb experimentally circles around the nub, captivated at the way it slowly unravels you. “Oh-“

“Yeah? That feel good?” Kuroo asks. A switch flipped in his mind and the pleasure he was after turns into a new chase. One that involved having you come undone around him, earning your praise as much as he could. The only thing that was screaming in his head was that he needed to take care of you just like you were taking care of him. “Huh? Need you to use your words.”

“Yes!” You mewl, “Feels so good, Tetsu. I swear I can feel you here.” 

To prove your point, your hand splays along your stomach and he groans, driving up into your harder as electricity shoots down his spine.

“Yeah? I want you to feel me here.” His lips brush over the cusp of your breast, right where your beating heart was racing to be with him. The act mixed with his relentless thumb has you clamping around his cock, moaning out as you come undone. 

Kuroo’s hips stutter in surprise, pumping in once, twice more before spilling into you, his teeth grazing along your skin but not quite ready to sink themselves in yet.

The room was silent, spare for the joint battle of catching your breath. Kuroo’s eyes never leave yours, his hands trailing along your dewy sides, helping your body come down from its high. 

“So?” You ask breathlessly. Kuroo smirks, flipping you so you’re under him, sprawled out on the couch. His lithe fingers collect some of the mix of your essence, before pushing it back in. “Tets—“

“Sorry.” Although there wasn’t an ounce of guilt in his touch as his palm smooths along your thigh before he lowers himself onto you, pinning you down. You can feel his length harden against your skin, his tip already prodding your entrance once again. “But we’re gonna have to do that again.”

[writtenapoiogy]

consumed by flames; jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x f!reader

summary: bathtub funtime 18+

word count: 2.0k

warnings: nsfw. 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w lil plot, bathtub sex, jacaerys is a pleaser, jacaerys loves wife!reader and creating heirs, fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, slight a little more than slight choking, breeding kink, slight dirty talk.

a/n: briefly proofread yet again it is 1am almost 2 and i've been up since 5am yesterday but i had to get this out 😁

You and Jace had just come back from a ride on Vermax. After the war, life on Dragonstone had been peaceful for a short while. Sometimes you wish you and Jace could lock yourselves away at Dragonstone and just kick everyone else out. That sadly, was not possible.

It had been a couple of months since Queen Rhaenyra took her rightful seat on the Iron Throne.

Which means the two of you were also still newlyweds.

Due to the war, You and Jacaerys had to wait to wed, which was dreadful for both parties. Once Rhaenyra had her coronation your wedding ceremony soon took place.

Within the two months since You and Jacaerys spent half that time at the Red Keep enjoying the celebrations and helping get Jace’s younger siblings settled in.

Nearly every day following your wedding, you and your husband had laid together. Every time better than the last.

You and Jacaerys had only been back at Dragonstone for roughly two weeks. The first week was spent wrapped in each other’s warmth. The smells of sex never leaving your chambers. Jacaerys was a man on a mission. He constantly wanted to please you. Teasing you till he knew he was the only one that could satisfy you the way you craved.

After that pleasure-filled week, everything sort of died down. You and Jace had been busy with the tasks of being the Prince and Princess of Dragonstone. A weight you were not expecting to be hit with.

Your handmaiden had drawn you a bath to rid you of the sweat and scent of smoke that seeped into your skin. You were about to take off your robe and step into the hot water when your husband walked through the door.

“Jacaerys?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in your husband clad in a robe. “My husband, if you also wish to bathe I am sure we can get someone to draw you one aswell.”

It just dawned on you that this was the first time You and Jace had been alone in almost a week. Alone. Alone without one or the other being asleep. The stresses and demands of the day taking a toll on one of you or, sometimes, both of you.

“I do not wish to bathe alone.” He glided over to you and began to untie your robe. “I do miss my wife.”

Jacaerys ran his hands down your sternum after loosening the knot. You took a deep inhale feeling his fiery touch against your ice-cold skin.

“I keep my bath water quite scalding, my love. I do not wish to harm your skin.”

Jacaerys looked at you with a smirk. “You know the words of House Targaryen. I am Fire and Blood. Warm water will not harm me.”

Jacaerys was right about one thing. He was Fire and Blood. Everything he did set you ablaze. From the way he spoke to the way he looked at you. Oh, gods, and his touch. It was like his hands were made of molten lava. A beautiful contrast to your frigid skin. His warmness brought a sense of comfort to you.

“How could I forget.”

Jace’s lip twitched into a smile. He loved you with his entire being. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He placed his lips on yours in a sweet soft kiss. “Let me help wash you.” He spoke against your lips

“As you wish, my prince.” You stole another kiss from him. Missing his soft lips.

He pushed your robe off your shoulders and watched it cascade to the floor. You breathe in a sharp inhale as your body gets overtaken by the chill in the air. Your nipples harden and Jace cannot take his eyes off of them, even if he tried.

He offers his hand and you gladly take it. He walked you over to the tub not letting go till you had both of your feet in the water. Jace went to grab the new lavender soap that was imported specifically at your request.

As he walked back towards you, you couldn’t help but notice the tent in his robe. Seeing that made you feel an ache deep inside of you. An emptiness that you need to be filled.

“Just lean back, let me take care of you my sweet.”

Jacaerys wet the bar of soap and lathered it onto his hands. The sweet and calm scent engulfed his sense of smell. He set the soap down and began washing you. He started at your neck and shoulders slowly and firmly massaging the soap into your skin

He did this across the entirety of your body. Jace’s touch brought your body aflame. He was avoiding the parts of you that craved his touch, intensely. You let out a low whine when his hands ran down your side lightly passing over the sides of your breasts. The slightest brush and this man had your body consumed by flames.

You heard a light chuckle from behind you. “Do you find something amusing, Husband?”

Jacaerys shook his head, “Not at all.” He placed a wet kiss on your neck, inhaling your lavender-infused skin. He ran his hands back up and cupped your breasts this time, you couldn’t help but moan.

“Jacaerys…”

And his hands went back down this time spreading your legs apart and you felt the air leave your lungs.

“Jacaerys..”

He was dragging his hands close to your heat. It was right there. And just when you thought he was going to help dull this ache, he withdrew his hands, again.

“Jace, please. You know what I crave. Why are you withholding it from me.”

“Because it is fun.”

You could feel his sly smirk against your neck.

“Say please.” He demanded, his hands cupping your breasts and tweaking your nipples. He was making it incredibly hard to focus on anything.

“Plea-.”

“In High Valyrian.”

He had been getting you to learn High Valyrian. Something about you knowing his mother tongue made him swell with pride. It made him feel as though it would make your family stronger once you have children.

Also, he found it very very hot.

“Kostilus.”

“Hmm, that’s my girl.” Jacaerys brought one hand to your cheek turning your face to his, to take your lips in a fiery heat.

As soon as his mouth hit yours, your own fell agape. You craned your neck desperately wanting to feel his tongue against yours. Oh, how you both missed this. Feeling so needy for each other. Your tongues lapped at the other. You let out whines and whimpers into his mouth.

His right hand stopped toying with your nipples and slid down to your core. Jace rubbed light circles against your clit, eliciting a moan from deep inside your chest. His hand that was on your cheeky slowly slid down your throat till he wrapped his long fingers around it. This made you break away from the kiss. His amber eyes had such a dark look in them. As if you too lit him aflame.

Feeling him around you like this made you dizzy. Engulfed in his smell. In his heat. The fire in his blood.

When Jace thought you had had enough torture he slid two digits into your entrance, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck, Jace.” Your head lulled back onto his shoulder. You kept eye contact with him. Jace felt some precome leak from his throbbing cock as he looked at you like this. Spread out for him. Slowly grinding your hips down on his fingers. He added a bit more pressure around your neck. Watching as your mouth fell open, you tried to get some more air in your lungs. Solely depending on him for your air, for your desires, for everything.

He kept pumping his fingers into you a such a slow murderous pace. You don’t know how he does it but he had you shaking on the verge of your climax in mere minutes. You were squirming, moaning his name and a litany of curses. You pulled your hand out of the bath water and threw it into his curls. A guttural moan left your lips when the pads of his fingers hit that soft spot deep inside of you.

You came around his fingers with a deep mewl gripping and pulling his hair in the process. The act caused him to whine in your ear. It had been too long. He kept pumping his fingers into you bringing you down from your high. He removed his other hand from your neck and was rubbing you anywhere his hand could reach as he whispered in your ear in High Valyrian. Telling you how good you did.

Somehow in your daze, you understood him.“Get in here with me, please. I wish to feel your skin against mine.” You breathed.

Jacaerys is quick to shed his robe. He pushed you forward slightly and climbed in right behind you. He situated you so that he was able to rub his cock threw your folds. Your chest pressed against his back. You sigh at the feeling of his warm body against yours.

You began to rock your hips, feeling his cock rub through your slit with ease. You heard him breathing heavily in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You tried to speak and tell him how desperately you craved for him to be inside of you. But all you could do was babble. The sensation of his tip as it hit your clit over and over again.

“I know, you do not have to say it. Gods, I know.” Jace lifted you up just enough to position himself at your entrance. He swiftly wrapped his left around around you and slowly eased you onto his cock.

You both gasp when he’s fully seated within you. The head of his cock mushed against that spot again. He somehow always knew how to get to it. Jacaerys, with one hand on your ass cheek and his other wrapped around you, slowly lifted you before he slammed you back down on him. A whimper left your lips, your hands flew to the sides of the bath to prepare yourself for his onslaught.

Even when he was going harder or faster he still managed to fuck you with so much love and tenderness.

Jace began slow. Let you get used to him inside of you again. His pace, which quickened by his third deep thrust, had you saying his name in a tantalizing prayer. He kept going constantly hitting your gspot over and over again. The repetition. The mere torture against your most sensitive spot had you reeling.

Water splashing.

You two moaning each other’s names.

And the smell of lavender and sex was all-consuming to the both of you.

You didn’t know what kind of sounds were leaving your mouth nor did you care. Right now all you cared about was that your sweet husband was finally back inside of you. Pleasing you the way you loved. The way he always does.

Your hips bounced with his movements out of pure instinct. “Jacaerys. Please.” You didn’t even know what you were pleading for at this point. But he did. He coaxed you into your second climax of the night. This one hit you hard. Drenching him in your release. You could feel yourself pulsating around his cock. Begging him to come inside of you over and over again.

Jace groaned at the sensation of you coming around him. “Oh you’re gonna look so perfect when my seed takes. When you get all plump from having our heir inside of you.” He kept pumping into you. His thrusts now getting erratic.

“Yes, Gods, please.” You said in a satisfied gasp.

Even his seed was hot. As he came inside of you, you felt his searing essence flow into your cunt. You bore yourself down on him. You wanted nothing more than to keep all of him come inside of you. You wanted to give him an heir. You needed it. You needed his seed to take. The thought of you carrying his child mixed with the feeling of his come leaking out of you had you coming again.

“Fuck.” Jacaerys leaned his forehead against your back as he caught his breath. “We should take more baths together.”

You chuckle, “Oh but how will we ever keep clean, my prince.”

[k-hotchoisan]

hi I saw that your requests are open! can you write about needy/horny hongjoong being a messy kisser and overstimulation (only if you're comfortable with it) 💕 tysm 💕

At this point I should just make a masterlist of ateez members being perverts because that’s where all of these fics are swerving to (not that I’m complaining 😛)

Thank you for the wait, here’s your meal ✨🌶️

wetting your lips

<hongjoong x fem!reader>

He’s just your sugar daddy right? No strings attached. At least that’s what he thinks until the both of you make out, and you see how fucking deep his obsession with you runs.

Genre/warnings: perverted, possessive, DILF sugar daddy!Hongjoong, smut, Hongjoong is possessive as much as he’s horny (we love that for him), blowjob, deep throat, cumming un/touched, overstimulation, sloppy, making out, vibrator play, unprotected sex, cream pie

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe

🩷 Stay perverted: the masterlist

“No strings attached”, is what Hongjoong would tell you during the earlier days of this transactional relationship. Little did he realise he would be eating his fucking words. 

Initially, it started off with spoiling you with dinners and gifts. Truthfully, it was kind of jarring—solely because it was something you never thought of stepping your foot in. Hongjoong was fine with the arrangement, showering you with gifts and dinners. He was always polite and gentle, sometimes even flirty with you. He never brought up intimacy—at least, not until the third month mark. 

And you wonder to yourself how did Hongjoong keep all of that to himself, because he was something in bed. He wasn’t rough by any means—dominant—definitely. You could tell he got off taking the lead in bed on top of fucking the ever loving shit out of you. 

Fucking him—or being fucked by him was nothing like your previous partners. Despite him being significantly older than you, he had some sort of vigor, one that definitely always left you wanting more. He started becoming more flirtatious, his hands always around your body whenever he could, enjoying seeing red tint flush against your cheeks whenever he said something dirty. He began picking you from campus more often as well. 

It was to the extent that on some days during your classes, you would blank out briefly, whatever you were supposed to be absorbing completely replaced by your little escapades with him the night before—him driving his cock right into your wet hole from below, muttering such dirty things—“that’s my good girl, taking my cock like that. You love that don’t you?”, and the way he would hold your thighs down so you wouldn’t squirm and take his fucking cock like his good little girl while you leak all over him and completely break. By the time you snapped out of it, your thighs were squeezed on reflex. You were never gonna fucking tell Hongjoong that, obviously. 

There was one thing you realised he doesn’t do during sex—kissing. It wasn’t that he would avoid you if you kissed him—you didn’t initiate because he never placed his lips in the proximity of yours. You chalked it off as probably something he wasn’t comfortable with, and you weren’t about to force him anyway. 

Then another popped—up the more Hongjoong had you around him—his possessiveness progressively built. Initially it was subtle; Hongjoong would rest his hand on your thigh if he was seated beside you—he loved doing that, especially when your thighs are bare. There was an instance where he was picking you up from campus, he called your name, pulling your attention away from your friend. Your male friend. 

“Boyfriend?” He’d ask. You stay frozen, unsure of what to reply to your friend. But you shake your head while you plaster a smile before you waved him off and entered Hongjoong’s car. 

As you clip your seatbelt on, Hongjoong casts you a glance from the side before he presses against the accelerator. 

“Who was that?”

You look up at him and blink. “Classmate”, you reply curtly, before pulling out your phone.

“The both of you seem close”, he comments, shifting his gaze away back to road. 

“Yeah he’s my group mate”, you reply, nonchalant about the tightening grip Hongjoong had on the steering wheel. He’s irritated, his jaw is clenched but he doesn’t know why.

“What were the both of you talking about?” He asks next. Your gaze lifts from the phone to the road ahead of you, wondering why Hongjoong was suddenly asking you all of these questions. 

“Nothing. He was asking who you were. That’s all.” 

Hongjoong’s jaw tightens slightly more. His eyes don’t leave the road. 

“And what did you reply?”

You finally whip your head to face Hongjoong, confusion partnered with furrowed eyebrows all over your face. 

“Why does that matter?”

“Answer me, doll.” 

And you immediately simmer down slightly, your eyes back on the road. 

“What would you want me to answer?” You deflect, hoping, praying, that he’d leave this alone. It was making your heart pump a hundred miles per second. 

“I asked you first.”

Now you can’t help but to roll your eyes. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

Hongjoong cocks an eyebrow. “Elaborate.”

Your arms are crossed. There is a prick of irritation stemming from your heart, but you aren’t able to pinpoint the cause of it. 

“He asked me if you were my boyfriend, but I didn’t reply.”

This time, Hongjoong quietens down, but you catch a glint in his eye—something you’ve never seen before. 

Boy, were you in for a fucking ride. 

The moment you step into his penthouse, you make a beeline for the showers, like you always did, but this time, your heart is hammering in your chest. As the hot water washes the soap off, you wonder about Hongjoong’s recent behaviour towards you. Even though Hongjoong has always been a direct person, he’s like a puzzle you could never figure out. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t seem to get him out of your head. Especially when he’s been more affectionate recently. It’s sending you into a spiral. 

Hongjoong is drying your hair as he combs it. And it’s the little things like these that makes your heart flutter. But he still hasn’t answered you about why he was questioning you so much in the car over a friend.

You turn to him. 

“Now you answer me.”

Hongjoong is avoiding your gaze. The prick in your heart is starting to germinate. 

“Then I’ll accept his date. He was asking me out anyway.” 

That makes Hongjong whip his head so fucking fast, and he’s glaring daggers into you. 

“No. You’re not going.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“And why not? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. You said it before—no strings attached, right?” 

Hongjoong’s jaw clenches. This is driving him insane. He knows. He just doesn’t want to admit it. And he’s about to find out that this would be the turning point. 

“It doesn’t apply this time. I’m not allowing you.”

“You think we’re something? Yeah, wefuck, but youdon’t even kiss me,” You spit. You’ve never challenged Hongjoong like this before, especially given the basis of this peculiar relationship. This was definitely new to you. And him. 

Hongjoong stares at you. Hard. His expression is indecipherable. He shifts closer to you, you who remains still, gaze tracing his movements as Hongjoong closes the distance between the both of you. His thumb presses against your chin, his fingers holding your chin up. You scoff internally, because it’s not like you’re running away-

-and his lips are pressed onto yours. Your mind is buzzing. So much chemicals are colliding in your mind. Sure, the fucking sent you into another realm, but from a kiss? Maybe you just didn’t expect Hongjoong to actually kiss you. 

Hongjoong’s head is as spinning as madly as yours is. There’s a reason why he doesn’t kiss his flings, his partners. He doesn’t like the idea of how kissing turns him vulnerable. He doesn’t care about the emotional connections. But with you? Dear god, he could break his own fucking rules for that. In his own perverse ways. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss you. But he was afraid of the entanglement it would ensue should it happen. It drives him crazy. Even though he was the one who foolishly mentioned no strings attached, he swears he’s the one at his feet for you. 

The kiss deepens as Hongjoong coaxes you to part your lips, and you do, shakily, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Hongjoong stumbles slightly, but his lips are messy against yours. He swallows hard when the both of you pull back, a thin string of spit slowly pulling apart between two swollen lips. 

It’s only then you realised what the hell you’ve done. You’ve gained clarity after the steamy make out session, but one glance at Hongjoong, his cheeks and ears and flushed red, and his eyes are hazed. 

You tug against the drenched boxers Hongjong has on, pulling it down as he peels the silk lounge wear off you. Your breath is heavy at the sight beneath his pants—thick white, leaking and trickling down his thick and heavy shaft.

Hongjoong’s eyes are growing wilder by the second. His hands catch yours and he places your palm on his chest. You feel it—his heartbeat is as wild as his eyes. 

Before you realise it, your back hits the mattress and Hongjoong is towering over you. Your hands are off him, but his hands are trailing all over you—cupping your tits before the sensation of his fingers are tickling your sides, and then he’s at your thighs. He casts you one more glance. 

“If you don’t stop me now, I don’t know what I might do”, Hongjoong warns gently. 

“Hongjoong”, you call out, the tips of his fingers trailing teasingly against the curve of his jaw. “What else have you been keeping in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The sides of Hongjoong’s lips crack into a smile. “So many fucking things, doll.” 

It’s not as if you never used a vibrator with Hongjoong during sex, in fact, he almost seemed to always hold back his enthusiasm when you told him you wanted to use the vibrator during sex. 

But what you failed to realise was how frenzied he almost seemed to be whenever the vibrator came into play. Little did you know his true fantasy was to stuff you full with it, and watch you writhe and beg while he fucks his hand. 

You swallow hard when the vibrator hits the perfect spot again. You push your thighs together, trying to get the toy to hit the spongy spot once again, because fuck, you were so fucking close to cumming. It feels so fucking good. You glance at Hongjoong, who twirls the controller with this pretty fingers. He looks so sickeningly satisfied, watching the way you’re squirming, trying to reach your high, your eyes so glazed out, your whines sounding like symphony to his ears when you beg him to let you cum when he lowers the vibration intensity with his thumb. 

“Hongjoong”, you choke, jerking once more when the vibrator ups it’s buzz once more. Now tears streaming down your cheeks from the constant jump between the lack of and overstimulation. “I wanna cum. Let me cum, please.” You’re practically grinding your hips against the sheets, so much cream leaking past the vibrator that if you sat up, the toy would definitely slip out, and that’s why Hongjoong has you seated like a good girl, legs closed to keep the toy stuffed nicely in you. 

The imagery of you giggling with your male classmate turns Hongjoong’s gaze dark. He cracks a smile, devoid of anything pleasant before he rips your orgasm away from you once more, hearing you cuss for the nth time with your legs twitching. 

“No.” He simply says. “Not yet.”

You hiccup, so fucked out from the pulsing pleasure that you don’t know how much more of this you can take. 

You watch hungrily as Hongjoong strokes his fat, red-tipped cock slowly, beads of precum leaking off the slit, listening to him sigh shakily as his hands slip down his slippery shaft. 

“Fuck yourself with your little toy. If you can last till I cum, I’ll make sure you’ll cum so fucking good, doll”, he proposes. You nod as you bite your lip, desperate to get some form of release, even though you weren’t sure if you were gonna last. 

You spread your legs wide open in front of Hongjoong, gingerly pulling out the vibrator, groaning at the way it drags out of your wet cunt before pushing it back in, your toes curling from how good it feels. Hongjoong almost loses it here, watching how your pussy stretches when you push the toy in. 

And you slowly fuck yourself with the toy, letting yourself fall back against the plush, thick pillows behind you. You feel like you’re doing okay, that is, until Hongjoong amps up the fucking intensity and you’re back to shaking and your voice climbs in octave when you whimper. You’re almost tempted to just fucking release it—it feels so fucking good. Just when you’re about to give up, the intensity slows down to a dull buzz, and you take a sharp inhale, your eyes meeting Hongjoong as he watches you like a predator while his hand makes more of a mess on his pretty cock. You still fuck yourself slowly on the toy, even though it’s by instinct that you want to fuck yourself stupid with it. 

Not yet. You wanted to be Hongjoong’s good girl. 

You lift your hips slightly, the angle letting the vibrator push into deeper parts of your pussy, and you wonder if you regret it or thank the fucking gods for it because when Hongjoong sees you do it, he raises the vibration, making you gasp, your legs snapping shut. 

“Keep them open, baby. You wanna cum, don’t you?” Hongjoong reminds you. He’s obviously enjoying the fucking show—the clear precum slowly turning more white and thicker by the minute. 

“Can’t help it, Joong. Feels so fuckin amazing”, you mutter, hearing Hongjoong’s pretty chuckle echo in your ears while he watches you failing at holding your composure while the vibrator is fucking its vibrations right into your fucking core. 

“Fuck. Look at that pretty little pussy of yours. I’m almost jealous,” Hongjoong sighs as he lowers the vibrations once more, simply to admire how easily the toy slides out of your cunt only to be pushed back again, completely drenched and sticky. 

Without a doubt, watching you fall apart while you fuck yourself like that is sending Hongjoong into a fucking spiral. The one time where he almost walked into you fucking yourself with your dildo triggered something so perverted in him. And before he realised it, his pants pooled a dark patch watching you slap the toy right at your clit, before you would slowly drag it down to your soaked cunt, then pushing it in slowly before you stuffed your poor cunt full. The icing on top? When you were moaning his name sounding so fucking needy,  and before he knew it, cum had soaked his pants. Since then, he’d stay by the doorway of his bedroom, often never telling you when he would be back, just to catch you fucking yourself with your toys just so he could indulge in his fantasies. 

Just when you’re getting used to the low vibrations again, Hongjoong amps it up once more, watching your eyes roll back when he ups it at the moment you had the vibrator stuffed into your pussy. Before you could even register, you feel a tug from behind, and your concentration is at Hongjoong—who has his hands in your hair, pulling it away from your face while he kneels so his cock is right at your face. 

You look up at him, your free hand immediately going up to fuck his cock while you continue to fuck yourself with the vibrator. Somehow, it only makes you feel so fucking good. 

“Open wide, doll”, Hongjoong gestures, giving you a tug from the back so your mouth is at the tip of his cock, not missing the way you moan slightly at his roughness. You stick your tongue out, lapping the thick cream around his cock before he pushes the back of your head, your mouth covering the entirety of his cock. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck. So fucking amazing”, Hongjoong bites the inner of his cheek, completely dropping the remote onto the bed as his other hand joins to the back of your head. 

Your mind is completely mushed—mouth being stuff full of cock while the vibrator is pushing right your g-spot, at such a mind breaking intensity. You try your best to bob your head, at one point letting Hongjoong fuck your face while groaning at the way he’s tugging your hair, adding on to the rapidly building orgasm that was about to burst, even though drool and precum were trickling down the corners of your lips from how much he’s creaming down your throat. 

His cock twitches and he pulls out slightly before he pushes in again once more, barely giving you the time of the day. “Cumming. I’m cumming, doll”, he grunts, his hips pressing against you. “Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl, aren’t you?”

Your eyes roll back from the pleasure, your legs twitch at that moment—your orgasm spraying out of you while it floods your entire system at the same time, your mind completely going blank while Hongjoong has cum down your throat, the tangy salty fluids following down your throat while your tears leak past your eyes from the sheer fucking pleasure. Your fingers have left pretty scratches down his thighs, and you’re sure he’s gonna love it later. You never thought it would have come down to this.

Hongjoong pulls out slowly, his hands letting go of your hair, stroking your jaw instead before he kneels before you, and engulfs your lips, tasting himself in your tongue. 

There he goes again—his eyes completely glazed out when his lips are on yours, like he can’t get enough of it. And he doesn’t—because he doesn’t soften. 

“So good. Need more, doll. You can take it right? Take whatever I give you”, Hongjoong whispers, the tint flushing his cheeks once more. He makes you face away from him this time—back against his chest, and his wet cock is right at your pussy. 

You swear he’s gonna be the death of you. 

Hongjoong rubs his cockhead against your hole, before he pushes himself in, groaning as you take him inch by inch, stretching your pussy out so well. You’re beginning to drool again—almost shutting off the moment he has you filled up to the brim. 

“Warm and tight. Fucking perfect, doll”, he sighs. You feel yourself drip with more cream. 

Then he starts to fuck you from below, and you’re immediately grasping for any ounce of sanity left in you. But it’s obvious Hongjoong is only gonna fuck it all out of you by the time this over. You lift your leg up by instinct, letting him hit deeper into you, and he groans at how tightly you’re squeezing him. 

His arms are wrapped around you, more tighter and more intimate than usual. And all the thoughts and theories are completely muffled when you feel his cockhead pressing against your g-spot once again. 

“You’re so pretty when you look like that, baby. So fucked out and used by me”, he laughs right in your ears. 

“Yeah. So perfectly used by you”, you agree, your hips bouncing off his cock as well. 

“Of course. My girl is perfect”, his reply sending butterflies flooding your stomach, though you were certain it was mostly because of his cock. 

The thrusting becomes more desperate—the sound of wet skin slapping only growing louder by the second, it makes your toes curl and your head spin. Hongjoong feels so fucking good in you and you swear you could get completely drunk off his cock. It’s also the fact that he’s jackhammering his cock right into you right after he made you swallow his fucking cum moments before that’s making you so disgustingly hooked onto him. And sometimes, it scares you how much you just want him all for yourself. Little did you realise you’ve flooded every crevice of Hongjoong’s mind when the intimacy begins to intensify. Every time he tells himself that he shouldn’t let his feelings mix with the pleasure, you unintentionally pull him back in again, and now he’s completely hooked. 

“Mine, mine, mine”, Hongjoong whispers, biting down onto your neck as a soft moan passes through your ears, and you feel warm, thick cum flood your walls. Stars flood your eyelids as your second orgasm crashes into you, your fingernails leaving light trails of red on his thigh while your pussy milks Hongjoong dry, more cum seeping out 

In between pants and catching breaths as both your highs gradually die down, you turn around to face Hongjoong, your lips ready to part to say something, but Hongjoong beats you to it. 

“Now you can let your little friend know that you have a partner. A partner who’s fucking head over heels for you.”

[amiableness]

hiii!

first, i’m loving this dad!james series its genuinely so heart fulfilling so thank you for taking time out of your day to write

now i’m not sure if this will spark any interest but maybe dad!james and r have been dating for a like a month but no one knows and then the whole gang (or just rem and sirius) come over and like James is like extra touchy with her which like he was before but more so now so they’re both kinda like ??? until james is like she’s my girlfriend

ily

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 977 words

thank you sm babe! i love writing for you all! hope you like it <3

“Do they seem off to you?” Remus murmurs, his gaze following James as he heads into the kitchen. He had muttered something about helping you with the tea, but it wasn’t like you really needed the help.

The whole afternoon, Remus had noticed how James couldn’t keep his eyes off you, his gaze filled with that familiar, adoring warmth. That in itself wasn’t unusual—James had always looked at you that way. But what really caught Remus off guard was how openly you were returning those looks, your eyes just as soft, filled with the same affection. It wasn’t just the casual brush of his fingers against yours or his hand resting briefly on your lower back as you passed. It was also in the subtle, consistent touches—his knee brushing against yours under the table or the way his hand would linger on your arm during conversations.

You both appeared entirely and undeniably in love.

Sirius, however, is lost in his own world, meticulously taking apart one of Henry’s Lego sets just to rebuild it. “No,” he replies, not even looking up, his fingers expertly snapping the pieces back together. “Why? Did you notice something?”

“He hasn’t stopped touching her since we’ve got here.” Remus continues to stare at the doorway, as if expecting it to provide an answer somehow. The wall separating the kitchen from the living room blocks his view, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is different.

“He’s always like that with her.” Sirius says, focusing on a new Lego piece that refuses to snap into place. His frustration is clear as he twists and turns the piece, trying to make it fit.

“No,” Remus replies, shaking his head with a hint of uncertainty. “I’m sure I heard him call her ‘baby’ earlier.”

Sirius finally looks up, curiosity piqued by Remus’s tone. “When did you hear that?”

“When we first got here,” Remus says, his gaze distant as he recalls the moment. “James was talking to her in a more intimate way than usual.”

Sirius considers this, his frown softening slightly. “Oh, he probably did. He’s always calling her something sweet,” Sirius says with a casual shrug. “Lovesick is what he is.”

“He’s never called her ‘baby,’” Remus insists, his brow furrowing. “It’s different, I swear it.”

Sirius sighs and shakes his head, still engrossed in his Lego project. “We’ve thought that for years, and nothing’s ever really changed. Maybe this is just another nickname of his.”

Remus swears he hears you sigh James' name from the kitchen, light and airy, and before Sirius can react, Remus is on his feet, tugging at his shirt with a sense of urgency. Sirius starts to protest, a frown forming on his face, but Remus doesn’t bother with an explanation. “C’mon,” he insists, pulling him toward the kitchen without another word.

“Nothing’s different, Rem. They’re just—” Sirius’s words die in his throat as he catches sight of you both.

James has you perched on the edge of the counter, his body firmly nestled between your legs, the warmth of him pressing against you in all the right ways. One hand cradles your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tilts your head just so, deepening the kiss. His other hand grips your hip, fingers curling into the soft flesh where your shirt has bunched up, his touch pulling a gasp from you. The kiss is slow, unhurried, every brush of his lips against yours filled with a lingering desire, like he’s savoring every second. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer, and the way your body arches into his, seeking more of him, makes it clear that neither of you wants to let go. The heat between you is palpable, each movement charged with a quiet intensity that speaks of just how much you want each other.

This is not the first time you’ve kissed clearly.

Remus clears his throat, a sound that cuts through the charged silence. You pull away from James, your breath coming in short, startled gasps. Your lips are swollen and pouty, still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. You clutch at James, reluctant to let go, as if the contact alone is grounding you.

James quickly tugs your shirt back into place, his hands lingering for a moment as he smooths out the fabric with a touch that’s both tender and possessive. His gaze flicks over to the boys, a mix of surprise and awkwardness crossing his face as he registers their stunned expressions. The heat in the room seems to intensify, the once-private moment now exposed under their watchful eyes.

“What the hell?” Sirius exclaims, his voice sharp with disbelief. “We’re out here building Legos—” 

“I wasn’t building—” Remus begins to protest, but Sirius cuts him off.

“—as we wait for our tea, and you two are in here snogging?”

“No, we weren’t sno—” You start to protest, but Remus and Sirius cut you off with pointed looks.

“When did this happen?” Sirius demands, clearly miffed. “Because that’s obviously not the first time you’ve kissed her.” His tone reflects his hurt that James, his best friend, hadn’t mentioned anything about this development.

James clears his throat, his face a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness. “About a month ago,” he admits.

“So you two are just messing around?” Remus asks, raising an eyebrow. James’s expression turns from defensive to offended, his brows knitting together.

“No, you prat! She’s my girlfriend.” James snaps, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Bloody hell, it only took you about eight years.” Remus retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. You let out a laugh, unable to help yourself at Remus’s quip.

Sirius, his annoyance settling, lets out an exaggerated sigh, “I expect another niece or nephew as compensation for making us all wait this long for you two to get together.”

please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write! 💌

[yesimwriting]

An Act of Service

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Your father has loyally served the Iron Throne and royal family for many years. No one would ever assume the Grand Maester wanted more for his family's name until he has the opportunity to send his daughter to help treat the pain that's plagued Prince Aemond since the childhood injury that cost him his eye.

Warnings/info: canon deviations (maesters are vowed to celibacy and not allowed to have families bc of the exact political reasons this fic follows, but i really wanted to write this, so we're going to pretend that they can have kids), thinly veiled implications of reader's father wanting to "sell" his daughter out to a prince to aid his family's position

A/n I hate to be the part 2 girl but the ending set up a part 2 so well i may have to

----

It's systemic, the proportioning of herbs so familiar you barely need to glance away from the bronze mortar.

Your arm reaches forward, your eyes briefly darting away from the metal bowl and towards the neatly organized botanicals at your father's work station. You reach for dried petals, the remnants of a rose's remains crumbling slightly beneath your touch.

"Very well," the words are earnest, a rarity when it comes to your father's praise. "But do not get so comfortable you forget your measurements. These remedies may be creations that we feel, but they are also exact."

You nod once, allowing the petals to fall into the mortar before setting your hand against the work table. Your father's unofficial lessons are precarious, often based on his mood and defined by his meticulous nature. He did not achieve his position within the Red Keep through careless work.

Today, he seems content, his peace evident in the lightheartedness of his corrections. Days like this keep your world on its axis, the time with your father making you ever grateful for his position as well as your own. It is rare for a Maester's child to be allowed to stay near their father, let alone work within the same home as him. His place within the Red Keep allowed him the privilege of bringing you and your younger sister to work as royal maids after your mother's passing.

"Of course."

He plucks another petal from the jar, dropping it into the bowl with no sense of malice. You're glad for his patience, but in all honesty, you're grateful for his attention and lessons no matter his disposition.

As a woman, you may never be able to become a Maester or dedicate your life to the work that fascinates you, but his lessons still hold great value. You help your father heal others between your domestic labors within the Red Keep, and at times, you aid sick or injured members of the royal staff.

He nods approvingly, giving you the confidence to reach for the pestle. You begin to grind the combined herbs sitting inside the mortar.

Hurried footsteps echo from somewhere beyond your father's door. You hesitate, eyes darting towards the entrance. You are not barred from assisting your father with his labors, but many frown on the idea of a woman so close to such an important Maester's work.

The door is pushed open with a protesting groan from its tired hinges. The individual turns, revealing a too familiar uniform. A guard.

You blink, immediately turning your attention towards the unfinished herbal remedy in front of you.

"Grand Maester," the man's greeting is curt, uncertain as he glances in your direction. You busy yourself with blending your herbs. "It is the prince, once again pained by his missing eye."

That alone tells you all you need to know about the guard's hesitation to speak in front of you. You've never once spoken to Prince Aemond, but everyone knows of the childhood injury that cost him his eye. Some maids even claim that a great deal of current political turmoil stems from the mistake that occurred during youth driven roughhousing.

The recurring pain that has afflicted the prince since is a lesser known ailment. Over the years, your father has often been called to the prince's apartments at odd hours to clean and treat the prince's permanent injury, late at night or during the early hours of the morning, when the halls of the Red Keep are most empty.

Your father moves away from the work table and towards the shelf of prepared medications. "Did the prince describe the pain? An ache, soreness..."

"It is a burning pain," the guard begins, "The prince did not go into detail, but he did say his skin felt warm."

Your father stills. "That is not his usual ailment." He turns to face the guard. "I will need to cleanse the eye before the pain can be treated."

The guard is silent for such a long moment you find it in you to look away from the safety of the work table. "His highness...The prince has mandated that no Maesters be brought to him. He only wishes for me to bring him the salve you offered him last."

The Grand Maester begins to pace forward. "May I send his highness the girl?"

Your hand stalls too suddenly, the pestle striking the mortar's side. Surely, your father is referencing some--some other girl. A prince's maid that he is familiar with, or--

"My daughter has witnessed and aided me in my practices her entire life. She is well versed in the process of cleaning injuries and applying remedies in a way that avoids contamination." The guard is silent as his attention shifts onto you.

The guard finishes regarding you with no real flourish. He looks over at your father. "The prince's desires were clear, he does not want more people aware of the situation than necessary."

"You would have a prince of the realm apply a salve himself to an already agitated wound without first having it properly cleansed?" He begins to walk forward, approaching the guard with a confidence you've seen him wear before. "I am more than willing to serve him at a later hour, but his ailments do concern me, and time is a significant factor."

The guard says nothing as your father continues to take measured steps towards him. "She offers the prince the discretion of a maid and the skill of a Maester."

Warmth begins to burn its way up your neck. You had never been put into the position to work closely with the royal family, only ever seeing them from a distance. That does not mean you have not heard stories.

You're not a particularly shy or nervous maid, you understand your place and the importance of keeping silent. But the princes...gossip about them often permeates the maids' quarters. Prince Aegon and his entitlement, Prince Aemond and his anger. Why is your father attempting to throw you to the dragon's? Is he--is he that concerned about the prince's current state?

The guard's eyes briefly find yours. "She can't tell anyone."

Your lips part, unsure if the statement is meant for you or your father. Before you can think of anything to say, your father agrees on your behalf, "She is loyal to the crown and instruction. Rumors will not spread from my daughter's lips." There's a beat of silence, and then the guard's careful nod. "Very well. I will gather the necessary materials."

"I must return to my post, a maid will be sent to take her to the prince's apartments." With those final words, the guard begins to approach the door, glad to be done with his involvement on a change that may upset the prince.

Once the door shuts, and you are finally offered the privacy of your father's company alone, the dread you had been warding off burrows itself in your chest. "Father, why--why would you ask to send--"

"I have treated the prince for many years, more than other Maesters within the Red Keep because of his desire for privacy, discretion." Your father's attention returns to the already prepared remedies. He steals a small jar from its place, setting it on the work table. "You are well trained, and no one will assume you are there to treat the prince."

He opens a drawer of bandages. "You also have a kind disposition, and a patience with the injured that even the most experienced Maester would envy. The prince's exterior may be hardened, but I remember him as a sensitive child."

The reminder of his childhood wedges itself into your chest, distracting you from your own fears long enough for you to feel something akin to compassion. Forever suffering due to an injury inflicted by the brashness of childhood anger.

Your father sets the bandages next to the salve. He then reaches for a cleaning ointment you are familiar with, placing it on the work table as well. Now satisfied with his collected materials, his attention finally finds you.

He approaches you slowly, a fondness not often seen pooling in his eyes. If this is a way of bringing your father pride, perhaps this task will not be as dreadful as it seems. "You have matured before my very eyes, growing into your mother's heart and beauty."

Your father extends an arm, his palm coming to brush against your cheek. The gesture is easing, a display of affection he has rarely offered you since your mother's passing. His fingers settle against your hairline, his nails carefully combing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"If you are to walk through the halls of the Red Keep, your hair should not flow as freely as a child's." The comment digs at you in a way you do not comprehend. When no worthy reaction comes to mind, you nod.

He steps back, attention returning to the supplies laid out on the work table. "Be careful, take your time checking the prince for infection and other sources of irritation. See to his needs, you are a good, kind girl. I am sure you will find a way to offer the prince comfort."

You swallow, unease settling in your stomach once again. With that, your father turns away from you.

----

The residential halls of the red keep are vast, with never ending turns and stairwells that come together to form a sort of labyrinth. Despite your lack of familiarity with the prince's maid that came to find you, you are grateful for her guidance.

She eyed you and the laundry basket disguising your medical supplies skeptically, but made no attempts to question you as she led you through the castle. Maids that are tasked with the direct care of the royal family tend to be familiar with the other staff members that work closely with the nobles. This woman has already recognized you as an oddity, a stray in routine.

If she had seemed less hesitant to be around you, you would have liked to ask her for her name, and to perhaps find a sense of normalcy through common ground. Her rejection and pointed distance has forced you to try to find a sense of peace through your surroundings.

You've rarely found reasons to wander through this part of the castle, the beauty of it serving as a way of distracting your racing thoughts.

Your guide stalls in front of a large set of doors. "These are the prince's apartments." She pushes open the doors, allowing you to enter before her. "The prince is resting in the room behind the seating area."

Your eyes land on the wooden door behind the small couch. One misstep in that room and things could very well be over for you and your family.

"Will you be able to find your way back?" The question is small, almost hesitant. You're sure she was tasked with getting you to and from the prince's apartments, but there's something about her stance that feels flighty. She does not want to enter the room the prince is resting in.

You have no way of knowing how Aemond reacts to treatments or his own pain, but if he fears the court gossiping about ailments enough to refuse a visit from a Maester, you doubt he takes well to maids witnessing his vulnerability.

"Yes," an act of mercy for you both, "Thank you for bringing me here, but I am certain I can make it back on my own."

She lets out a breath, nodding once. "Then I will return to my usual duties."

Considering that her usual duties revolve around Aemond, there's a good chance she's simply accepting the opportunity to excuse herself. You don't mind, glad for the excuse to not draw attention to what you're here for. She leaves you without another word.

You approach the door pointed out to you, firmly rapping your knuckles against the wooden surface once. A flat, "enter" provides you the strength to push open the door.

The details of the room are more intriguing than you can afford them to be, the intricate patterns on his walls and the ornate carvings etched into his bed frame so enticing a part of you nearly forgets of the prince.

You blink, forcing yourself to focus in an attempt to project the maturity your father had seen in you when he recommended you for this task.

You step further into the room, your eyes landing on the bed. There he is, head resting against the pillow, majority of his body covered by plush bedding.

Your father has only ever felt honored to care for members of the royal family, no matter Prince Aemond's sentiments, you're sure you'll feel something similar. "My prince?"

His head turns, the movement sluggish. "You...Who are you?" The words are more labored than they are defensive. That is not enough to ease the dread in your chest.

You exhale carefully, "The Maester--the Grand Maester sent me." You remain near the doorway, your hold on the laundry basket tightening. "I have a salve for your ailments."

He lifts his head further, his forearm pressing into the mattress. This new angle allows you to see the entirety of his features, the sharp slope of his jaw, the set of his lips...the jagged scar that cuts across porcelain skin. He regards you with an openness that leaves you without words.

The scar that marks him does not dull the beauty of his well sculpted features. Seeing him like this, studying him and what the loss of his eye has taken from him leaves your face warm, as if you've been caught searching for something not meant for you. You've never heard of a maid that's seen him without his sapphire eye.

"Alright." The response feels significantly less hostile than he was a moment before. "Leave it at my bedside table."

You walk forward carefully, mind begging you to think of a way to bring up why your father sent you here. "My pri--"

"You did not answer my question." The authority in his statement doesn't feel like an accusation. When you remain silent, he continues. "You are not my usual maid, the one who is sent to retrieve items from the Maester."

"No," you agree, "The Maester suggested that I bring you your remedy because he found the description of your pain slightly worrisome. He wanted to abide by your wishes to not be visited by a Maester while also assuring that your injury was properly cleansed before being treated." After a beat of no response, unease burrows itself further into your chest. "I can leave you, if you'd pref--"

He turns his head to better look at you, strands of silver hair falling past his shoulder. "What could possibly qualify you to cleanse a wound?"

The question, though delivered sharply, is a fair one. "The Grand Maester, my father..." If the revelation intrigues him in any way, he gives no indication of it. "Has had me assist him with his duties nearly my entire life. I have been trained in basic care and am confident in my ability to properly cleanse a wound."

Prince Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you with an all consuming focus. You've heard stories of his intensity, of his seriousness. The prince pushes himself to sit up fully. "Very well. The maid before you left clean water and rags at my bedside."

Your attention shifts to his nightstand, a small bucket and wash cloth waiting on the hardwood surface. You nod, digging through the clean sheets of your basket until you find the remedies and bandages your father had picked out for you. You lay out your supplies before looking over at the prince.

He has always seemed tall to you, but with him sitting in his bed, you cannot think of a proper way to lean over him to reach his eye while standing. You turn your head, eyes landing on a small desk and chair tucked into a corner. "My lord, would you mind if I..." You gesture towards the chair.

"Do as you need."

You nod in acknowledgement of his permission before moving the chair to his bedside. You dip the soft rag into the water before sitting. The proximity of your new position is oddly disorientating. Small Folk may not be held to the same pious standards as noble born women, but your father has raised you with certain expectations and regulations. With the exception of family, you doubt you've ever been this close to a man.

You lift the rag, but you cannot bring yourself to press it against his skin. "May I?"

He straightens. "Yes."

Even with that, you cannot will yourself to begin the cleaning process. Your father has always been careful when it comes to treating others, following every rule no matter how minor the injury. "My father has taught me to feel the area bordering the wound before cleaning it to make sure the extent of the injury is understood. However, I know this is an older wound, so if you'd prefer for me to only clea--"

"You may do as your father instructed. I am accustomed to the prodding." Sympathy briefly jabs at you. This is something he's experienced for over half his life.

You nod before lifting your free hand, fingertips gently brushing against his cheek. His skin is warm, perhaps a little warmer than a person should be. Your fingers shift forward gingerly, following the path of his scar. The closer you get to his eye, the warmer his skin feels.

"You don't look like him."

The comment pulls you out of your analysis. "Pardon me?"

"Your father," he tries again, "You don't look like him."

If his tone had been any less soft, you might have interpreted the observation as an accusation. "Oh, no." Your touch continues its path across his features. "Actually, I've often been told I take after my mother."

The skin around his eyebrow feels different than the rest of his injury, puffier, as if beginning to swell. Odd. "Does she work in the Red Keep as well?"

His curiosity is jarring, but not unwelcome. Having an excuse to speak makes focusing on such a personal task seem less invasive. "She did..." You blink in an attempt to reduce the impact of thoughts of what happened to your mother. You're doing well, you cannot allow an old grief to ruin everything. "Before she passed."

Prince Aemond hums once, the sound giving no indication of anything. Pleased with your preliminary analysis, you let your hand fall away from him. You turn to once again dampen the cloth held between your fingers.

"What happened?" The question is void of both empathy and brutal curiosity.

You bring the cloth to the side of the Prince's face. "She died..." Your only defense against his gaze is to focus on the irritated skin near his eyelid. Such swelling on such an old wound cannot be typical. "Bringing my sister into the world."

He falls silent again, allowing you to concentrate on dabbing the washcloth against his cheek. "I'm sorry."

Heat begins to burn its way up your chest, the way it always does when your mind dwells on the loss of your mother for too long. "I appreciate your sympathies, my prince."

Water beads against his skin, a single droplet beginning to drip downwards. Your hand stretches forward on instinct, thumb dragging against the hollow of his cheek to wipe away the water.

You do not realize your error until it is much too late. While wiping away the excess water dripping down the skin of an equal is expected, to do so to a prince without so much as asking first implies a familiarness that you are not entitled to.

"My lord, I apologize--there was water--" You stumble through your explanation while pulling your hand back.

Aemond extends his arm, long fingers latching themselves onto your wrist. His touch, though sudden, is far from harsh. You cannot manage to take in a full breath. "There is no need for apologies." He does not release you until you nod.

You return to cleaning his wound, this time making sure to be aware of your instinctual movements. The flesh above what once was his eyelid is jarringly hot. What would your father do? He'd--he'd examine the irritated area.

You shift towards him, so close you can make out individual strands of his silver hair. Your mind works at keeping your breaths even. There is a small area of his skin that's more swollen than the rest. At the center of the swelling, there's a thin line that seems to extend beneath his brow bone and into the space once occupied by his eye. As gently as you can manage, you lift the cloth to the space above his eyelid. He winces.

"I'm sorry." You're immediately pulling back, your spine pressing against your seat. "Are you hurt?"

Aemond's eye flits away from the wall in front of him and onto you. His lips are pressed together, his expression incredibly stoic. "No." The lie is a fragile thing that cannot matter. You saw him flinch. "If anything, you have been more thoughtful than most."

There's a tentative softness laced through the syllables, a hesitance that does not suit him. His careful assurance feels heavy, the pressure of it grounding you. In certain contexts, you can see how the strength of his personality could be perceived as violence, but there's something else to this quality...an intensity that can also apply to good things.

"I'm glad you feel that way." The nail of your thumb digs into the wash cloth. "I--I think I know why your eye has been troubling you, my prince."

His eyebrows draw together, expression coming dangerously close to displaying curiosity. "Why?"

"The skin just above your eye is slightly swollen and more irritated than the rest of your injury. When I examined the swelling more closely, I noticed a scratch." You pause, thinking through your wording. "It's small, but seems to be irritating the scarring around your original injury. You should have an ointment applied with your usual salve to ward off infection for the next few days."

You can't interpret the silence that follows. His expression morphs into something heavy. "A scratch?"

"It is nothing to be concerned about, my prince." The source of his pain is small, if he is careful, there should be no risk of infection or long term consequence. "Truly, the scrape is no wider than..." You glance around the room, looking for something to estimate the size of his injury. Your eyes fall to the hand on your lap. You lift your arm, holding your palm out between the two of you. "The width of my smallest finger."

Aemond lifts his own hand, his fingers bending around around yours. You let him move your arm forward. He studies your pinky before dragging his thumb against your knuckles. The gesture is so comfortable you have to work at not pulling away. He lets out a quiet breath.

"My prince?"

Aemond's hold on you tightens. "Such a dismissible ailment, and I am left defenseless."

Oh--had he taken your attempts at easing him as an insult? His current wound may be small, but skin so marred is easily agitated, easily made sick. "I did not mean it that way." The earnestness of your own voice should startle you. "Your pain is no dismissible thing, the extent of your original injury is brutal enough, I cannot imagine how it feels for it to be agitated."

The words tumble past your lips so quickly, you are not given a chance to think through them. It is never a good idea to express opinions in front of the nobles. "I apologize for over stepping, my lord."

"I told you," his thumb moves against your knuckles once more, "There is no need to apologize."

You nod, still not feeling completely certain. "You should feel much better after the remedies take. The swelling will likely begin to go down before day's end."

His focus remains on your hand. Aemond releases you slowly, his fingers dragging against your skin as he lets go. A part of you is glad for the excuse to return to the familiarity of your tasks.

You open the ointment, fingers gathering a generous amount before returning to Aemond's wound. "Where do you usually work?"

"Often with my father, preparing remedies and organizing herbs and other supplies." You spread the product onto his skin carefully, your touch as light as you can manage. "When I'm not doing that, I assist the other maids, usually with the laundry and in the kitchen."

He nods absentmindedly. You straighten as you finish applying the salve. You wipe your hands onto the discarded washcloth before unscrewing the jar containing the salve.

Aemond is still as you apply the salve onto irritated skin. This time, as your fingers trail against his skin, you can feel Aemond's gaze focusing on you. You work quickly, focusing your distribution of the product onto the cut beneath his brow bone.

Finishing is more bittersweet than you expected it to be. You're glad to know that you've done what's been asked of you, to know that you've done nothing to offend the prince. However, some small part of you is reluctant to leave.

You reach for the cloth, dampening the fabric before wiping your hands clean once more. "The medications should begin to alleviate your pain soon." You twist the rag between your fingers. "Is there anything else you need, my prince?"

He watches you for a moment. "Only your name."

Unease lunges at your chest, nearly making your heart skin a beat. It is quite rare for a noble to ask for a servant's name, especially if the servant does not regularly see to their needs. When Aemond continues to watch you expectantly, you offer him your name.

He tries your name on his own lips, repeating it slowly. Unsure of what the proper response would be, you briefly dip your chin downwards in a subtle nod.

His lips part. You straighten, preparing for the appropriate dismissal. "Sit with me a little longer." The phrasing is gentle, but it feels far from a question. "Conversation would be a decent distraction."

You wring the washcloth further. Cautionary tales of low borns who found themselves overly comfortable spending time with the royal family have been recited to you as often as traditional bedtime stories. However, there is nothing inherently wrong with making polite conversation if it is asked of you. Either way, the dangers do not matter. It'd be a fool's error to directly deny the prince.

"Of course, my prince."

The immediate silence that follows tangles your stomach. Aemond has asked you for conversation as a way to distract himself from his pain and you have nothing worth saying to a prince. You lift your head, glancing around the room. Your observations are in vain, what common ground could you both possibly have?

Your eyes land on his desk. There are a few books stacked neatly on the wooden surface, one with a familiar title written on its spine. "Are you reading The History of the Conquerors?" The question feels too abrupt without a clarification, "I finished the final volume less than a fortnight ago, my lord."

Aemond studies you so openly you almost convince yourself you've misspoken. "You read?"

Despite the politeness of his tone, his true question is easy to assume. A majority of maids and other royal attendants can only read certain words, being taught just enough to get through their day to day lives. Your father had gone out of his way to teach you to read fully. He originally taught you to read to make it easier for you to understand texts detailing remedies and health conditions, but you quickly developed a passion for any text he could bring you.

"Yes, my father taught me." You smooth the washcloth over your lap. "Originally, he wanted me to be able to read about treatments and diseases, and now he is forever cursed to find me new reading material." As soon as the words are out, you're immediately mentally cursing yourself for your casualness. "I apologize, my prince, that was a...joke."

He shifts, his hands coming to rest on his lap. "I told you not to apologize." The correction leaves an uncomfortable heat clawing its way up your chest. Your nails dig into the rag. Aemond lets out a breath. "And you do not have to trouble yourself with proper addresses."

That's--You know for a fact that no maids in the Red Keep have ever spoken of a noble dismissing the need for formal addresses. If it happens, it's something kept secret. Not even your father, who has known and treated the prince since he was child, addresses him casually.

You squeeze the wash cloth, the fabric dampening your palm. "Alright." The word sits there, floating aimlessly without his title to guide it.

Aemond nods before allowing his attention to shift towards the books on his desk. "Did you enjoy the book?"

"Yes." At least this is a topic you feel capable of speaking on. "The descriptions of the seven kingdoms before they were united together were interesting, I haven't found many historical accounts that go that far back."

He takes a moment to digest your response. "It is a detailed account, but at times the writing seems to overly rely on the author's perspective."

"To me, that felt intentional." The excuse to debate narration is more welcomed than it should be. "The author is only taking the time to recount these events because of his personal investments in the conflict. The constant references to his own position felt like an attempt to get ahead of any accusations of bias."

Aemond sits up a little straighter, one of his hands coming to rest on the side of his bed. "That's a fair interpretation, though if that's the assumption we're reading under, it is a poor attempt at denoting political bias when compared to The Recounting of the Dornish Wars."

The Recounting of the Dornish Wars is a relatively popular account, your father had no trouble finding you the first and third volume. The second volume seems to be more of a rarity, something no one in your world has been able to track down yet.

"That's a good point, but the author of that account was in a completely different situation." You fold the towel in half. "It's one of my favorite accounts, even without the context of the second volume, the depiction of the conflict is so thorough one can still understand all the dynamics that came into play."

Aemond taps his fingers against the comforter, the rhythm slow but steady. "Without the second volume?"

"I've yet to track it down, but I've read the first and final installments." The admission feels small, almost uncertain. You move past it quickly, hands fidgeting with the wash cloth on your lap as you continue, "What did you think of the final act? I liked the sharpness of the ending, but I can also see how the suddenness could come off as inconclusive."

His hands move back to his lap. "I enjoyed it. I found the ending's sharpness an accurate depiction of a dragon's strength."

Right. To him, the historical accounts and enthralling tales are more than just stories. They're a part of him, familial legacies he is expected to continue.

A part of working within the Red Keep is dismissing any curiosities you may have regarding what is left of Old Valyria. The Small Folk may think of the dragons, may even discuss them in private, but they do not ask their riders about them.

This is the danger of losing certain formalities, lines begin to blur. You squeeze your hands together before asking, "Really?"

The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards. Aemond presses the heel of his palm into the mattress as he shifts. "Even the smallest dragons are more fearsome than you can imagine." He angles himself towards you, morphing the remaining distance between the two of you into something inconsequential. "Each of them capable of a destruction that could devastate entire armies."

You're more drawn in than you should be. There's very little you can offer in return. To the Small Folk, the dragons are closer to an ideology than something to be known. Your curiosity combines uneasily with the acute awareness of his proximity. You rest your chin against your elbow. "Your dragon is...Vhagar? The same one from the History of the Conquerors?"

His chin dips forward, making the gentle curve of his mouth impossible to ignore. The prince's sole eye remains on you as it is dragged downwards, the pace of his analysis so unhurried you can feel each moment of it. Bearing the weight of Aemond's full focus is no small feat.

"Vhagar was once ridden by Queen Visenya, who used her size and strength to help unite Westeros." His voice is low, giving the reminder of what is connected to him through blood the reverence it deserves. He shifts even closer, the warmth of his breath now a tangible force against your skin. "And now she is mine."

Heat claws at your skin. You feel your lips part, but there is no waiting response. Before you can string together a coherent set of words, the familiar echoing of footsteps brings you back to the world outside of Prince Aemond.

Your spine straightens on its own accord, the entirety of your back pressing against the seat. Your fingers find the wash cloth again, nails digging into the fabric as if attempting to make up for the time the fabric spent abandoned on your lap.

There's a soft knock agaisnt his door, one Aemond only halfheartedly acknowledges with a blank "enter". He does not move until the door begins to creak open, and even then his new positioning is subtle, more of a turn of his head than an actual attempt to create distance between the two of you.

A maid, the same woman who first led you through the twisting halls of the Red Keep, is standing in the doorway. Her gaze briefly finds you before settling onto the prince. "My Prince, the Queen wishes to meet with you in the great hall before supper."

Aemond is quiet for a moment. You cannot will yourself to look away from the doorway to read his expression in an attempt to understand the silence. "Alright, tell my mother I will be there in a moment."

The maid nods. "Of course, my prince." Her eyes fall to you once more, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards before she shuts the door.

You maintain your posture as silence falls over the two of you. He studies you with the same openness that's characterized most of this interaction. An odd pang of some somber feeling you can't quite place strikes at somewhere deep inside your bones. "Do you need anything else before you meet with the queen?"

He presses his lips together before responding, "There is a book at the end of my desk that I've been meaning to return to the library."

You nod, a part of you relieved to be given such an understandable task. You stand, arms reaching for the abandoned laundry basket before you've fully straightened. "Of course." You adjust the basket onto your hip before letting your attention fall to the supplies still on his nightstand. "I'll leave the supplies here so that you can reapply the ointment and salve before bed."

You step back, eyes falling to the desk chair. One arm falls away from the basket, fingers coming to grasp the seat's wooden spine. "You may leave it."

The instruction is strange, but you don't think much about releasing the chair. "Of course." You move a few paces back before looking over at him again. Much to your dismay, the newfound distance does not rid your mind of the warmth of his breath against your skin. "If you'd like, I can tell my father that you'd like him to visit you tonight to check on your eye."

"No," his tone is decisive, "I trust your work." An unexpected pride swells in your chest at his certainty. Aemond sits fully, his legs moving out from under his bedding and onto the floor. "In fact, I'd like you to return tonight to check on my recovery."

Tonight. Your mind leaves you with no response. It is one thing to be sent to treat the prince when you are the only option for him to maintain the privacy he desires, but to come to his apartments at the hours you've heard of your father being called during, when the world is quiet and all the well behaved are already in bed.

You force those thoughts to stall. Aemond is a prince, and this is only an act of service. This is not a source of impropriety. "Of course, I'll be here when you call."

His acceptance of your compliance serves as a dismissal. You turn towards his desk, your eyes scanning the neatly organized items before finding the sole book waiting at the surface's edge. A copy of the second volume of The Recounting of the Dornish Wars.

This cannot be more than mere coincidence. You blink, throat a little drier than it was a moment ago. You're careful as you pick the novel, your hand supporting the book's spine. "This--"

"The library is not expecting it back for some time, but I believe it is best to keep things orderly." His voice remains neutral, but the set of his mouth, the upturn of his lips is much too knowing to not imply more.

He has directed you to a copy of the book you've been searching for that no one will think to look for for some time. The gesture settles against you, squeezing your chest in a way that makes it difficult to keep breathing. You allow yourself to grin openly as your gaze shifts between the prince and the book in your hand. "I agree, my prince."

The title falls from your lips before you can prevent it. You had been doing so well at disregarding titles...Perhaps it had been an act of fate, or some desperate attempt of your subconscious to remind you that any imaginary kinship your mind has created while treating him needs to be forever abandoned at his apartment's threshold.

His expression morphs into something unreadable. Instead of reminding you of what he had told you about titles, he says, "Aemond." The suddenness of his name throws you. "When we are alone, I'd prefer it if you called me Aemond."

Warmth burrows itself in your chest. If you thought any of the casualness the prince had shown you throughout your time here was dismissible, this is the opposite of that. A nail in a coffin you do not understand.

Still, you nod, fingers tightening around the book as you respond, "Then...I agree, Aemond."

A sharp nervousness digs into your chest, taking control of your limbs as you turn away. You leave his room without another word, a maid's basket on your hip and the prince's book in your hand.

----

a/n if you want to see the reader come back to aemond's room later pls lmk bc i think a part 2 would be fun :)

[luveline]

hi, i have a request for hotch if that's okay with you :)

when they're on the jet, yn is smiling a lot at her phone so the team starts to tease her because the think that she has a mysterious boyfriend. and she does, but he's sitting right next to her and he's also wondering who's making her smile like that since it's clearly not him

tysm!

Hotch is trying hard to award you your privacy, but your smile makes it difficult. You're actually squared away from him despite sitting in the seat beside him of your own free will, your phone to your chest, a huge smile curved across your cute mouth. 'Cute mouth', Hotch thinks to himself with derision. He's thoroughly whipped for you. It might not work out. 

You've been secretive and strange on your phone for an hour now. With nothing left to do but wait for the jet to touch down, you can watch whatever or text whenever you want. Hotch just wishes it wasn't so distracting. Who are you texting? He feels ill. 

"Who's that?" 

The dam finally breaks. As soon as Morgan asks, Emily pipes up, "Yeah, who is it?" as Rossi laughs and declares, "I know that look. Young Y/N's in love." 

You side eye Hotch. "Workplace harassment," you say. 

"Who is it?" Hotch asks. 

You gawp but laugh at his unprofessional questioning, pressing your phone screen tight to your chest. "Hotch, it's–" 

"Your not-so-secret boyfriend? Come on, we all know you have one," Morgan says. 

"I know you know, you're like sharks," you say, giving them all a great long look. 

For weeks now, you've glowed. This overzealous smiling and laughing is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Your nosy coworkers can't hold back their curiosity any longer. Hotch was stupid enough to think that your secretive dates and nights spent curled in on one another might be the reason behind your new hopped up sprightliness, but apparently not. 

"So you admit it!" Emily cheers. 

"Maybe. But it's not what's happening on my phone." 

"Well, what is it?" Spencer asks. 

They've leaned in on you, a circle of eager faces. Your sudden decision to admit you —maybe— have a boyfriend is as much as anyone's gotten out of you in weeks. If anyone could tease the truth from you, of course it's Hotch, and so the team looks to their leader pleadingly. 

He's not sure he wants to know. "They won't leave you alone otherwise," he says, hoping that his expression shows his leniency. Your secrets are your own if you want to keep them. 

You smile at him. Again, he thinks you have a cute mouth, and that he's biassed but you definitely smile sweeter at him than anyone else. You and Hotch know something the others don't, amusement like light behind your irises. "I'll show you," you say smugly, "and only you, Hotch." 

"Typical," Morgan murmurs, sitting back on the couch. 

Hotch clenches his sweaty palms beneath the table. "Alright." 

You lean in against his shoulder. Your phone turns on, and he's taking deep breaths as you click to your photo app, and then an album labelled with a simple, '<3'. 

It's photos of him. Most he knows you took, sitting across from you in dark restaurants or kneeling in your apartment putting together a new set of drawers. Your giggles begin in earnest as you swipe through them to a more recent photograph. You couldn't have taken it more than a week ago, when he'd stayed the night with you by accident, too tired to leave. His face is slack in sleep. He realises it's a video when you click a button and the sound of crinkling fabric plays from your speaker. In the video, you unbutton the tight collar of his shirt, stroking his neck briefly with a loving knuckle. The video moves down to frame his arm, his hand clinging to your other one like a sucker. 

Hotch looks up from the video and blinks at you. Your hand on his sleeping neck, the sound of your tired laughter —he can't not smile. "Oh. That's…"

"What did you show him?" Morgan asks, his voice coloured with both amusement and frustration. The team echo his question.

"I can't kiss and tell," you say, still tucked up by his side. 

"I think it's best if you don't, L/N," Hotch agrees. 

He'd lose all credibility. 

[xomakara]

Reconnecting Hearts

SUMMARY |  You meet this cute guy, Jeno, while you were studying overseas and start a fling with him during the year you were there. Months after returning home to Korea, your brother introduces you to his friend, not knowing that you already know him. And intimately at that.

PAIRINGS | Jeno x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  non-idol!Jeno, overseas fling, friends with benefits, smut

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, protected and unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, vaginal penetration

LENGTH | 8,844 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Jeno. Oh, Jeno. How in the world did you slip into the bias lane? No idea but I hope everyone likes this! 💚

"Jeno," you let out a breathy moan as he begins kissing the back of your neck. "Jaemin will be back soon. We shouldn't be doing this."

"But you don't want me to stop," he says, trailing kisses to your jaw. "Do you?"

He stops and places both hands on either side of the counter you are leaning against. He buries his face into the back of your neck, waiting for your response.

You both stop in the middle of the kitchen and suddenly feel chills shoot through your body. A few months ago when you went to America for your studies, Jeno was just some cute guy from one of your classes you'd fallen into bed with. It had all just happened so fast. One second you were studying in the school's library, the next you both were kissing in some storage closet and a few days later he was in your bed, inside you. For a full year that's how things were. 

Life returned back to normal once you came back to Korea, becoming an adult, partying with your friends, dating around. Hooking up with other guys from time to time, but it never felt right. Because he wasn't with you. In reality, you only thought of him, wished he was the one touching you, that he was the one laying with you at night. You missed the feeling of his body above yours as he railed you, and most of all, his sweet yet strong arms surrounding you and making you feel safe. He was what you thought about before closing your eyes, and all you dreamed about. 

So, imagine how surprised you were when one day your brother came home from work with his fellow coworker and friend in tow. The moment you made eye contact with him, time froze. A smile formed on his lips as he looked you over. Your breathing hitched and you fidgeted nervously.

And when Jeno introduced himself to you as if it was the first time, you played along because lord knows what Jaemin would do if he found out the kind of history you two shared.

"I..." you trail, lost in words as Jeno slides the sleeve of your blouse to the side so his lips could kiss your shoulder. Your brain is becoming fuzzy, not thinking properly. Your eyes close briefly, focusing on the feeling of his fingers and lips touching your skin. 

"Jeno..." you say softly.

It takes everything in him to not take you right then and there in the kitchen. The way his name leaves your lips almost does him in. But the fear of your brother's reaction keeps him from touching you any further than he's already been doing.

"Hmm," he hums into your skin, kissing you softly. "I really missed you." 

He backs away from you and you turn around to face him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he grips your hips with a smirk. You bite your lip softly.

"I really missed you too," you sigh. 

And just like that, everything returns to normal for a bit and you are back at square one with him. It's true. You really did miss him, more than words could even possibly begin to describe. It wasn't just sex, like it was in the beginning, no. Over time things progressed and developed, deep feelings stirring the closer you two became. At least, from your side they did.

The butterflies constantly filled your stomach whenever you two met or saw each other. And, when you did hookup, he was sweet and gentle, which made you fall a little harder every time. After every sexual act you exchanged, he always stayed a little bit longer and held you, so warm and comfortable in his arms that it was hard to breathe. His soothing fingers ran across your scalp and shoulders and your fingers touched and caressed every part of him, something you had become addicted to. It was something you couldn't get used to, not that you wanted to. No, instead you longed for it. Craved him, longed for his warmth, and yearned for him.

What you wouldn't give for him to say 'I love you' to you in that deep smooth voice of his, running those smooth lips all over your bare skin and whispering that you are beautiful and good to him. All of those feelings intensified exponentially and more each passing day. All you wanted, no need, was his love and touch.

A loud buzz sounds off, scaring you and causing you to jump out of Jeno's grasp. Both of you are breathing heavily.

You scramble around the kitchen, attempting to make your presence seem casual. After taking a deep breath, you press the speaker button, asking who's there.

"It's us, dummy," you hear Jaemin say over the speaker. "Now open the door, our hands are full."

After the doors unlock with a click, you release the breath you didn't know you were holding in.

"We'll be fine," Jeno mutters before Jaemin walks through the front door. "He doesn't know about us."

You take a second to fix yourself, your hair and blouse, before running back to the living room just in time to see Jaemin enter, the rest of your friends hot on his heels.

"Sorry we're late. We got held up at the register because someone–" your brother sends a playful glare over at Haechan, "was flirting with the cashier and held up the entire line. You should have come with us, Jeno. Then maybe the transaction would have been smoother."

The whole gang plops down in the living room after dropping the multiple bags of takeout on the coffee table. Everyone gets situated in their regular spots, opening the boxes and containers that fill the space on the table.

Jeno has seated himself across from you on the couch, leaning forward to grab a can of soda. It takes everything in you not to stare at the outline of his arm, but you manage to pry your eyes away just in time, trying hard to concentrate on the conversations around you.

For the most part, you succeed. However, that all goes away the moment you look up and make brief eye contact with Jeno, his tongue dragging across his bottom lip quickly before a smile appears on his face. You swear you catch a devilish smirk on his face before he faces away and turns to ask Jaemin a question.

Damn, that man will be the death of you.

In your peripheral view you see a hand wave in front of your face, causing you to gasp and jump slightly in your seat. Everyone sitting close laughs, except Jaemin, who's frowning from your reaction.

"Hey! What was that for?" you shout playfully, hitting his shoulder.

“You were spacing out,” Jaemin said. “We were calling you and everything.”

"Sorry," you chuckle awkwardly, glancing at Jeno for half a second. "Just thinking about what movie we should watch next. Do you guys have any suggestions?"

Jisung jumps from the floor, looking at everyone with a pout. "Please, nothing scary this time. I had nightmares for weeks after watching that last one."

"Let's watch a romantic drama!" Haechan adds with a squeal before shoving food in his mouth.

"Ew, pass," Chenle shouts from beside him.

"Yo, what about an action film?" Mark suggested.

The four of them bicker for a moment over what genre of film to watch until Renjun speaks up, settling the argument.

"Why not have a mix of genres? Like one scary, one comedy, and so on." He suggests.

Everyone nods in agreement, the bickering now gone. It is then settled.

One movie goes by before Haechan turns off the light, enveloping everyone in the dark, save for the TV. You watch the film until something else catches your attention. You're sitting next to Jeno, knees pressed against his, a throw blanket tossed over your laps, his hand squeezing your naked thigh, hidden under the soft material.

The sound from the television becomes distant as your senses focus on only him, his warm hand caressing your exposed skin. You turn to him, locking eyes as a shiver runs through you when his hand begins wandering further, dangerously close to where you want him the most. You slipped a hand under the blanket, sneaking to where Jeno's fingers are barely touching your pussy, letting him know silently you approve of his advances.

No one has seemed to notice what's happening beneath the blanket, and that's for the best. Jeno's eyes widen before a smirk forms on his face, the thumb of his hand circling your inner thigh, sending another shockwave through you, causing you to whimper ever so quietly. You thank the universe that no one is paying attention to you right now.

Your core is beginning to clench, craving the familiar feeling of Jeno's fingers touching you, filling you. It's been far too long since you've had him, but god do you miss him, need him.

Another quiet whimper slips from your lips when you see him bite his lip. This guy is fucking torturing you right now. How does he have the self control to be doing this right now with the others so close and him being right next to your brother? Your face is a deep red and is very thankful that the lights have been shut off to mask it.

“Hey, Jeno,” Jaemin said.

You snap out of it as Jaemin begins speaking. Jeno stops his hand from going any further, much to your dismay, and hums in acknowledgment.

“You’re back for good right? Like, living in Korea permanently?” Jaemin asked.

Jeno sits up straight, stretching his arms over his head before glancing down at you, then answering your brother. "Yeah. I've got all my stuff in order and moved back here for good a few days ago."

Your eyes scan Jeno's body for the hundredth time. Even now in the dim lighting, you can't help but drink him in.

God, his hands. The hands that had just been gripping you firmly are now running themselves through his thick hair. It's grown longer since the last time you saw him.

Stop. You mentally scold yourself before you let yourself drown any further into thoughts of him touching you and marking you as his, his moans filling your ear, his deep voice groaning as he–

"For real? Need a girlfriend? I have a cousin that might work out," Mark's voice drags you out of your little fantasy. "She's your type, or what I'm told is."

Jeno shakes his head. "I'm not exactly looking. You know? After just getting settled and all, I need time to figure things out. Work is becoming increasingly busy with a new branch of the company being established. It's really taking its toll. Not to mention having to move back, pack and unpack... Yeah, dating is far from the back of mind. Right now I'm just worried about-"

"Work," the rest of the group finishes his sentence for him and erupt into fits of laughter. You feel yourself laughing along with everyone, even though all you want right now is his hand to slide up under the shorts and rub circles onto your clit like the good boy you know he is. You know damn well he'd do it without a second thought. But the other six men being so near have you biting the bullet and refraining yourself from jumping on him, hoping the movies end soon. You'll just have to wait.

"It's already past one, guys. Do you all plan on sleeping here tonight?" you ask.

Renjun stretches out onto the floor, and you hear a loud popping sound emit from his bones. "I don't feel like moving. Let me crash here tonight. Pretty please?"

"Same. I don't have the energy to walk back," Haechan groans loudly.

Jaemin huffs and shoves both of the sleepy men off of him. "Alright alright. Stay, the more the merrier. It'll be like a giant sleepover."

"The moment you all get loud, I'm kicking you all out." you stand, stretching and yawning loudly, the volume from the tv now muted. "See ya tomorrow. I'm gonna go to bed."

As soon as the words leave your lips, the seven guys all begin pleading with you to watch another movie, which only prompts you to yawn again. You shake your head as you walk down the hall, ignoring them.

Their voices become background noise as you step into your room and shut the door behind you. Flopping onto your bed, the silence gives you a second to breathe, relax your mind after what had happened mere moments ago.

Your hand subconsciously trails to the spot that Jeno had his hand on before being rudely interrupted. You moan softly at the feeling of your fingertips on your throbbing clit. The hunger inside you is screaming to be satiated, but you decide you can hold out, at least for a couple more hours.

Instead of dwelling on the fact that your fling is in the other room, you flip to your side and start playing music on your phone, hoping the lyrics can put you into a deep sleep until morning. You cuddle under the covers and close your eyes, feeling the tiredness overcome your senses. The moment your eyes fall shut, your phone begins buzzing from somewhere above you.

You feel around under the blankets, nearly losing your hearing when a screech leaves the speakers. Tilting your screen towards you, a message from none other than the one guy you've been trying so desperately to forget appears before your eyes. Your heart flutters once you begin reading.

Jeno: In the living room, trying my best not to pop a boner thinking about what we started earlier. And about what you tasted like months ago when I shoved my cock down your throat, and what your face looks like when you cum.

You: Bold of you to assume I don't have a vibrator nestled between my legs right now, wishing it was you fucking me instead.

Without hesitation, you hit send, biting your bottom lip, hoping your tease will get some sort of response out of the other. The three little bubbles appear almost instantly, giving you a moment of anticipation.

Jeno: Keep your bedroom door unlocked and don't touch yourself until I'm touching you.

Oh boy. You toss your phone aside after reading and lay still in your bed, attempting to follow Jeno's wishes. A few minutes have passed by the time a quiet knock reaches your ears. You hop off the mattress, hurrying to the door. Slowly, you crack the door, peering out to see Jeno standing in the hallway, and all the guys' snores reaching your ears. Without hesitating, you pull him in, shutting the door softly and locking it.

His arms snake their way around your waist, pulling you into his chest and his lips press onto yours. Immediately, you lean into him, your tongue flicking across his, causing him to let out a slight grunt. You knew he missed this, and you had been too.

But at this moment, it's him and it's you.

The moonlight and the blue light from the LED strips adorning the top edge of the walls allows you to make out his facial features and movements as the two of you separate for a quick moment of air.

The hunger in Jeno's gaze makes you melt on the spot.

"Fuck," Jeno trails a finger down the curve of your cheek and across your lips. "I missed you so bad."

A warmth spreads throughout your body. It's been awhile, but nothing has really changed between the two of you. Despite the multiple guys you hooked up with while you were back in Seoul, they didn't do it for you the way Jeno did. They may have taken care of you physically, but none of them have made you feel the way he has. None of them can be a tender fuck buddy, switching roles and putting their needs aside just for you. The thought brings back old memories of the year abroad and the numerous times the both of you have met, making your core pulse with need.

With a finger under your chin, he lifts your head and the two of you lock eyes. With every word you speak, a puff of warm air leaves your lips and hits the skin of his face. 

"Then show me how bad," you say, biting your bottom lip.

An animalistic look forms on his face when the words reach his ears. A second passes and then his lips are crashing onto yours, his tongue fighting yours for dominance and your teeth scraping at one another, breathing hard and desperate for more. You tug at the fabric of his shirt, hands sliding up his abdomen to remove the piece of cloth from his body and allow your nails to trail their way back down and stop right at the edge of his pants. You pull away with a mischievous smile on your face.

"Someone's needy," Jeno taunts, leaning into you to nip your earlobe.

You allow him to guide you over to your bed and push you down. He takes a moment to just soak you in, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body, and when his gaze lands on the small sliver of your panties poking out from beneath your large shirt, he swallows hard.

"Please, Jeno," your soft, hushed voice pierces the heavy tension in the air. "I need you so bad."

Your lustful whine combined with the sight of you laying before him has his hard member pulsing and aching to be touched.

"Shit," he curses, slowly unzipping his jeans and letting them pool at his ankles. A low groan leaves him at the sight of his growing bulge. "Look what you've done to me, princess."

You lick your lips and slide your hips closer to the edge of the bed and sit up, face to face with his clothed cock. "May I?"

"You know you don't have to ask, right?" His thumb swipes a piece of hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear. "Go on, baby. I want that pretty mouth around me."

You shoot him a shy grin and waste no time removing his briefs. His erection pops out, and a shuddering gasp falls from your lips. God, this man is the walking embodiment of a god. You immediately take him in your hand, earning a low moan from Jeno. A hand is placed onto the top of your head, guiding your lips toward the tip of his cock.

"C'mon, princess," his voice is rough and urgent with need as he taps the tip against your bottom lip. "Open up for me."

Without protest, you obey and part your lips, letting him push himself deeper, sheathing his length in your warm, wet mouth. Your eyes flicker upwards, and you are met with a look of lust in his eyes. He gives you a nod and you let out a groan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the taste of his length against your tongue. His scent fills you with a longing desire that aches at the bottom of your gut.

You slowly wrap your hand around him, squeezing slightly and starting a steady rhythm, drawing soft moans of approval from him as you do so. With each stroke, you run your thumb in little circles around the tip, gathering precum on your finger.

The sound of him becoming undone under your ministrations fills the room.

"F-f-uck," he lets out an audible groan, tangling his fingers in your hair. "Look at you, so eager to swallow all of my cum." His grip on your hair tightens, pulling harshly, earning him a yelp, which travels through his cock and gives him goosebumps.

He has always loved being inside your mouth, watching you take him all the way down your throat, feeling the hot, wet warmth envelope him entirely. The sight of his length disappearing between your perfect lips sends him over the edge. Jeno pulls at the roots of your hair again, his hips slamming forward as his climax comes undone and spilling out into your eager throat.

"Do you want me to return the favor?" He offers sweetly after his orgasm subsides and his length pulls out of your mouth with a pop. You can only answer him with a lazy smile.

After adjusting back onto the bed, you lie there, still, barely having recovered from the intense orgasm that had washed over your body.

"C'mon baby," a chuckle escaped his lips when he heard the sluggish moan you give him when he tugs at your underwear, "these gotta go."

He doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly lift your lower body up for him, the wet spot on the article of clothing clearly visible, and he laughs at the sight of the stained garment.

“If that’s any sign of how bad you want me, then I have to give you what you desire,” Jeno said.

"Fuck, I hate you," you scoff as Jeno removes them at an antagonizing slow pace, slowly driving you mad with lust and longing.

"No you don't," he presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your inner thigh, teasing you. A finger lightly traces the wet mess, which you've made due to the lack of attention down there.

You buck your hips when his lips move further down.

"Be good," Jeno says between kisses. "Don't want the others to wake up now, do you?"

Before you have a chance to answer, his tongue flicks at your entrance, and a loud moan reverberates through the room. You clasp your hand over your mouth, muffling your screams of pleasure. His tongue keeps up a delicious pace, hitting just the right places as his mouth works magic. His name slips off the tip of your tongue, breathless and strangled, as if his mouth was stealing your breath. The flat side of his tongue slowly teases you as he applies light pressure on your clit. The pressure builds inside you, causing your core to pulse. Your free hand threads itself into his hair, tangling it into knots as you grip it.

"Jeno," your voice is uneven as you moan his name over and over again, "I'm almost there."

"Good," is all you hear before he starts fucking you with his tongue, harder than ever.

"I want you inside me, please," you cry, panting for dear life as your climax approaches faster than ever, "I want you so bad. I've missed you so fucking much-"

Before you finish your sentence, he's flipping your body over so that your ass is in the air, your face buried into the pillow, trying your damned hardest not to make a sound. After finding the condoms that you know are buried inside the third drawer in your dresser, he discards his remaining clothes, swiftly rolls it on, and shoves into you in one thrust, making your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

"Fuck," Jeno growls, pausing when you clench your walls around his cock. "So tight."

You shudder violently, and you have a hard time thinking clearly because he's still pressing his tip right up against that special spot that has you seeing stars. The thrusts of his hips start out slow, deep, and have your body craving for more. He snaps his hips, and your eyes widen.

"Oh, Jeno, there," you cry, "there. Oh, fuck.."

Jeno continues to slide his girthy cock in and out, continuously hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over again. Each of his strokes is perfectly timed with the grinding of your hips. All your feelings are completely amplified, sending shocks throughout your entire body with each pump of his hips. It isn't long before Jeno feels the familiar tension building, and you feel your walls closing around him once again. The thrusting of his hips grow faster, deeper, and sloppier until you and him reach the precipice at the same time.

He keeps going for a few more thrusts before he eventually comes to a halt. Jeno presses his forehead into your back, his breath labored and his voice groggy and thick with satisfaction and pleasure. "Fuck, sweetheart." His body presses fully into yours before you feel a warm liquid spurt inside the latex around his dick, a wetness between your thighs that was there beforehand.

Once the two of you have managed to catch your breath, Jeno slides himself out of you, quickly disposing of the rubber. Jeno moves to your side, looking you over, his eyes lidded and satisfied, your hair tousled and sticking out everywhere, your face flushed.

He slides the sheets over both of you and settles himself, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and wrapping an arm around your bare torso. You rest your chin onto his messy black locks, the faint scent of the conditioner from his previous shower lingering around him.

You feel the sleepiness hit your body, as does it in Jeno's.

"Hey," you whisper, and he grunts in acknowledgement, eyes still shut as his breathing calms and his expression relaxes. "Jeno?"

"Hm? Yeah? What is it?" His eyes open just a bit, peering at you.

"I was wondering," you trail off, eyes staring up at the ceiling, "since you're staying in Seoul for good...can we continue, well, whatever the fuck it is we're doing?"

It takes him a minute, but he turns himself onto his back and cracks an eye open, looking up at the ceiling the same way you were seconds ago.

A loud yawn interrupts him and you bite the inside of your cheek, a nervousness creeping in.

"Yes, for sure. I'm down if you are," the tone of his voice makes a warm and fuzzy feeling burst in your stomach. "It's been over a year and we haven't stopped. No reason why it should." 

He trails off and tilts his head to look at your face and meets your eyes. "What about your brother? Won't he notice? Be suspicious?"

You sigh and run a finger across his chest. "I'm not ready to tell Jaemin. Don't know when I'm ever gonna be."

You hadn't told him or anyone about the fling and had no plans on it for a while.

Jeno shifts his body weight, the other side of him settling against your chest. He wraps his arms around your body and hums slowly. "When it happens, it happens. We can deal with it then."

And with that, you lean into him and finally succumb to a deep slumber.

“When it happens, we’ll talk to him,” Jeno said.

"You're spending a lot of time with Jeno, lately," Haechan leans his hip onto your bedroom doorway, a playful smirk forming.

It's been several weeks since Jeno's first night here in your house, and not a single moment has gone by that you haven't both had your hands all over each other.

For some odd reason, despite the obvious suspicion and careful remarks from the others, the two of you haven't been busted for what you're doing.

It's a Saturday evening, and you and the guys are getting ready to head out for drinks together. The last to finish getting ready, you were finishing up the last touches of your makeup before turning around.

“Huh?” you asked.

He flashes a suspicious smile at you. "You. Jeno."

"What about us?" Your tone is full of caution and defense. "Are we not allowed to? Lastly, I remember you guys are his friends too."

"Ya'll fucking, aren't you?" Haechan raises an eyebrow at you.

"Please don't tell Jaemin," it takes you a few moments of gathering the words to respond to him and when you do, the plea is pathetic and desperate.

"For real? I was just joking, not actually asking if it was true–" Haechan blinks. "Damn, Y/N. Never took you to be this kinda woman."

"I have a history with him, you know," you slap Haechan's arm with the back of your hand. "A very, very dirty history. Not a lot of people are privy to it."

Haechan feigns a shocked gasp. "Do tell."

Your gaze becomes downcast, almost as though you are trying to hide from him, but he already knows too much.

"Seriously. Don't tell the others," the last thing you need is another set of idiots hounding you about it.

Haechan moves closer, keeping his eyes on you.

"If they find out, you're fucking screwed. Especially your brother," he shakes his head, a frown visible on his lips. "Are you two at least being safe?"

“We’ve always kept it safe. Haven’t slipped up in that department and I intend for it not to happen,” you reassured him.

Haechan releases the breath he didn't know he was holding and sighs deeply. He wasn't planning on pressuring you into spilling your heart out, nor did he want you to feel uncomfortable or obliged to give him a full play by play. You are a grown woman, able to take care of yourself and make the decisions you want. So why should he try to dictate or change your mind, or worse, your lifestyle?

"Look. As long as he makes you happy and isn't hurting you, I support you," he places a soft hand on top of your head and smiles widely.

That alone warms your heart. Haechan was never one to pry or gossip. This side of him never ceased to amaze you.

"Thank you," you breathe and return his smile, feeling your mood perk up again.

"Sure. But!" He snaps his fingers. Your smile turns into a playful pout. "You guys have to be more careful and figure your shit out. I can't promise you my silence when things go sideways, alright?"

"Right," you said and playfully smacked Haechan's shoulder with a laugh. "Now can we head to the damn bar?"

After pulling on an oversized jacket, the two of you walk out into the hallway where the rest of the gang has been waiting for the longest five minutes of their life.

"Fucking finally," Renjun stretches his legs. "Can we go now?"

You quickly duck down and slip your shoes on, smoothing out any wrinkles in your outfit. You try not to pay attention to Jeno, who watched you closely, especially how your jeans cling perfectly to the outline of your body.

The drive is longer than anticipated, leaving plenty of time to chat with your companions, and after nearly a half hour, you finally arrive and everyone hurries to exit the van, running up to the entrance. The bouncer flashes a warm smile upon recognizing you and the others, allowing them to walk in without much hassle.

Renjun quickly finds an empty booth for all of you to occupy, and the others quickly follow suit, plopping down and shoving each other over and over until there is room for everyone. Jeno finds his seat right next to you, leaning back against his seat, his arm sneakingly sliding over the leather surface to settle behind the back of your neck. A drink is placed in front of the both of you a few minutes later and the guys get lost in their conversations, ignoring everyone else but each other.

Jeno's arm stays put behind you while you play on your phone, having some casual conversation with the guys here and there. Jaemin glances your way, noting how close Jeno is to you, not saying a single word. He raises his eyebrows questioningly and continues chattering with Mark. The looks Jaemin shoots you and Jeno doesn't go unnoticed, and Haechan elbows you. You and Jeno take that as your signal to stop behaving so foolishly, so you put some distance between your bodies, the arm behind your neck retreating and his body leaning in to speak quietly.

"Alright, I'm going for round three," Chenle announces, a satisfied groan as he empties his beer bottle and rises to his feet. He glances toward his left, motioning to you with his hand and you nod your head. You rise from the booth, moving aside to let him out. "Wanna come with, Y/N?"

You shuffle out behind him. "Why not?"

With that, you and the younger walk your way to the bar and get the bartenders' attention. After ordering and paying, the two of you linger at the counter, having a few moments alone to converse.

"So," he begins, tapping his nails against the surface and clicking his tongue, "you and Jeno, huh?"

A look of amusement creeps its way across Chenle's features, his expression holding a mix of something else that you can't quite identify. The latter sits in the middle of the table, hands under his chin, contemplating how exactly to handle the conversation.

"Is it that obvious?" your eyes widen, your voice a breathy whisper.

"Come on. Anyone within a mile could tell," Chenle chuckles and shrugs, not meaning any harm or judgment behind the tone he's taken with you.

"Shit, shit, shit," you slap a palm against your face and peek in between your fingers, catching a glimpse of Chenle's contagious smile. "First Haechan and now you? God, I'm fucked, aren't I?"

Chenle lifts himself from the stool and settles next to you, a friendly smile on his face. The mood around him softens immediately and his aura is enough to calm you, to lift a weight from your shoulders. He doesn't mean any ill-will, afterall.

"Look, Y/N. Nobody will think negatively of you. Jaemin will probably say shit because he's your brother but if you like Jeno, like actually like him, then go for him," his words are genuine, his thoughts pure of concern for a friend.

He does have a point. Things aren't quite simple and clear when it comes to the situation between you and Jeno, however, this would definitely end things for good. No more sneaking around or secret meetings.

No more worrying.

"So, will you tell him?" Chenle asks you gently, placing his hand upon yours with reassurance. "You can't keep this going if it isn't working. You owe that to yourself. Jeno, too."

You muster the courage and exhale a shaky sigh. "Maybe. I'll try."

When the two of you return, the rest of your company has made themselves scarce around the place, spread out around and dancing wildly, yelling in each other's faces, drinking and drinking to drown whatever feelings they were struggling with at the present moment. The place begins to fill with even more patrons, causing it to become cramped, your nerves and anxiety to rise and rise and rise until you can barely manage a calm facial expression.

Jeno pulls you down onto the seat next to him, his lips next to your ear, husky voice rumbling in his chest. "You ok, princess? Wanna sit for a few?"

You nod, appreciating the thoughtfulness he's put into trying to comfort you.The tension leaves your body when he lets a hand rest over yours in the space between you two. "Yeah, thank you, Jeno." 

"Been thinking 'bout you for a little," Jeno flashes his eyes towards you, a small, teasing smile growing. "Maybe a few things have been popping in my head..."

"Mhm," the corner of your lip lifts as you smirk. "Care to elaborate, or?"

"Nah," Jeno answers smoothly, pulling you a little bit closer. "It's a conversation that we can have later."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Why don't we get out of here?"

Jeno hums again. "And if the guys notice?"

"I don't care any more," you looked at him. You realized there was no need to hold back anything anymore. "All I want is you, Jeno. And I'm done hiding us."

Jeno shifts to get a better look at your face, the warmth of your skin touching his in the crowded, bustling bar. He presses his palm against the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "Let's get out of here then."

Grabbing a few scattered items lying on the table, the two of you get up from the seats and, taking your hands in his, move to exit the bar with no resistance or arguments coming your way, an enormous sigh of relief passing from your lungs.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he whispers against your ear. A small shiver creeps up your spine. "I got you."

You quickly meet a brisk and cold night's air the instant the two of you step outside, the crickets making a loud chirping sound as Jeno and you speed walk back towards the direction of his vehicle. Once arriving and getting in, Jeno reaches over and buckles you in, his free hand cradling the base of your skull when you lean forward to give him a heated and needy kiss, sucking the bottom of his lips harshly. The instant he shuts his door, Jeno reaches for your face, tilting it toward his, kissing you with urgency, deep and searching, an almost desperation underlying in the action. The way he looks at you after parting his lips from yours, dark irises staring into your soul, almost makes your breath stop altogether.

"Now will you tell me?" you ask quietly.

"When we get home. I'll tell you," he tells you as he backs out of the parking spot. The corners of his mouth quirk. "And I'll show you, too."

It doesn't take the two of you long to get to his place, the ride quiet and short, barely a car in sight in front or behind Jeno's. Pulling into his driveway, Jeno drives right up and parks the car, killing the ignition and taking a breath before moving. Unbuckling and exiting his door, you meet Jeno near the entrance, keys jingling as he unlocks and opens the heavy metal, letting you walk in first. After stepping foot in, the cool air conditioning hits, causing a small shiver.

"Chilly?" Jeno walks into his kitchen and heads towards a cabinet, grabbing two mugs and the bag of green tea that Jaemin bought for him as a gift, as a welcoming token. "Want me to turn up the heater?"

You nod and rub your hands together in a feeble attempt to warm yourself.

"Yeah, if that's not a problem," you plop onto his couch, draping the throw blanket over yourself. It wasn't even a second later before he's bringing the hot cups of tea and sitting down next to you, a steam of minty, earthy and comforting smell flowing from the mugs. You took a whiff and let the warm and flavorful aroma relax you. The warmth that travels through you isn't just from the liquid.

"Better?" Jeno rests his mug on the coffee table in front and draws you to his chest. The heat from his body keeps you warm and you let yourself get lost in it. "Nice?"

"Much. Thanks," you cuddle into his shoulder. "Now are you gonna explain or are you gonna keep dancing around the subject?"

He laughs, a loud and airy one, his laugh lines crinkling, his nose scrunching. Your stomach does that familiar flipping thing as you try your best not to blush like a crazy person and curl yourself into a ball right here and now. "I know when we first agreed to this thing it was only gonna be sex, y'know?"

You chuckle under your breath, suddenly finding a loose string on his hoodie rather interesting as you toy with it.

"The thing is…" Jeno begins. "This...us? Fuck. We've been doing this thing for a full year. The sex is nice, so nice, but I find myself missing every other damn thing you do. What you sound like when you first wake up. How cute you look when you sleep, and when you laugh. Just being around you. Damn. And honestly-" His hands land on top of yours, the tingles settling in, the warmth growing. You feel his heart quicken in his chest, thumping loudly and so hard you feel it about to burst. He clears his throat. "The fact is...Y/N, I've been madly, deeply in love with you for a damn long time, and it's impossible for me not to fall deeper and deeper, because you are so beautiful and amazing that it makes my chest fucking burst sometimes and–"

He's stopped mid sentence by your finger gently pressing over his lips, your cheeks glowing.

"Jeno," you breathed. "You have no idea how long I've wanted you, truly wanted you. Ever since I came home from overseas, you've been the one person in this damn world I've been thinking about. Like nonstop. No one else comes close. The feelings, they're mutual, Jeno, for real." 

Your throat tightens, your emotions spilling out before you could control yourself. "I'm pretty fucking sure I'm in love with you, Lee Jeno. Fucking love you. All of you. Every single bit of you. And I don't care if Jaemin or the world knows that."

You take your finger away, allowing him to speak. 

"Then be with me," he leans forward and presses a tender and slow kiss to your lips, so sweet that it sends a delightful flutter in the pit of your stomach. He parts for just a moment to press another tender kiss to your neck, then another higher up. "Let's give this a shot. Officially. Because I'm very fucking in love with you. For the last year I haven't stopped thinking about you, all the sweet little things you do for me, the late night chats, the mornings I get to wake up with you and talk to you."

He smiles down at you, all boyish, but that dimple of his is undeniably adorable. You've always been fascinated by it. It's the first thing that attracted you to him the first time the two of you met.

You don't say a word as you cup his face and bring his lips down onto yours, this kiss much more eager and a bit forceful, so passionate you almost gasp and whine from the sensation of it. He reaches an arm up and tangles it in your hair, bringing your mouths closer and closer.

Pulling away after what seems like hours, your breathing becomes labored, heavy, and Jeno stands, placing both hands under you and carrying you to his room, your arms draped around his neck and a shy smile playing on his lips.

"God, I'm in so much trouble," he sets you down on the bed.

"Yeah?" you stare up at him from where you lie on the mattress.

"Fuck yes," he shakes his head in amazement, still staring at you as though you've cast a spell upon him and there's no turning back from this.

You spread your legs and motion for him to join. Jeno settles himself above you, his weight resting between your legs and on his arms that he keeps next to your head, staring deeply into your eyes. He leans down and you tilt your head to capture his lips, whimpering slightly, the noise making him groan and your stomach tightens in anticipation.

"Mhm, and how much are you in trouble?" you mumble against his lips.

Jeno doesn't respond, only kisses your lips with such vigor and intensity you let out an airy whine, deepening the kiss. With expert hands, he undressed you, tugging your clothes off piece by piece, lips pressed into every patch of exposed skin. Once you're completely bare and laid bare under him, you could see Jeno swallow the lump that formed in his throat, pupils blown wide and wanting and full of lust and wonder. He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his index and traces it across your cheek.

"For starters," Jeno lets out, eyes wandering from the top of your head, the downcast gaze slowly going to the valley of your chest and lower and lower until your abdomen. He hums appreciatively and smirks when he comes back up. 

"You have the most beautiful face." His other hand comes up to stroke your hair softly. "Most beautiful lips, most beautiful skin." Jeno tucks your hair behind your ear and leans closer.

"So you only fell in love with my beauty?" you jest, earning a teasing nip from him.

"Such a sassy mouth," Jeno tugs your ear. "Definitely more."

"Then don't just say that and show me what that trouble is all about," you sit up and give him a push. Jeno's quick to obey as he flips you on top of him, hands moving to rub and grope your ass, hips circling to meet his. Your fingers are under his shirt and lifting it to pull it over his head. Your fingers work his belt buckle and buttons of his jeans, his briefs quickly following and joining your clothes on his floor. He sits back and watches you with a lascivious gaze.

"Go on," you order gently. "Tell me more. I wanna hear what kind of trouble I cause you."

Your voice takes Jeno's body prisoner as you speak in a seductive, smoky tone, whispering and purring in his ear as you press the pad of your middle finger against the middle of his chest, rubbing slowly downward and leaving a trail of tingly goosebumps, a breathless groan coming from his throat.

"Do I have to?" he throws his head back, sighing blissfully when you run both hands down his sides, brushing the tip of your thumbs under his collar bones and digging them in, relishing the little hisses and grunts. Jeno lets you handle his body the way you want, turning his body at will and pulling and pushing him, settling on top of his torso as you drag the blunt fingernails of your index finger, lightly down his abdomen and chuckling. "Baby, you're driving me insane right now."

"That's the point," you reply smugly.

"Do what you want," Jeno lays back, defeated.

"Yeah?" He's mesmerized the second your fingers intertwine with his, the intensity and chemistry sparking between the two of you burning and heavy with raw arousal, and he loves every fucking second of it. Loves that you've allowed him the opportunity to love and indulge in a human like you. You settle down on his thighs, the heat of the fire pooling below, his length twitching and hardening to life. "Trouble's gonna be fucking huge."

Jeno's laughing at your silly behavior and your hands running along every crevice of his body. It's all so warm and sweet and pleasant and just feels so damn right and-

"You're my fucking trouble, Jeno," you swipe your tongue over his jaw. "Only you and you alone."

"You're my trouble too, sweetheart," he responds smoothly, voice thick and raspy. "Everything about you is trouble and there's no looking back."

He tilts his head and plants a tender kiss to your parted lips, this time with no sense of hurry or hurry. It's an act of affection and honesty. You feel yourself melt in his palms and inside the recess of his heart. You could stay like this, here with Jeno, forever.

You'd gladly welcome a future with him.

You place your forehead against Jeno's, hands holding his jaw as he runs his fingers up and down your bare back. Jeno is everything and more that you've wanted and more. With every touch and soft kiss, a rush runs through you, an electricity in the air.  You slowly lowered yourself on his shaft, feeling yourself clench around him, sighing his name.

"I'm fine," you answered, rocking your hips back and forth and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

He's gazing intently in the low light of his room. "Sure?"

Buried to the hilt, you find his hands with yours, entwining them together with ease. They're bigger than yours and your hands fit perfectly around the grooves in his palms. Jeno rolls his hips into yours slowly. The tingles are back, the sweet sounds of pleasure elicited from his lips sending your heart on an endless beat. "Yeah, I'm more than sure."

With a firm and steady grasp on your hips and the curve in your backside, the pair of you become one. The motion of your bodies blends in perfect synchrony and all other noises fade. You can feel the ecstasy as his cock slips in and out with every grind of your hips. He leans forward, brushing your nose before angling his mouth to meet yours. It's a deep, emotional kiss; Jeno holds you tenderly while you gently caress the nape of his neck. As his lips move with yours, his cock presses in deeper and you're unable to resist moaning. It's a delicious rhythm that fills your senses. You'll remember his gentle thrusting for the rest of your life, each movement slow, allowing the sensation to build. Jeno feels too good and you can't help yourself from breaking away and gasping his name into the silence.

"That's my girl," Jeno trails his teeth along your collarbone. You grab at his back, sure that the scratches will leave a mark or two. You don't want to imagine it ending. You grip his ass with one hand and encourage the tempo of his hips.

You continue rocking with him, wanting it to last, savouring the feel. His pace builds in intensity as the need builds, the thickness filling you so nicely. He continues with long and even strokes. With his cock driving in and out of you at a tantalizing speed, you could feel your own need for release rising. 

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking amazing," he breathes. The pleasure is exquisite and you whimper. 

"J-Jeno, oh my god..." your moans rise in pitch as you get lost in the sensations and reach the highest peak of bliss, waves of orgasmic shudders rolling through you, and his name spilling from your lips.

"Come on, cum for me baby. Come for me, princess, just like that. Good girl," Jeno groans when you release, burying your nails into his scalp, your walls tightening around him and his cock still deep inside.

Waves crash through Jeno as his hot seed hits your wall, filling you up, a final curse falling from his lips. He holds your head and sighs heavily. His heart pounds as he holds you, a reassuring palm resting between your shoulder blades. He collapses back on the bed, bringing you down on his chest, listening to the heavy, ragged pants as you recover from your high.

When the moment settles and you can think coherently again, Jeno lifts himself up to lean against the bedrest while you perch your chin upon his pec, hands roaming along the contours of his shoulders and upper body, eyes fixated and mesmerized by him, eyes almost glossed over.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey there," you respond breathlessly.

A large hand moves the strands of sweat slicked hair plastered to your face. His touch is a little ticklish on your skin and you resist the temptation to wriggle away.

"Thirsty? I know I'm really thirsty," Jeno grins when you nod and sigh, and walks out of his bedroom stark naked and ready to fetch drinks for the two of you. The sound of his bare feet patting down the hallway fills the room as you stretch and throw yourself back on the pillows and his scent. It's him. Nothing else but him.

Just Jeno.

Minutes later he returns with a cold glass of water for you, helping you sit up and urging you to take it all. A pleased, content moan is expelled as he drinks his beverage.

“Feel better now?” Jeno asked.

You nod. He climbs back into bed, reaching over to place his own cup on the nightstand.

"Now come here and let's cuddle," he spreads his arms for you to curl up in them.

"Scooch over then," you commanded.

"Scooch?" he asks incredulously and laughs.

"Yes," you position yourself against his body, loving the way his muscular body curves around and around. "You and your massive shoulders are too wide and there's barely enough room on this bed. Scooch and cuddle me."

His laugh shakes you, making you join in the fun, a happy, airy tingle zinging up and down your spine.

"So bossy," Jeno complains, though his hand is warm on your lower back and his chin is hooked on top of your head. 

You love this position because you get to use the strong planes of his body like a pillow, nestling between the nooks and crannies of him. "And you love it."

"Mhm, yeah." A blanket is drawn up over the two of you and you settle in, nose rubbing in the hollow of his neck, comfort and the calming presence of Jeno lulling you to sleep. "I really do."

[nina-ya]

Can I request Zoro, Kid, and Law (separately) where their respective crew are going to like (whether it be for a mission or just for fun), a fancy event where they need to dress up, and the dress is like dressed up, and is so pretty, that the boys can’t resist and doesn’t stop kissing them? Idk, I thought it’d be cute and I love needy men who are so in love with their partner lol

One Piece Men Being Needy (Zoro, Kid, and Law)

Pairings: Zoro x reader, Kid x reader, Law x reader (all separate) CW: Suggestive content. A lot of implied sex. Just,,,... i fear i wrote this with nothing but sinful thoughts in mind HAHADJK WC: ~1.9k total A/N: I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO THIS BUT I AM HERE HI!! This was on my mind for much longer than i would ever admit so anon i greatly thank you for letting me write about them in this context hugs and kisses to you <3

You never expected such a simple choice in attire to stir such a reaction from Zoro. His intense gaze did not leave you the moment you stepped foot off the ship, dressed to the nines for the banquet. 

Throughout the evening, Zoro could not keep his hands off of you. Whether it was a firm grasp on your waist, pulling you close to his side, or a sly touch under the table, he seemed off tonight. And the kisses, oh, the kisses were something else. More frequent than usual, each one leaving you wanting more.

What really caught you off guard was when he pulled you onto his lap, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. 

“Zoro,” you whispered, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you felt his own lips planting kisses along your exposed neck and shoulder, “what’s gotten into you tonight?”

He smiled against your skin, his arms tightening around your waist as he murmured back, “Just couldn’t resist.”

You tilted your head to make eye contact with him, “Well, I’m not complaining,” you teased, reaching up to briefly run your hand through his hair. 

Zoro’s smile widened at your playful response, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter just as fast as the day you first met him. “Glad to hear it,” he said, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. The two of you were lost in your own little world, focusing on the feeling of your lips against each other as the banquet faded in the background. 

But moments like these can’t last forever, and your attention was pulled to a familiar voice calling your names. You glanced over to see Nami approaching, a sly smile on her face as she caught the sight of the two of you. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. "Sucking each other's faces off, are we?"

You and Zoro quickly pulled apart, though the warmth of his embrace lingered on your skin. "Nami!" you exclaimed, feeling a rush of embarrassment heat up your cheeks.

Zoro just grunted in response, avoiding eye contact with Nami. If you looked closely, you could point out the smallest hint of redness creeping up onto his cheeks.

Nami chuckled at your reaction, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease you both. "It’s not like you’re really hiding it well," she said with a laugh before turning to head back to the dance floor. 

You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed at Nami’s teasing, letting out a nervous laugh as she walked away. Zoro seemed amused by the whole situation, and went right back to planting kisses down your neck. His trail of kisses made their way up to your ear when he muttered into your ear, “She’s right. We are kind of making this obvious. Why don’t we cut this short and head back to the ship?” - - -

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the door behind you swung open, pulling you out of your concentration. You shifted your attention in the mirror to see Kid standing in the doorway, dressed in a more formal attire for the night's events. 

He strolled into the room, walking up behind you snaking his arms around your waist as he admired you through the mirror. “You look gorgeous.” He commented, planting a kiss against your temple. He looked down and his eyes focused on the lipstick in your hand and a smirk played on his lips. “Is that mine?” he asked.

You hummed in response as you cleaned up one of the edges. “This looked like the perfect shade,” you pulled back from the mirror and tilted your head to admire your makeup, “and it seems like I was right.” 

Kid's smirk widened as he watched you, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, I suppose you have good taste," he teased, reaching out to take the lipstick from your hand. "But you know the rules, sweetheart. You gotta pay a price to borrow that."

Before you could protest, Kid leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. His lips were warm against yours, but just as quickly as it began, Kid pulled back, a smirk spreading across his face as you both took in the sight of your lipstick smeared at the edges.

You scolded Kid, lightly shoving his arm as you reached for your makeup remover. "You're going to make us late!" you exclaimed, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice as you dabbed at the smudged lipstick.

Kid chuckled, his arms still wrapped around your waist as he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving another mark in the process. "Relax, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We've got plenty of time."

As you worked to fix your makeup, Kid's hands roamed over your waist and shoulders, his touch light and affectionate as he trailed kisses along your neck, leaving more of a mess for you to clean up. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky, “you should dress like this more often. You look absolutely beautiful."

You couldn't help but enjoy the compliments he’s throwing your way along with the feeling of his large hands tracing your body, giving squeezes ever so often. "Are you trying to flatter me?" you teased, glancing at him through the mirror. 

You could feel Kid's lips curl into a playful smirk against your skin as he responded "Is it working?" he murmured, looking up to lock eyes with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "Because I have a proposition for you."

Your heart was already jumping out of your chest and yet it managed to beat just a bit faster as your curiosity heightened by his words. "Oh? And what might that be?" you asked, unable to hide the anticipation in your voice.

His hands trailed lower, fingers brushing over the curve of your hips as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "You know, we don't have to go to the event," he suggested, his voice laced with desire. "We don’t have to go out. We could stay right here. "

Excitement bubbled in your stomach at his suggestion. You placed down the items in your hand and turned around, draping your arms over his shoulders, leaning in., "And what exactly did you have in mind that we do?" you teased, your own voice lust laden.

“I have a few ideas in mind,” he murmured. With a sly grin, Kid's hands moved under your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the counter behind you. He closed the distance between you two, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His lips moved hungrily against yours, leaving you absolutely breathless. He pulled your body against his and your hands threaded through his hair as you relished in the feelings. Yeah, you guys are not making it to that event. - - - Golden eyes fixated on you from across the room, the orbs drinking in every movement you made, every breath you took, every word you spoke as you effortlessly mingled with the other guests at the lavish gala that you had to attend for a mission. How was Law expected to focus when you looked utterly captivating? The moment you emerged from the cramped confines of the Polar Tangs’ bathroom, adorned in that breathtaking dress, he knew he was spellbound. The mission, albeit important, paled in comparison to the magnetic pull you seemed to have.

Gathering intelligence on the enemy crew’s whereabouts seemed a trivial task to Law compared to the challenge of tearing his gaze away from you. You charmed the guests around you, soft laughter spilling from your lips as you feign interest in their rather vacuous jokes. It all seemed so effortless to you. As if in a trance, Law found himself setting down his champagne glass on the nearest counter, his feet making unconscious strides drawing him in your direction. 

You stole a glance in his direction and noticed Law drawing nearer, seemingly with an urgent thought on his mind. The other guests, too, couldn’t help but notice his presence, their curiosity heightened by his sudden intrusion into your conversation.

“Excuse us for a moment,” Law simply said, his voice low, yet resolute as he grabbed your hand and led you away from the crowd. He offered a quick apology to the guests you were engaged in a conversation with, and you allowed yourself to be guided by him, confusion and anticipation filling you as you were whisked away.

He guided you with purpose, turning corner after corner until you reached a seemingly secluded area. You opened your mouth to speak, but before a single word could escape, his lips crashed against yours in an urgent kiss. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss with such an intensity that you couldn’t even process what was going on. His lips were warm and insistent against yours, and you melted into his embrace.

Lost in the intoxicating feelings of the kiss, you forgot about the world around you, the mission being pushed in the depths of your mind as you are consumed by the sensation of Laws’s lips against yours. But just as quickly as it began, Law reluctantly pulled back, your ragged breaths mingling with each other as he gazed deeply into your eyes. “I just couldn’t resist,” he confessed, his voice filled with need, each word charged with an undeniable desire. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.” 

“Law,” you began, your words breathy as you recovered from the previous kiss, “the mission, we need to get back to- mph!” He silenced you with another kiss. The way his lips moved against yours threatened to consume you entirely before you lightly pushed on his chest to separate the two of you. 

“Don’t worry about the mission.” he muttered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before continuing, “I’ve got the information we need.” His words were accompanied by the rapid thumping of his heart against your palm, mirroring the frantic beat of your own. “You look just so,” he started planting wet kisses down your neck as his hands danced down the sides of your body, pulling a small gasp from you as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. As his lips made their way back up to your ear, he finished his thought, “enchanting. You just look utterly enchanting, and I would like to  take advantage of this.” You could practically hear the smirk in his words while he guided you backwards until your back made contact with the wall behind you. Law was certainly going to make it clear that nothing else mattered in that moment except the two of you.

[natlovesls2]

Hand Warmers

Lando x Fem!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, mentions of boobs and touching them, super short, no use of y/n, I'm American (I think that should be a warning 🤷‍♀️ ), images used are not mine as are from pinterest, possible grammatical errors (its late and I have brain rot from little sleep)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 0.6k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: its cold and Landos hands need to be warmed

.ೃ࿐request: Can you do a lando x reader

where reader doesn’t want to let go of his hand but she need to open something with both (or whatever you can think of) and she put his hand on top of her boob and something like that ??

Please if you have the time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: Feel free to let me know if something is wrong or weird. Also feel free to request something

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Lando had been holding your hand hostage the whole day, refusing to let go despite the inconvenience. As the day progressed, his hold on your hand tightened. It was impossible to escape his hold, even as you ate your lunch, having to beg to be let go to use the bathroom. His only excuse was the freezing temperature, claiming that your hands were warmer than his and you had to help him warm up.

⊹˚₊‧─────────‧₊˚⊹˚₊‧─────────‧₊˚⊹

The cold winter weather had taken over your apartment despite having closed the door immediately after waking in. It was more frigid than the average year, and the abundance of layers did nothing to keep you warm as you lay on the couch cuddled with your boyfriend. “I think we should turn the heater on.”

“I don’t want to get up; this is comfortable, plus your hands are warm,” Lando grumbled into the side of your neck, pulling you closer to himself to prevent you from leaving. 

“Don’t."

“What? I’m not doing anything. We can warm each other up. I don’t want to let you go,” his hold on your hands tightened, placing a few kisses on your neck, snuggling closer to you.

While Lando had always been clingy, more so during the cold winter days, this was a new extreme. His cold hands firmly gripped your own, a continued desperate attempt to keep you from leaving his side. "I promise to come back once the heater is turned on."

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise," you reassure him, feeling his grip loosen, and finally, you break free. You could feel his eyes on you, closely watching as you walked to the heater and turned it on. He was skeptical about the promise you had made. The way his eyes followed your every move proved that. 

"You're taking too long," he complained, voice whiny as he sat up in his spot, grabby hands reaching out in your direction. The slower you walked back to him, the more childlike he became. His pout only increased as he realized you were purposefully taking your time.

"You're being mean," he continued to whine, only stopping when you finally sat next to him again, hands immediately grabbing your own. He briefly let go of your hand to turn on the television, quickly grabbing and kissing them. 

"Don't you think you've held my hand enough?"

"No, I think I've held your hand for too little," he says, slightly pouting again, leaning forward to press a light kiss to your lips. This was always his tactic for getting what he wanted. The constant pouting and occasional kisses were well-known to you. It was almost expected from him, especially when things weren't going exactly the way he wanted them to. 

"Let go, Lando," you said, refusing to fall victim to his ploy– knowing that if you allowed him to get away with this, he would only use it against you. 

"Noooo," he said, voice high and whiny, squeezing your hand tighter, peppering your face with kisses, gently stroking your hands. 

"It's getting warmer in here," you struggle against him, letting out a sigh of relief as he finally lets go of your hands. This was a victory in your eyes, though you knew it would be a short-lived victory– Lando being a very persistent person. 

"I'm still cold," he says after a few minutes, resting his hand on your waist. 

“You’re annoying,” you say, moving his hands under your shirt and placing them on your breasts, shivering at the freezing touch, “You're fucking freezing.”

“Yeah, but I'm definitely getting warmer,” he gently squeezes your boobs, stealing their warmth for himself. 

"At my expense," you say, your body beginning to relax as Lando's hands warmed themselves between your breasts and bra. 

"You're the one who offered," he continues to softly but firmly massage and squeeze them, "I think these might be the best hand warmers."

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[screampied]

Talking about Shiu…. Maybe you’ll consider this request, sucking him off while he is driving the car? 😇 Like he looks so sexy smoking the cigarette and you just can’t help it 😔 and maybe just maybe this leads to him fucking you in the backseat (or on the hood)…

❤︎ ໋𓈒 sucking shiu off in the car leading to you being on the hood

warnings. fem! reader, road head, shotgunning, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, semi-public, mdni.

“mhm,” he grunts roughly, briefly flickering his eyes towards you the duration of the ride—you’d be lean over the armrest that sat between the car, sinking your mouth down onto his hardened length. your tongue swirls around his tip, it leaks and leaks with candied pre-cum that you just couldn’t get enough. shiu’s abs underneath his shirt flexed and tense and he prepares to make a right turn. “good girl. such a good—good girl.”

you make sure not to use any teeth the entire time, he groans the more your warm throat goes down on him. “. . . shit,” he huffs out a single breath, lit cigarettes poking between his teeth. “needy baby. just couldn’t wait ‘till we get home, huh.”

a hand wraps around his length, skimming your tongue alongside the vein that runs down his cock before you briefly gag. he grunts and you watch as he stops at a red light. a few seconds to a minute of a shortened pause, all he really needed.

“keep those eyes up here, doll. might as . . well,” he rasps, and he keeps cutting off from how good you’re taking him. briefly, your eyes close before you feel the tip of his dick reach the very back of your throat. saliva starts to run down the corners of your mouth and he sneers. “messy girl. getting my lap ‘n y’erself wet,” and then with a thumb, he brushes it away before making you sink down even further once you’re about to mumble a reply. “nuh uh, don’t speak right now. manners, princess. no talkin’ with your mouth full, heh.”

a lustrous web of saliva departs from your lips as you pull up—giving yourself a moment to breathe.

shiu stares at you the entire time, a rough hand gingerly goes through your hair before gifting you a head pat. “ah, so pretty. satisfied yet?”

“. . no,” you murmur before sinking back down onto his hefty length.

“yeahhh,” he hums to himself before pressing a foot back on the gas, the entire vehicle growling before it picks up regular speed once the light shifts to green again. “thought so, baby. always been such a greedy girl.”

you end up sucking shiu off the entire car ride— it ends up being a good twenty minutes before he has no choice but to pull over.

you’ve been being too much of a brat, you made him cum twice before continuing to suck him off despite him being so sensitive. perhaps you wanted to piss shiu off…. just a tad bit.

now, that’s right when you found yourself bent all over on the very hood of the car.

he’s got your hips gripped firmly in place and you’re being stuffed with full inches of his cock. you bite your lip, sneakily trying to drag a hand down to feel between your parted legs and that’s when he smacks it away.

“nah,” is all he says, and you whimper, being fucked vigorously against the car.

he’s pulled over near the side of the road and thankfully it was pretty late at night. not that many people were out and about at this particular time but still…

there were a few cars driving past and you hoped they didn’t see you—then again part of you did. “don’t touch my pussy, girl. got some nerve pulling that on me.”

his voice was a raspy low, his cigarette was still in his mouth and occasionally he’d take it out— taking a few brief puffs.

his lungs were clouded, and he’s delving all through your cunt. you swallowed him whole, hugging his cock dry with your gummy walls and you were just a whiney mess.

“s—shiuuu,” you moan, feeling him use one hand to tug on your pulled up skirt. you couldn’t help but feel a smile pressing against your lips. the way his hips smacks back and forth, it’s got your head spinning. the coldness of the car slides against your skin and as your legs part. you’re just spewing out cute babbles over and over like a lewd mantra. along the lines of, “harder, fuck me harder.”

that earns a mean spank from him.

with such recoil, your ass jitters from his palm that kisses against your skin. he’s still got you bent over on his hood, his angry tip prodding against your g-spot every so often and your toes curl up in pleasure.

“. . . oh, doll, don’t tell me how to fuck,” he coos, and he lays his weight right against you. he’s so close, he smells so good. a rich expensive type cologne scent.

nowhere near cheap.

it fills up your nostrils, only making you crave him even more. “focus on those pretty moans you keep givin’ me, yeah?”

his voice, it was so smooth..

you could get wet from it all day — or was the saying you could listen to his voice all day, who cares. all you knew was that you were about to cum yet again, it was approaching, and it was approaching quick.

shiu’s grip remains on the back of your skirt, occasionally brushing his fingers against your waist before snickering.

“look at this gorgeous body,” he hums, staring at your merely perfect arch. your ass was up, all up just for him. with hooded eyes, he studies every inch of your frame before deepening the angle. “all mine . . mhm, fuckk,” he grunts, feeling his cockhead swipe against a spot that earns out a sweet whine from you. there. he knew it was that spot, one of your sweet spots that made you go stupid crazy.

you’re all arched, bent over the front part of his car — the hood. for some reason it makes you pulse even more at the sheer realization that the two of you were in public. it was pitch black out, but if anyone were as to squint or shine just the tiniest bit of light, you’d be spotted. spotted with the most lewd expression on your face, maw dangling, eyebrows parting, tongue lolled all out.

sweaty palms press against the car and you’re whimpering at his thick cock just drilling into you. ruthlessly, you can feel yourself starting salivate.

“such a cock hungry girl, ‘s all you think about, huh? could have been home already but someone couldn’t— fuckin’ wait.” and as his voice pitches at his last word, he spanks your ass just to watch it jiggle one more time. you’re so cute, each mewl escaping from his lips brings music to his ears. shiu was gentle with his touch, his fingers roaming all over your body. however, his thrusts were a different story.

he made sure you felt every inch, his dick ran through each spot— each hidden corner, crevice, he knew how to make you cry out. “i-i’m close, shiu,” you babble out, feeling the car jolt and shake the more you’re being ridiculously hammered against it. he stretches your cunt out so good—so good you could compare the stretch easily to an elastic band.

his girth, it had you drooling.

seeping even…

he was so thick it had your mind going for a loop, shiu pulls your hips back into him….. again and again and again, it’s repetitive.

“you are, aren’t ya?” he murmurs in a husked voice, taking another deep inhale then exhale of smoke. his rhythm picks up a bit more before you’re just a whiny mess, anticipating your incoming orgasm. “oh, she’s about to fuckin’ cummm,” he teases, and you’re losing your composure—losing your own rhythm.

everything within you clenched and you gasp once his tip brushes against your nub.

your clit pulses and your eyes roll back the very second you feel it. nerves sneak within you, bundles and bundles of sensitive nerves that was just waiting for this particular moment to arise. “f-fuckkk, shiu,” you’d pant, moaning again before eventually you end up coming. shiu chortles lowly, running a hand across your skin to make you shiver a bit more. it was powerful, your orgasm that he easily snatched out of you.

splaying a big hand against your lower back, he watches as you gradually dissolve. he slows down, still buried inside of you before his cock twitched between your folds— he doesn’t finish but he’s not too worried about that, as long as his pretty girl gets off, he’ll live.

“what a damn mess,” shiu jibes in a rough voice, hearing your cute pants. your teeth shatter a bit from still feeling such intensity roam freely all through you. “turn around, baby.”

your chest heaves and he pulls out for you to do so. while you turn around, he lifts you up before placing you to sit on the hood. as if instinct, your legs wrap around his slim waist and he leans right into you.

“open your mouth.”

you do, parting your lips for him with no questions being asked.

shiu leans in and you stare at him. he’s got a smug expression before he inhaled a single puff, removing his cigarette before blowing a good amount of smoke into your mouth. after that, he presses his hot lips into yours. you whine once more, a heel of yours running down his waist before he runs a tongue down your throat. as the smoke goes against your taste buds, you moan, only craving more—you missed being stuffed full already, and you wanted him to finish inside you this time.

after a while, he ends up breaking away, witnessing the pretty cobweb of saliva depart both his and your lips before swiping a thumb across your mouth. “atta fuckin’ girl,” he breathes, staring right into your eyes. he could tell you wanted more from your body language.

yet everything comes to a sudden end once the screeching sound of a police siren gets closer and closer towards you both.

shiu’s sly smile fades before he grunts, the two of you ended up getting caught, surprise surprise.

“…. shit.”

[fangswbenefits]

Double-edged Sword

Summary: Miguel knows he has to let you go before you can be his. But it’s not that simple. Especially when you keep on testing his limits…

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.2k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. F*ngering.

Part 1 (if you're just starting out) - Previous part

By the time Miguel rose from his slumber, he was met with a pair of curious eyes glaring at him.

"You snore."

A sleepy yawn worked its way out of his throat as he lifted his wrist to assess the time. It was still fairly early in the morning, and he allowed himself to relax against your soft pillows.

You were on your side, both hands tucked under your head, and your trademark sweet smile curling your lips.

"Did you sleep well?"

Miguel nodded, mustering the will to sit up against the bed rest. He soon realised he had fallen asleep on top of the comforter with just a blanket covering him, whereas you were nicely tucked inside your bedsheets.

A distinct barrier between you two.

He looked down at you through sleepy eyes, wishing he could plant a soft kiss to your temple.

You looked so peaceful and it brought a sense of calmness to him as well.

"I was thinking of meeting Tom today.." you began, as you flopped onto your back. "Think you can get someone to cover for me? Just for a while?"

And just like that, Miguel's stomach turned uncomfortably. "Today? Already?"

Your head turned to him. "Why? Do you think I should wait? Do we have something important today?"

"Maybe you should wait a little longer," he said with a sigh. "Take some time to figure out the best approach."

"I've been waiting for months... I just... I really need this," you whispered, now facing away from him.

In reality, Miguel knew there wasn't much he could say to deter you from this. He couldn't really blame you from wanting to set things right with someone who meant so much to you.

He would have given everything to be able to get that opportunity with Gabriella.

However, the less rational side of him was seething with jealousy. After all, you had revealed you had feelings for him.

But what truly fueled his escalating jealousy was what had happened last night. The kiss, him touching himself in front of you, and you touching yourself in front of him. Intimacy had engulfed you both so unexpectedly, that he wondered if it had been a mistake.

He dreaded that thought, so he promptly pushed it away.

"Sure. Take your time."

You then shifted to sit next to him, your shirt briefly clinging to your breasts, letting him know you were braless.

Of course.

He groaned inwardly at the sight of the small protuberances on each nipple.

And you caught him staring, arching a brow in amusement. "Want to see them again?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. The last thing he needed now was a raging boner.

But it seemed that you were hellbent on torturing him, so when you got on your knees, briefly crawling to him, and finally settling on his lap, he knew he was fucked.

You were wearing nothing but a shirt and sleeping shorts, and when you looped your arms around his neck, he instinctively closed his eyes, bracing himself for yet another erection.

He had expected you to lean in for a kiss, but you remained still, eyeing him with utmost interest.

"This place can be so isolating," you sighed.

Miguel gripped your hips, adjusting you back to prevent having you seating on his crotch.

"Nueva York is overflowing with spiders, yet you still feel so lonely, you know?"

He did know.

It was lonely at the top.

While many spiders had relationships of their own and managed to build their lives around them, Miguel had nearly forgotten how used to being alone he had gotten.

"So you feel lonely here?"

You seemed unsure. "I have you to keep me company, though I figure that doesn't really count. you were forced to babysit me when I forgot got here."

"I wasn't forced to do anything," he corrected, slightly frowning. "I saw the potential in you and wanted to harness that."

Your fingers were absentmindedly caressing the nape of his neck. "I feel really comfortable around you."

That caught him slightly off guard.

"I never thought I'd be able to reveal that secret to anyone... you whispered, shifting to sit on his growing erection. "And last night.."

The not knowing was killing him. On one hand, he was scared to find out that it had been nothing but a hear of the moment thing, but he yearned for more than that... and that part of him needed to kn more.

"Was is because of loneliness, then?"

You pressed your lips tightly together.

"Well, I suppose loneliness gets the best of us, eventually," he sighed, trying his best to seem as casual as possible. "Sometimes, using your hand just doesn't quite do it."

At this, you widened your eyes, before averting your gaze. "It wasn't because I felt lonely... I... I just... you're really attractive and.."

Miguel decided that was enough.

He brought his hand to the back of hour neck and pulled you closer until your lips grazed along his.

"Can I kiss you?"

You swallowed, pressing yourself down on him. "Do you always get this.. excited so easily?"

He gripped your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to have your eyes meet his. "Only for you."

It was a simple confession mixed with desire, but it was enough to startle you.

Fuck.

You leaned back as if snapped from a daydream. "Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

Miguel took a deep breath. "I mean that, and you can feel it," he proved his point with a roll of his hips.

You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open.

His sweet girl was so, so responsive...

Instinctively, you tried to match the sway of his hips, but it felt clumsy and Miguel brought both hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.

Your breaths were coming out shaky as he guided you on his clothed cock, guiding you on how to move your body alongside his.

"Does that feel good?" he asked seductively.

"Yes..." you gasped. "I... I'm.."

Miguel felt the first beads of precum drip from his tip. "You're what?"

Your hands came to grip his shoulders, and you took a deep breath before one of them slid down to your

body.

Miguel immediately knew what you meant, but he intended on having things go differently this time.

" can do that for you... he offered, gripping your wrist gently, as your fingers prepared to slide inside your shorts.

You bit your lip, eyes still squeezed shut. "You have to...”

"I want to," he said firmly.

Nodding, you brought your hand up to his shoulder again, and he took the chance to gently slip his fingers past the waistband.

You immediately shuddered and leaned to rest your face against his neck.

He trailed down carefully and his cock twitched once he reached your clit.

"Is this okay?"

You moaned in response, wrapping your arms around him.

Your clit was already swollen and Miguel felt his fangs threatening to drop once he began to slowly roll the pad of his finger around it.

It didn't take long until he felt your wetness seeping through the layers of fabric and staining his suit.

"Please... Miguel..." you groaned, now jerking your hips against his touch.

He began to drag your wetness along your folds to coat your clit with it. You were soaked for him, your body already working on preparing you to take his COCk.

But he would have to be gentle.

He would have you riding his fingers first.

"Please what, sweet girl?" he cooed, planting a kiss to your temple."

You answered by trying to have his finger slide down to your entrance.

So eager...

"Can you take one finger?"

You halted your hips and took a few seconds to nod.

"I can take it..."

He could cum just from your shaky voice and how much you craved him.

As one finger reached your opening, he felt you tense up lightly.

"I'll be gentle," he promised, tracing the sensitive spot. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

"Don't stop..."

He pressed yet another kiss on your flushed skin, and slipped the tip of one finger inside, feeling you immediately squeeze around him.

Miguel realised that if he were to be your first, he would be utterly fucked. The way you gripped his fingers with your walls nearly tipped him over the edge. He couldn't imagine how ridiculously good it'd feel to have his cock inside you instead.

"Try to relax.."

And you did try.

Until his thumb pressed down on your clit.

Your hips immediately bucked into him, encasing his finger inside you until he was buried knuckle-deep.

"Easy..." he growled, his fangs emerging right away from the overload of sensation.

He doubted you'd be able to take another thick finger of his, so he settled for having just one sliding in and out, drawing the sweetest gasps from you.

"You're doing so well.." he praised.

You rolled your hips instinctively, fucking yourself on his finger as best as inexperience allowed you.

"Take... take your... suit..." you pleaded, clawing at his chest with one hand.

The digital layer vanished down to his waist. He didn't want set his cock free or he would cum in an instant.

Then, he saw you roll up your shirt with trembling fingers, exposing your breasts.

He nearly came rigth there and then.

But nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to do.

You desperately brought your pierced nipples to graze against his bare chest, slowly raising your before sinking down around his finger.

Miguel was now certain that you would be the death of him.

He felt your wetness dribbling down his hand, but kept a steady pressure on your pulsing clit. With each undulation of your body, he was able to feel the cool metal of your piercings digging into his skin, and couldn't fight back the growl that emerged from deep within him.

As expected, he was embarrassingly close, and needed to do something about it.

"Lift your hips."

You groaned in response, stilling for a moment.

"Wait….. why?"

"I'm close.."

You slowly clenched around his finger, and his hand came to grip your hip tight.

"Too close..

The beginning of a pout settled on your face, but you did as requested, finally putting a stop to the near excruciating pleasure he was feeling.

Now he could focus on you.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck to anchor your with each flick of his finger and with each sway of your hips.

"Are you okay?"

You didn't answer, but he could tell from your erratic breathing that you were nearing your peak. Your whimpers increased in intensity, as you clumsily rode his finger, chasing after your bliss.

The sound of his watch beeping broke the rhythm for a second, but Miguel ignored it.

As long as no canon event was involve, he wouldn't shift his attention from you.

It beeped again.

But you were so close.

"I... I think I'm.."

He didn't need your words, your body language spoke to him in ways he didn't know he craved.

The movement you started convulsing against him and tightening your grip around his neck, he knew you were coming undone. Your walls clenched around his finger as the orgasm tore through your body.

Another beep, which Miguel ignored again.

Miguel allowed himself to enjoy your tightness, realising you would need far more preparation than this if you were to take his cock.

Your legs were shaking slightly, as he kept pressing the pad of his thumb against your pulsing clit.

But what really made his cock twitch was the way you kept mumbling his name in between sobs, eventually slumping against his chest.

He slowly withdrew his finger, earning a deep sigh from you.

<CANON EVENT IMMINENT: ANOMALY DETECTED>

Miguel's heart nearly burst out of his chest from the unexpected announcement, and you jolted into him, still descending from your peak.

Instant bones killer.

Much against his will, he brought himself to suit up and carefully set you aside on your bed with a kiss pressed to your forehead, before jumping to his feet, quickly clicking through his watch.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled hurriedly, glazing at you as he neared the bedroom window.

You were a panting mess, but quickly tried to gather yourself. "Don't apologise. Just go."

He hopped onto the window sill and took a deep breath, throwing you a final glance. "TIl find you once I'm done."

"You don't have to... I have to do this on my own."

He nodded. "Don't deactivate your mic."

Your straightened your shirt before sitting on mattress. "Miguel... it'll be fine."

"Do as I say."

You eventually nodded.

He hated having to part from you, but his duty came first, and he couldn't step away from it.

Not even for his sweet girl.

"Lyla, summon squad 12, and give me the readings on the anomaly."

Before swinging into the cool morning air of Nueva York, Miguel saw you crossing your legs and stare at him with those sweet eyes that he was so addicted to.

But he would be there for you again.

He would find you.

And he would make sure your devotion would he his.

Not Tom's.

Once Miguel was done with the canon disruption, he threw himself into a portal to get to you.

Your mic wasn't working, and your bio readings weren't available, and he could only assume you had switched off your watch.

Luckily, he had checked Tom's file before deleting it as you had requested.

He knew exactly where to go.

The sun had began to set on the horizon, engulfing the city in shades of orange that helped mask his movements across the innumerous rooftops. He refrained from using his web often, as the laser-like flashes would draw too much attention.

So he took it to jumping and clawing his way up the steep walls of the building opposite to where he lived on all fours, already being able to pick up some interference coming from your mic.

You were close.

"... you want me to leave."

Miguel reached the metal railing of an emergency exit, and balanced himself on it, feeling his heart stammering against his chest.

"You're so good at that, so go ahead."

From there, he was able to spot you in his apartments, near a window. He caugjt a glimpse of Tom and immediately decided he hated him.

He was scowling deeply at you, arms crossed, and words sharp as knives.

How dare he?

His claws were digging into the railing, and Miguel felt droplets of venom spill from his fangs.

This Tom individual wasn't even attractive to begin with, so he figured your previous attraction to him had to based on something else.

"You hurt me! You cannot do this and expect me to pretend nothing happened."

Clearly not based on personality.

Your voice was so low, Miguel was barely able to make it through the mic. "Tom... it was also hard for me..."

Miguel was visibly seething at this pint, wishing he could just drag you out of there. You deserved better than someome who didn't bother listening to you.

"Please leave."

There was a long pause and Miguel held his breath, not wanting to miss out on your reply.

"Don't do this..." you whispered, and he could hear the sadness in your words.

It was itching him to put an end to it.

But...

Deep down, Miguel knew you needed this. Closure. Even if things didn't go as you had hoped, you had tried your best to remedy this situation.

His heart hadn't wanted you to go visit Tom, but his mind spoke differently. He had to let you go to him, to have you as his.

A double-edged sword.

"You left me for months. Ignored me for months. You don't get to do this without a decent explanation," the idiot went on, further angering Miguel. "And since you don't want to tell me the truth, I want you gone."

This time, you cleared your throat and stormed out of the room, not exchanging another word.

Miguel considered dealing with Tom in his own way, but you came first.

He plunged from the rooftop and into a deserted alley, pacing quickly to meet you as you exited through the door, zipping up the hoodie that hid your suit underneath.

Miguel called after you, but you didn't turn to face him.

"I don't want to talk, Miguel."

Not wanting to be spotted by some passer-by, he urged you to walk into another alley.

"I heard some of it," he said softly once you were both out of sight.

You pressed your back against the wall, looking absolutely defeated. It was almost criminal that someone like you had to ever feel this way.

"You did what you could," he went on, placing one hand on your shoulder. "Maybe one day he'll understand."

Miguel didn't want him to be near you ever again, but he had to comfort you somehow.

You lowered your gaze and fixed it on a small puddle of water at your feet. "I deserve this."

"You do not."

"I don't want your pity."

He shook his head. "You won't have it."

In fact, he was willing to give you his heart if you'd take it. But he wouldn't dare say that out loud. Not in this moment.

He waited for your to make a move, but you remained quiet.

"Let's go back to Nueva York," he suggested, placing one hand on your shoulder.

You sobbed softly, and he saw a couple of teardrops drip from your face.

He just couldn't bear seeing you like this, so he took a step closer and you quickly wrapped your arms around him.

"Thank you... thank you, thank you..." you kept on repeating in between sniffles.

He held you tightly in absolute adoration and devotion. "I'm here for you."

"You're a great friend, Miguel..."

Friend.

That word made his heart sink violently.

"Just as a friend?"

There it was... his obsession for you creeping in.

You pulled away from his grip, teary eyes narrowing at him. "Oh... with benefits?"

That was somehow even worse.

Your face twisted into something else as you patted your face dry. "What do you want from me, Miguel?"

Anything.

Everything.

"Anything you're willing to give me," he said truthfully.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so straightforward, but he was merely answering your question. He didn't want to lie, and didn't want to go back to having to hide how he truly felt.

"I don't know if I can give you much more than this."

Your words lingered in the air after hitting him hard and he felt as though his body had been plunged into freezing water.

"Why?"

Your gaze wavered and you began chewing your lip. "Because I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious..."

Miguel straightened to his full height. "Anything you can give me... I'll take it."

He sounded desperate, and deep down he knew that it was probably working against him. Being intimate with you only could only satisfy him for so long if nothing was to come of it.

As much as his body yearned for you touch, his heart was seeking something that wasn’t skin-deep.

"Can I ask for something?"

Anything.

Everything.

He would give it all to you.

You cleared your throat. "I need time."

He could definitely work with that.

However...

"Do you... like being with me?" Miguel carefully asked. "And I'm not talking about being with me like earlier today." Your fluttering orgasm was proof enough.

Your eyes widened and he could tell you had not expected his bluntness. "Of course I do... I... just need time."

He pressed his lips together into a fine line. In truth, he didn't want to be just friends with you. He didn't crave that level of human connection. He needed much more than that from you.

"You only want me as a friend."

It wasn’t a question, and it sounded more like an accusation.

Was he being fair with you? Was he being fair with himself? These questions kept on looping inside his head, but his emotions had a stronger hold on him.

"I trust you," you said in a whisper. "I don't trust people easily."

That did ease some of the uneasiness within him, but he still wanted more. The grip of his obsession for you was tightening around him viciously, and it was getting harder for him to keep it at bay.

"Maybe I want more than that."

"Miguel..."

He leaned in, bending his head just enough for his lips to almost meet yours, searching for the comfort of your warmth.

He could feel you slipping through his fingers again.

You turned your head lightly and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek instead.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the dreadful feeling that you were parting from him suddenly overcame him.

"Maybe you should go back..." you said after parting from him. "I'll stay here for a little while..."

"Because of Tom?" he could feel the poison dripping from his words.

You shook your head vehemently. "Because of me."

Part 7

Masterlist

[evielmostdefinitely]

Your writing is insanely good!! I desperately need more of jealous/possessive young!snow making it clear to reader that she’s his and only his. bc “If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” floored me

jealousy, jealousy |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, coriolanus is jealous. briefly mentions jealous girl so tagging it here for those to read.

contains: dark, possessive, jealous coriolanus. established relationship. slight manipulation (it's coriolanus).

You were being polite, he knew that. These things were boring and you were simply finding a way to keep yourself occupied, the rational side of Coriolanus told himself that as he watched you from across the room. 

Vulcan was simply a friend, the two of you had gone to Academy together, all through primary and secondary schooling. His family was on the council, which meant your schooling would have been together. Coriolanus didn’t despise him, tolerated him, truly. He thought he was respectable and well mannered, and gave lots of funds to his cause. 

Why did he have to touch your arm like that?

Corio’s grip was so tight on his glass he was sure it would shatter between his hands, cut his palms, slice the skin and trail blood all over the white, marble floors. He had half a mind to do it, maybe that would pull your attention back to him. Have you by him doting and fussing over him, cleaning the glass out of his wounds, bandaging him up because he trusted no one but you. 

Your laugh was crystal, trilling through the air straight to his own heart. How bitter it made him that he wasn’t the one making you laugh. 

Instead, you were laughing with your school friends, Vulcan the center of your attention, entertaining you. 

“Pardon me,” Coriolanus nodded to Dr. Gaul and the others, passing his glass to an Avox. “I must go see the Mayor.” He bowed out politely, always poised, even when his belly was burning with jealous rage. 

He bypassed the Mayor, heading for you instead. “Oh,” Your friend saw you before he did. “President Snow.” She smiled, nudging you gently. 

You turned, and for a moment, Corio’s jealousy was wiped away. Your dazzling smile, eyes lighting at the sight of him. It made his own heart flutter. “Darling,” You greeted, reaching your hand out for him. “Are you finished?” 

Coriolanus could tell the champagne had taken its toll on you, loosening you more than he would have necessarily liked. He chose not to mention it, taking your hand politely, pulling you to him gently. “For now, I just have a break.” Corio muttered, eying the man in question, Vulcan, who had taken a step back. 

“Vully,” You grinned, your gaze leaving him. Corio bristled at the loss of your attention, even more at the nickname. How dare you? “You must tell Coriolanus the story. He’ll find it so amusing.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he has his own that would rival mine. He mentored the games with Lucy Gray.” Vulcan said politely. 

“No, you must tell the story.” You insisted with a grin. “Corio, Vulcan was in the games after yours, and he had to mentor the feral child from District Ten-” 

“-I hate to interrupt.” Coriolanus gritted, teeth bared in a tight smile he tried to pass off as genuine. “But I need you for a moment.” He looked down at you, hand wrapping around your bicep firmly. 

You frowned, lower lip jutting just slightly. “Oh,” You deflated. Coriolanus was sure he might kill the man in front of him, who still looked at you with the watchfulness of a hawk- a predator. How you were missing this, Corio wasn’t sure, but he’d protect you from it. 

“Excuse us. We’ll be right back.” You smiled softly at your friends, lifting the train of your dress, stepping with Coriolanus. 

“Where are we going?” You frowned, clutching his arm to steady yourself, walking through the doors. “Who are we meeting?” 

“You’re drunk.” Coriolanus hissed, jaw clenched in fury. 

You frowned, looking up at him carefully. “I’m not drunk.” You protested. “I only had two glasses-” 

Corio scoffed, his hand tightening around your arm. “Two? Were they spiked then?” His eyes narrowed at the thought, cutting down to you. “Did you get them yourself or did he get them for you?” 

“Did who get them? Corio, please,” You pulled back on his grasp with a whine. “You’re hurting me.” 

Corio loosened his grip, pulling you into an empty hallway. “Did he give you those drinks? What have I told you about taking anything from people? They want to hurt us, hurt me, and they know that if they go for you-” 

“Coriolanus,” You snapped, cutting off his erratic ramblings. “Please, I-I did not take a drink from anyone. I got it from my private bottle, poured it myself.” 

Corio’s chest still heaved, the burning wildfire coursing through his veins. He felt primal need, furious anger that raged through him in a way he hadn’t felt since his days with Lucy Gray. When he was so insecure, so unsure- when he attacked the man at her show, beat him on the stage for touching her. That seemed tame compared to what he wanted to do for you- what he had done for you. 

“What’s the matter, my love?” You hummed, cupping his cheek gently. “Why are you upset? Is it the Heavensbees, I told you my father said he’d speak to them-” 

“-No, it’s not-” Coriolanus huffed, pulling away, hand rubbing down his face in exasperation. He tried to keep from shouting at you, always feeling sick after. He took a breath, composing himself. 

“Were you talking about Vulcan?” You asked, looking up at him, even as he avoided your gaze. “You think Vulcan would poison me?” 

“Maybe not poison but drug you.” Coriolanus sneered at the mention of his name. “Get you unconscious and take advantage of you. The way he was all over you, you can’t say I’m far off.” 

Your mouth rounded in clarity, biting back a smile. Coriolanus was jealous. Positively green with envy- well, more red, with the flush creeping up his neck.

“Corio,” You hummed, holding his hand in yours, purposefully pressing the band of your ring into his skin. “Vulcan is just a friend. We’ve grown up together.” 

“I’m not sure he knows that.” Corio spat, squeezing your hand back. “Entertaining you like that. Flirting.” He scoffed in disgust. “Down right inappropriate doing that with a married woman.” 

“He wasn’t flirting.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh?” Coriolanus countered in challenge, brows raised in feigned amusement. “He was just touching you then for… what? Friendliness?” 

You blushed under his gaze, Corio towering over you, stepping towards you until you were pinned to the wallpaper, his icy gaze holding you there. 

“If I recall, my beloved, you were quite upset when a friend of mine touched my arm. Nearly clawed her eyes out, causing a scene until I had to drag you out of the library because you were so upset.” Corio’s voice was dark, rasping with that gruff tone that had you throbbing, tummy flipping with rushing heat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

“That-That was different.” You stuttered, avoiding his gaze. 

Corio’s finger hooked under your jaw, pulling your eyes back to him. “Was it?” He tilted his head to the side, a predatory look in his eyes. You wanted to drop to your knees right there. “So the rules don’t apply to you?” 

“Corio, I-I wasn’t purposefully trying to upset you.” You huffed in exaspiration. You really weren’t, you didn’t even know that it had upset him so greatly. 

“Neither was I, but that didn’t stop you from being furious with Clemensia, did it?” Coriolanus lifted a brow, head tilting in challenge. 

Your nose scrunched at the mention of her name, lips twisted in disgust. “No,” You grumbled, looking away from his eyes. “Corio, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know it upset you. I thought it was innocent, truly. Vulcan is just a friend. You know my heart belongs to you only.” 

“It might have been innocent for you, but I don’t trust him.” Coriolanus gritted, pressing you against the wall. “I want you to be careful, my love. You know the dangers of the world. We never know who’s conspiring against us.” 

“I know, Corio.” You whispered softly, eyes rounding so sweetly up at him. “I’ll be careful. I’m sorry.” 

Corio’s thumb brushed over your cheek softly, smiling at you- your heart skipped with joy. “You’re mine. You know that?” 

“Of course,” You hummed sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone but yours.” 

Those words, the look in your eye, it drove Coriolanus right over the edge. Hands cradled around your jaw, he kissed you with fever, body pressing right up to your own. His hands roamed over the silk material of your dress, squeezing, grabbing anything he could. 

You squealed with delight when he pushed you into your shared bedroom, dragging you down the halls of the Capitol mansion until he reached your private wing. He practically pounced on you, holding you so close to his own skin. Sucking deep brusises into your jaw and neck, each mark a new claim- mine, mine, mine. 

He’d make a call later, wire funds to someone who would ensure that Vulcan was dealt with. You’d hear of the news and run to him, rambling and upset about how he was right, how you didn’t know how you missed it. He’d soothe you, remind you that’s why he was here for you- to look out for you. Your father would approve even more so, another round of donations poured right into his funds, helping build his legacy. For now, Coriolanus was content between your legs, feeling you underneath him- the way you whined, squirmed, clawed at him. How you babbled his name over and over- begged for him, and for him only. His perfect girl, for no one else.