#work enough to be able to put anything aside. at all

[tklpilled]

ship in a bottle

with all the time idia spends on his computer, it should come as no surprise that he has plenty of things on there that he’d…rather not be shared. he has folders of (totally legally) downloaded animes, his collection both impressive and highly embarrassing. he even has them nicely organised, into categories like “super underrated, binge when sad. or when happy”, and “terrible ending, can’t have shit in twisted wonderland”. he’s had to tinker with the storage a few times to make it all fit while still running smoothly.

then, of course, his games, dating sims and gachas and horror on occasion. he’s played just about every game anyone’s ever heard of, and then some.

even so, all of that isn’t even close to the worst on there. plenty of people watch anime and play those types of games, after all, and the fact that he likes them isn’t any kind of secret. he doesn’t have anything bad on there, exactly, just things that he’d rather die a slow and agonising death than let anyone else see.

like that one thing—

“idia-san.” azul’s voice breaks him from his trance. idia snaps his head up, blinking a couple times. the board sits on the table, displaying a half-finished word game. “it’s your turn.”

“o-oh, yeah.” idia scans the board in search of azul’s most recent play. he has some odd letters, but he’ll probably be able to make it work—

he freezes.

of course that’s the word azul put down.

he stares at it for a moment too long, hoping that maybe he’d misread it, but the letters don’t change. five of the tiles, in a neat row. does azul know? no, he can’t. it’s just a coincidence. it has to be.

azul speaks up. “idia-san?” he asks again, tilting his head, expression laced with concern. “are you alright? you seem rather flushed.”

“fine!” idia chokes out, squeakier than he’d like. he grabs some letters from his tile rack, spelling out jukebox using previously placed u and o tiles. he doesn’t think azul believes him; hell, not a person in the world would believe such a blatant lie. still, the topic is dropped and the game continues.

—

“you should tell him, nii-san!” ortho encourages, bouncing on his feet. “you want to, so go for it!”

idia buries his face in his arms, his normally freezing cold room feeling way warmer than usual. “i can't! there's no way he'll ever think i'm cool!”

he regrets even telling ortho about his problem. he should have seen this coming. doesn't ortho get it? azul is basically idia's only friend. sevens, he'd rather confess his stupid crush on azul over this, and he can’t begin to express how badly he doesn’t want to do that. literally anything but this.

“azul ashengrotto-san isn’t the type of person to judge his friends,” says ortho. “plus, his affection levels towards you are higher than usual.”

“th-that’s the problem!” idia squeaks. “being friends with him is already, like, a secret route! if he finds out, it's totally game over for me!”

azul is nice enough, but idia is still nothing short of terrified of what his reaction would be. maybe he'd distance himself, stop coming to club meetings or quit entirely. avoid idia at every chance. tell the whole school what a fucking weirdo the ignihyde housewarden is.

(and yet at the same time, idia can't stop imagining, fantasising about the other possibility. that azul would just laugh, reassure him in his own azul-like way, move closer and closer until his hands are on idia's waist, nimble fingers instantly drawn to all of his most sensitive spots. the mere idea, however unrealistic, fills his stomach with butterflies. he can't think about it too long before he feels likes he's about to explode.)

ortho sighs. “it’s worth considering, at least.”

idia mumbles into his sleeves, “yeah, whatever.”

he’s not going to consider it for a second.

—

idia can't get the conversation out of his head. he can't really tell azul about it, can he? no. no way. out of the question, one hundred percent. possible reaction aside, there’s no way idia would even be able to say it.

azul clears his throat and idia snaps his head up.

“apologies,” he says, straightening his glasses. “there was a bit of a tickle in my throat, you see.”

great. of course that’s the phrasing he uses. idia nods, trying his best to act casual, even though the word makes him so panicky and now he can’t stop thinking about it. the way azul says it, how easily it falls from his mouth. he’s obsessed. he hates it.

there's silence in the empty room as azul moves his piece a few spaces. then, as idia is trying to figure out his next move, azul speaks.

“you're blushing again.”

huh?! well, his face does feel rather warm. his eyes widen and he stammers, pulling his hood over his head to hide the pastel pink tips of his hair. ugh. humiliating.

“um, s-sorry. it’s my turn, right—?”

“tell me,” interrupts azul, tilting his head. idia glances over at him, but doesn’t quite look up. “why do you get so flustered when i mention tickling?”

fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck.

it’s idia’s own fault, really. he’s the idiot for thinking azul hadn’t noticed. he was just so desperate, hoping that his most well-guarded secret would stay a secret—from the boy he likes, especially. he must have gotten careless at some point.

he realises azul is still watching him. idia coughs weakly, looking anywhere else. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about! it’s def just some sort of bug, i’m totally fine…!” he’s talking too fast, too high pitched. it’s not a believable excuse at all.

there’s something dancing in azul's eyes; amusement? excitement? “is that so? then, please,” he gestures towards idia, “explain why your face has gone so red.”

“eh?!” idia hides his face with his hands, peeking out between his fingers after a moment. “j-just…drop it, please…”

and, to his disappointment, azul listens.

—

at least, in a way. he doesn’t mention it outright, but every interaction with him from then on is a constant reminder to idia that he knows (some of it, at least), and he’s not above using it against him.

azul begins to bring up the word as casually but as often as he can, and sevens, why are there so many damn phrases that use it? he jabs idia’s side when he spaces out, squeezes his knee under the table, pinches at his waist when he walks past. each touch is brief, and it only leaves idia craving more.

he can’t take it.

“stop teasing me!” he gets the courage to blurt out over a game of chess one day. he can already feel the warmth creeping under his skin.

azul stares for a moment, and in that instant idia has a sudden feeling of impending doom.

and then azul laughs.

he doubles over, pushing the board away from him as he holds a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound. he laughs like idia’s just told him some sort of joke, and idia wants to be annoyed by it, but the sight is just too cute. screw his stupid feelings.

when azul is done laughing, he looks back up at idia. “i'm surprised,” he admits. “i didn't think you'd say anything this soon.”

idia crosses his arms, glaring. his face could easily be on fire and he wouldn't know the difference. he can't say anything. he doesn't know what to say.

azul straightens the frames of his glasses, still smiling. “so, idia-san,” he starts, “what do you want?”

he must be dreaming. idia feels like he’s going to throw up, in some sort of excited way. is this not what he’s been wanting? what he’s been thinking about for ages?

this can't be real.

it takes a while to find his voice. “please,” he whispers. “i want you to t-tickle me.”

and azul…

…stays silent.

idia’s words linger in the air, neither of them moving an inch. idia stares a hole into the table, his hands trembling as he clenches them.

azul isn’t saying anything. he’s not doing anything. shit, he’s never going to want to talk to idia again, he thinks idia is some sort of freak—

idia stands up suddenly, preparing to run, but azul’s hand grabs his wrist before he can move. idia, finally, locks eyes with him.

“okay,” azul says, smiling so genuinely in a way idia has never seen before. “i'll tickle you.”

and idia stops thinking altogether.

azul guides him to the ground, lays him on the floor of the classroom and hovers over him, practically straddling him. their position in the end would surely give anyone who walked in the wrong idea; but then again, maybe that assumption wouldn't be too far off.

“okay?” azul asks once they're settled, tilting his head. he's waiting for idia's go-ahead—as if he would say no.

idia can't find the words in him, so he merely nods.

he flinches almost violently when azul's fingers meet his stomach, both because his hands are cold and he knows what's coming. he gasps in a breath of air, but it doesn't matter. the moment nails begin to drag across his skin, he falls apart. he couldn't keep from laughing if he tried.

“az-azuhul-shi! wait, plehease, please…!” he doesn't even know what he's begging for. he doesn't want it to stop, but he doesn't think he could handle any more.

azul giggles, a light sound that barely carries over the sound of idia's desperation. “please? is this not what you've been waiting for? make up your mind.”

idia can't remember ever laughing this hard. he doesn't even remember the last time he was properly tickled, if it ever happened at all. he didn't know his body could even be this sensitive; it's overwhelming, any attempt at a coherent thought being instantly washed away.

yet at the same time, it's euphoric. he can't deny that he loves this, even as azul manages to find the spots that make him practically scream. it's such a relief that all the classrooms are soundproofed.

“please,” he begs, “dohon’t stohohop!”

[databent]

[pained wailing emoji]

[scattered-winter]

I really wish my mom would just fucking. respect the fact that I have no desire to be religious and that I don't know if I ever will be because it feels like she's subtly trying to convince me to come back and idk. I just kinda wish she'd respect the fact that I don't want to have anything to do with it

[chocogoldie]

Love Slip

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contains: established relationship, a bit suggestive at one point

short continuation of Nip Slip 18+

It's been a while since the two of you started dating. Approximately three months, two days and forty-three minutes. But who's keeping count?

During your time together, you've come to learn many things about the blond ticking time bomb:

One, he's a very organized and clean guy. He has to-do lists separated into categories in his phones' notepad app, a strict schedule he follows everyday to stay in shape — not that he needs it, but getting to brag about being able to lift you up certainly strokes his ego — and an extremely neat room that stays neat no matter what. He brushes his teeth three times a day, eats healthy meals, has a proper skincare routine and smells of sweet caramel even when he's dripping with sweat coming back from the gym or from an intense training session with your classmates. ln short, his hygiene is top notch.

Two, he's a little bit of a gym freak. Not that you'd ever mind, you even find it hot most of the time, but sometimes he gets provoked by his other gym buddies, mainly Kirishima and Kaminari, to try out all sorts of exercises with you on his back. Push-ups, squats, even yoga poses, literally anything they can think of just to see if it'd work. You've fallen on your ass more than he'd like, or care, to admit. Not because he wasn't strong, no, but because you cannot concentrate on holding onto him for the life of you, always getting distracted by the way his muscles flex and how he grunts from exertion. It's a sight for sore eyes, strands of hair sticking to his forehead while his usually spiky hair dampens and falls down beautifully, framing his face. It reminds you of your first night together, so of course you wouldn't be able to pay attention to anything else. You don't mention how incredibly good he looks in his compression shirts. Yes, he bought multiple after you oggled him up and hinted at loving the way they fit muscly men.

And last but not least, he's clingier than anyone you've ever met which is a stark, and quite frankly adorable, contrast to his sharp appearance. You're working on some assignments? He's bringing you food and making himself comfortable on your bed while putting on a weird dating show on the TV, occasionally checking up on you to remind you to take breaks. You're going for a quick grocery run? He doesn't waste a second to throw on whatever clothes he can find and join you, walking around the store with the shopping cart and imagining you two as a married couple well into your marriage shopping for your little family. You're taking a bath? Scooch over, he's helping you wash your hair and back. You're feeling sad? He's bringing your favorite ice cream and listening to you vent while gently running his hands over your face, back, thighs, arms, anywhere to soothe you. He cradles your face when your sobbing gets louder, pressing his forehead against yours to help ground you into reality, to snap yourself out of your worries by murmuring “I'm here, baby,” or “I got you”. All in all, he's a big softie for you.

He often shows his affection through his actions, but sometimes when the two of you are alone and in the silence of your bedrooms, he pushes his embarrassment aside and spills his heart out. He vents about hero work, about how he doesn't think he's good enough, or rather, nice enough to be a hero, always ending up berating people to hide his true intentions and words. It's something he's always struggled with, but he's been working on it constantly with you, his friends, and in therapy. He tells you everything about what happened during his time in highschool, how the man literally died for a minute, and how much that impacted his life onwards. You listen intently and comfort him through it, crushing him into a tight embrace to remind him you're there for him as well and that you'd do anything to make him happy. He tells you that your presence is enough.

He whispers soft “I love you”'s each night before you two drift off to sleep, letting his hand rest on the small of your back underneath your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his to be able to sleep. The warmth your body provides gets rid of his reoccurring nightmares and allows him to sleep soundly throughout the night with you by his side. And he very quickly realizes he never wants to lose you. Ever.

Because he might've slipped into having a little crush on you, but he willingly chose to fall in love with you.

© chocogoldie 2024. do not translate, copy, or repost.

a/n: a little smth i came up with while waiting for the poll to finish :3 hope u enjoyed it! not proofread

[allurilove]

Camp Counselor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere best friend x fem reader, you guys are both camp counselors, bimbo reader, protective and obsessed behavior, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, manipulation, sort of fwb, he's whipped for you.

*Finally a yandere with a name! He goes by "Pres" or "your best friend." I should be working on other stuff soon, but I can't focus for some reason. LOL! Maybe yandere husband part four next, or the superhero. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your best friend convinces you to go to this remote camp deep into the woods with him. He marketed it as a fun paid getaway, but he was ready to taint your innocence.

You’re the exact person he would go for, and the one he’s been wanting to fuck. He wouldn’t dare to toss you aside like all the other women he’s been with. No, he wants you forever. You're his.

Being a camp counselor with your friend was hard. He had the hots for you, and that was pretty clear. Your best friend was named after the late famous singer Elvis Presley. His parents went absolutely crazy for the rock and roll musician, so much so that they named their son “Presley.” But he went by “Pres,” wanting nothing to do with the man he doesn’t even like.

Pres was a hot-headed and flirtatious nineteen-year-old who was only nice to you. He was a bit troubled and rough around the edges, smoking pot and drinking beer whenever he could. He got into a lot of fights, and most of them were because of you.

You were sweet, bubbly, and innocent. You had a tight, round ass that drove him wild, your hair always blowing in the wind, and your mini clothes accentuated your body perfectly. He bought you anything you wanted and did whatever you asked. Despite his tough exterior, he was a mushy, gushy guy on the inside.

He was your closest childhood friend, always coming to your house for years without a single break. Pres told you about the job, shoving the flyer in your face, and he raved about the opportunity. Money, sleeping in cabins, and taking care of kids—it all seemed pretty easy. It also meant he could have you all to himself for three whole months!

The day before the kids arrived for the summer, the counselors had one last meeting. You were able to check out the cabins, rest up for the night, and be well-rested for the morning. That was until your friend snuck out of his cabin and came to yours.

He tiptoed quietly, clinging to the shadows as he looked around to see if his supervisors were nearby. Slowly, he inched closer to your window. Your friend had told you to keep it unlocked, so he hoped you had listened. He let out a small grunt as he used his biceps to lift the window, which slid up smoothly.

“Oh would you look at that?” He muses, pushing his body though. He eyed you up and down, noticing how you were already in your pink silk nightgown. “Now that’s the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

All of the boring and long hikes to see a couple of mountains meant nothing in comparison to this. Seeing you in your room with lit candles all around, your legs apart, and your supple breasts covered by thin fabric was captivating. His feet found footing on your carpet as he approached closer to your sleeping form. That night, he slept right by your side, not wanting to leave you for a single moment.

You both teetered on the line between just being friends and being lovers. He would try to convince you to make out with him. You were just his type: ditzy, pretty, and downright adorable. He could show you a good time if you let him. His hands would rest on your hips, lovingly rubbing your sides up and down, occasionally slipping lower to your ass.

Presley convinced the kids assigned to you to hang out with his group, all so he could pull you into the woods and put on a cute display. He showered you with little kisses on your neck, his deep, rumbling voice cooing swoon-worthy words, and his brown eyes held so much warmth and affection. It was enough to convince you to get down onto your knees, his cock already pulled out of his tan shorts.

You’re a hot babe. Even hotter with your lips around the head of his cock. It must've been your first time, or you were just struggling with his length. Pres guided your head up and down, and with a loud grunt he came inside your mouth. He would tell you that you did amazing, help you wipe your mouth clean, and he’ll return the favor.

He doesn't understand what personal space even means. Your bed was his, and his was always open for you and only you. Once he got his rowdy kids to settle down in their bunk beds, was the moment he had you trapped outside, his fingers soaking in your cunt. He had his hand around your mouth, his knee pushing your legs apart, and his fingers kept pressing against the spot that had your head spinning.

No matter what he does, you still think you guys are just friends. Even if that word does irk him, he'll use it to his advantage. Showering with him was something friends do, so you can’t really say no. Him helping you clean every crevice of your body was just him being nice. Him choosing specific outfits that he wants to see you in was only because he was a 'fashionista.' He barely gave you any time to argue back when he stuffed your body into the swimsuit in the dead of night.

Pres tried his hardest to woo you. On lake day, he would pull off his shirt, muscles on display, and jump into the water. When he came up to the surface, his hair glistening in the light and his body dripping wet, he would try to catch a fish—doing manly things to show off. If that didn’t work, he would walk inside with you to the grand hall, where he’d make friendship bracelets with you. You were happy to do simple things like that, and he’d even make flower crowns with you.

The yandere was a competitive and athletic man. He would win at all of the games—tug-of-war, rock climbing, and don’t even mention any sort of crossword puzzle near him. All of his winnings would go to you. The chocolate gold coins from See's Candies were yours, the tiny trophy he got for catching the most fish was in your hands before you could blink, and the whittled statue of a moose from capturing the prettiest pictures was promptly put into your bag.

He had his softer moments: carrying your suitcases for you and putting them into the shuttle when camp ended, wrapping his jacket around you when you shivered, and letting you have the window seat because you liked to sightsee. He would remember your favorite snacks (he forced himself to like the same things) and offer his arm to be used as your pillow during the drive.

Right when he thought the relationship had progressed into something more, with your head resting on his shoulder, you said the words he didn’t want to hear: "You're the greatest best friend I have ever had."

Ah, shit. Seriously?

“Mhm, yeah, yeah,” he said unenthusiastically with a slight eye roll, and he gently patted your head. “Just go to sleep.”

[blueboybot]

A Lantern's Light

This time it isn't Batman, Superman or even Wonder Woman that has a secret child. Rather, it is none other than our resident Green Lantern, Hal Jordan.

Memory holds knowledge and within that knowledge holds power.

Maybe Star Sapphire and Green Lantern did manage to live a happy life before everything went to ruins.

When Danny unexpectedly gets saved by Hal they both stop, just looking at each other...

_____________

Danny should've been faster. He saw the fight, he knew how close they were and yet he didn't think to use one of his many ghost powers to get far away. Now he was about to be crushed by a giant piece of apartment building. It won't kill him but it was sure going to be a mess on the streets and that will bring more attention to him than he wants.

Before the giant piece of stone could do its job a green light encased it, not exactly like the ecto-green he saw with other ghost, and stopped it from making him the human pancake he was destined to be, green slightly poisonous syrup included. When the stone was put aside Danny was able to see the hero Green Lantern.

Now Danny has only ever seen the man on tv or far away while the other fights and even then he didn't pay him much interest. But now that he was here, now that he was so close to him Danny felt something. His core, his soul...it knew this man, it new Green Lantern.

"Hey kid you need to go this place isn't safe...for...you..."

__________

Hal is a lot of things.

A test pilot who worked for Ferris Aircraft.

A member of the Green Lantern Corps working with other Green lanterns and venturing out into parts of space that he thought was never possible for him.

A member of the Justice League where he fights alongside other heroes, taking down any evil that threatens the earth and making sure it is a safer place for its inhabitants.

But.

There was a time when he was blessed with a miracle and became a father to the cutest baby in the world. His baby boy that he took almost everywhere with him, playing with him and watching as those blue eyes lit up with enough joy to power a house.

Hal doesn't like to think about those memories now, they always came accompanied with the sound of thunder, rain, screaming and crying. He lost everything that day and he was sure he'd never see those eyes again.

So why...why were they looking back at him?

__________

Danny did not know what was happening to him right now and he was a bit scared. Him and Green Lantern have just been there staring at each other, not saying anything, just staring.

Green Lantern touched the down on the ground and very slowly started walking towards him. Danny couldn't find it in himself to move, he was paralysed and it wasn't completely with fear.

When he was close enough enough Green Lantern looked down at him, not in the arrogant way, almost as if he didn't realize how short Danny would be. Danny was in a bit of awe of how much bigger and more muscled the man looked up close, the way his masked eyes looked as if they almost glowed. Despite all of this Danny didn't feel any of the fear one should when a man this big corners you, rather, he felt safe.

Green Lantern reached out his hand to hold the side of Danny's face softly and he melted into the touch. This feeling of safe and comfort was almost too much, he hadn't this way in a long time, not since he had to run and leave everyone and everything he loved behind. He didn't even realize he was crying.

A loud boom shook the ground they were standing on and Green lantern turned around, it was all that was need to break whatever weird spell was on Danny. Using his invisiblity to stay out of sight he took off, using flight to fly far away from Green Lantern.

[ipseitydelrey]

your lips, my lips ☆ s. reid

ship sub!spencer reid x fem!reader

content/warnings smutty smut (mdni 18+), mutual masturbation, mommy kink, accidental voyeurism, he sounds like a slut you can’t blame yourself

word count 2.5k

summary after spencer returns home early from a case, you come back home after work to find him in an incredibly compromised position.

a/n ignore the accidental hiatus, but hi !! im probably not going to be able to post at all in may bc im going to be in europe for the entire month. i’m posting this before going in a cave so…enjoy this as a treat!

To put it briefly, Spencer was…awkward.

That’s not to discredit him, though. You can tell that he loves the team and you (especially you). Although he’s less awkward around people he trusts and has known for longer, he still can’t really speak up for what he wants.

And the poor boy is just so touch starved. It’s clear he’s practically clueless when it comes to other forms of intimacy aside from sympathetic hugs to friends or victims in a case. Hell, it even took a month since you started dating for Spencer to be comfortable huddling next to you on the couch; it took even longer for him to be fine with sharing the same bed.

You had barely done anything sexual yet. The closest you had probably gotten to something intimate like that with him was him involuntarily jutting his hips up into your ass when you were making out on the couch. You had hoped that he would continue to do that, especially with how you could feel his hardness pressing up against your core, but he got so flustered and started stammering out high-pitched apologies before moving away and retreating into the bathroom. You imagined that he probably took care of it, but knowing him, maybe he doesn’t jerk off.

You went with that assumption for a while since you — and especially him — hadn’t initiated anything potentially steamy. For him, makeout sessions were enough and although you wanted more, you were okay with indulging in him. You figured that with how touch starved he was, you should take it slow before moving on.

You got to leave work early, and you’re usually glad when that happens but today you’re especially happy because Spencer had just gotten back from a successful case a couple hours ago. When he landed, he immediately texted you, letting you know where he was. When you left your workplace, you had forgotten to text him that you’ll be home earlier than expected, but you’re sure that he wouldn’t mind.

After all, he’s probably just as excited to see you, if not more.

You don’t call out to him when you unlock and open the apartment door; he should hear that you’re home with the locking of the door and the tossing of the keys, as well as the rustle of your coat as you take it off and hang it up.

It’s quiet, but that isn’t really saying anything since it usually is. But you’d figured that he’d meet you at the doorway, which he didn’t.

Odd.

You’re just about to call out to him when you hear a peculiar and out-of-place sound: a moan.

Although it startles you a bit, you think that it was probably the neighbours; that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense consdiering it’s coming from inside the apartment, but it’s more believable than…

Then you hear another one, and this time you can finally pinpoint its location. It sounds like it’s coming from the bedroom. Spencer? It’s not impossible, but you had just figured that he wouldn’t be the type to pleasure himself, especially with those sorts of reactions.

You slowly make your way towards the room in question, seeing that the door is slightly ajar, leaving a sliver for you to peer in.

What you find is a heavenly sight: Spencer, fully unclothed, splayed across the bed with his length in his fist. His pace is slow, but it’s still enough for him to whimper and moan quite audibly. His other hand is gripping tightly onto the sheets as his head pushes back against a pillow.

It’s perverted, but you feel as if you can’t tear yourself away from watching. At this point, you start to wonder if he knows you’re here or if he even heard you come into the apartment. You struggle to keep quiet as your panties grow damp, and you end up biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning at the sight.

The sound of his fist moving up and down his leaking cock is lewd, his precum dribbling down and even slightly coating his hand.

“o-oh m-mommy—” Him saying that is your breaking point, and you push the door open and enter the room.

He finally notices you and he pulls the sheets he was just grasping onto for dear life up to cover his throbbing dick. You were expecting him to do that; although what he was just doing was insanely hot, he’s still shy, even around you.

He looks away from you, clearly embarrassed he was caught. “Uh, I was— I— ah…” he attempts to explain himself but it leads nowhere. “I-I’m sorry,” he whispers, sounding defeated.

“Why are you sorry?” It’s not a needed question; you know exactly why he thinks so. You move to sit on the edge of the bed as he moves away, still having the sheets pulled up to cover himself. He stammers, but no words come out. He’s so flustered and red in his cheeks, you fear he’s about to pop.

He squirms in his position slightly while a tiny noise that you can barely hear escapes from his lips. A noise of discomfort, you recognize quickly, but you’re not sure if it’s because you just caught him in a private moment or if it’s because his cock is starting to get achy from the lack of stimulation.

“Baby,” you say in a more serious tone, leaning into the notion of his fantasy of you as his mommy, “why are you sorry?”

You stare at him, though you wish he could return your gaze. “Y-You probably feel…uncomfortable b-because—”

Softly, you shush him, holding a finger up against his lips, and you smile. “I’m not uncomfortable,” you assure him.

“You’re not?” he asks, his words vibrating against your index.

You shake your head as you pull your finger away from his lips, instead moving to grab his chin with a soft grip. His cheeks squish against your fingers softly, making his lips look even more plush and kissable. You push your lips against his gently, though it’s obvious that he’s eager from the way he pushes against your mouth to chase the kiss.

The way he whines when you pull away from him is so cute, you feel as if you want to give in to his need to have you closer to him. But he can tell that you want to do something else to satisfy him, so Spencer quiets down. Your hand, however, remains firmly yet softly gripping his jaw.

You look down at the sheets covering his lower half, his erection not-so-subtlety poking the thin fabric, and you glance back up at him. “Do you want me to…” you trail off before looking down at his boner again.

In all honesty, it takes Spencer a good second or two before he gets what you meant by that offer. “U-uh, well, ah…” he stutters. You’re not exactly sure what he wants and frankly neither is he. Based on his previous experiences with intimacy, you decide to not give him a blowjob, or even a handjob.

You both sit there in silence; you can practically cut the tension in the room with a knife. As you think of what to do — since you don’t just want to ignore it, nor do you want to leave him unsatisfied and awkward — Spencer squirms uncomfortably, shifting ever so slightly. His thighs accidentally clench together, squeezing his erection under the blanket, causing him to whimper softly. He silently hopes that you didn’t catch that noise he made, but you did…and it gave you an idea; one that will satisfy both of your urges.

“Do you wanna keep going?” You ask. He would probably much rather do this himself, although you don’t know how he would feel if he were to masturbate right in front of you.

He hesitates for a second, but he does nod shyly. You notice how he’s not meeting your gaze with his own, avoiding eye contact almost entirely. Instead, he’s looking in the direction of your waist.

Without informing him, you stand up and your hands quickly find their way to the buttons on your pants undoing them. Spencer watches with an air of anticipation and slight anxiety as you pull your pants down, a bit hastily and it definitely shows just how eager you are at this moment. Your underwear is certainly damp with how much this situation has you turned on and he can see it clearly too. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression as he sees the wetness, whether he’s nervous or intrigued, until you see him lick his lips — a motion that he only does when he’s excited.

At last, you peel off your soaked panties, but you keep your eyes on his face, wanting to see his reaction at seeing you half-naked. Sure, he’s seen you in your bra and panties before, but that was never sexual and only when you were changing clothes in front of him. He’s always looked away, the gentleman that he is, but he couldn’t resist taking a peek or two at your near-unclothed state. Just like how now, where he can see your bare pussy, glistening and wet, he just can’t resist staring.

He doesn’t mind it; no, not at all. In fact, it’s just making him even more excited, to the point where he slightly pulls down the sheets that are covering his dick — not enough to actually show his arousal, but enough to clearly see his happy trail, which has you salivating.

You get back on the bed, not bothering to take your shirt off as well. You just want to get started already, but you think it would be better if you know he’s comfortable with this whole situation first.

“Is this okay?” you ask, alluding to your nakedness as your thighs are slightly spread, giving him a nice view of your cunt.

He swallows and nods feverishly as his gaze continues to bore into your pussy; all of his attention seems to be focused there, which amuses you.

Deciding to take the initiative, your hand makes its way towards your core. You dip the tips of your fingers in your wet folds, collecting some of the slick and bringing it up to your clit, where you start to gently rub it in small and slow circles.

You hear Spencer’s breath hitch as you do this. It’s like you’re subtly encouraging him to do the same thing and start masturbating again, which is exactly what you’re going for.

He ends up pulling the covers off his pelvis completely, allowing you to see his cock-filled hand. You bite your lip at the sight of him starting to slowly stroke his length again, although timidly, as if he’s being judged. You’re not doing that, of course; you wouldn’t dare judge him for doing something so pleasing in front of you.

He keeps avoiding your gaze so you lean forward as you continue to massage your clit gently and you bring your other hand to tilt his head up by his chin to look at you. The eye contact you both have now is both awkward yet erotic. You’re not really doing anything with each other, you’re just two people touching themselves in front of the other.

A couple minutes into this shared experience, Spencer is starting to get more confident and less self-conscious. His strokes are getting longer and faster, making him produce more noises from his throat; mostly small whimpers with the occasional moan but by god, those small moans just get you going. You end up quickening your pace too and you let yourself make tiny whines too.

Eventually, your fingers move from your clit and back down to your folds, where you insert a finger into your cunt. The sound that falls from your lips after you do so is more motivation for Spencer to speed up again. You thrust your finger in and out at the same pace as his hand and you’re sure you both are imagining something more intimate at this point.

You add a second finger and then later on a third and now, a few minutes later, you’re both moving in sync and moaning up a storm. His moans are louder though, but you don’t mind at all. They just give you more reason to speed up and keep going.

Nearing the end, you’re wondering who’s going to cum first. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Spencer did so before you since he’s been jerking off for longer than you have but with the way the pleasure is building up in your stomach, you’re not entirely sure anymore; your mind is just focused on the intense pleasure and nothing else.

“O-oh god…” you hear him whine. Now you know who is going to finish first.

“You gonna cum, baby?” It takes you some effort to ask that question, especially since for the past ten or so minutes, you’ve just been touching yourselves without even talking.

“Mhm,” he hums in response as he nods. His hand is going at such a quick pace that you can clearly hear how his precum-coated palm is moving up and down his cock. “S’much, I…”

“It’s okay, honey,” you stammer out. Then, in your pleasure-fueled haze, an idea forms in your head. “You can cum. Cum for mommy~”

The use of that nickname for you really gets him going and he can no longer hold himself back. “M-mommy!” he cries out with a gasp for air as cum spurts out of the tip of his cock. He lets his head hang back and his eyelids flutter as his orgasm hits him and it’s beautiful for you to watch. It only motivates you to speed up even more, wanting to reach your peak as fast as possible. You probably shouldn’t rush it to savor the moment but in this case, rushing is fine to you.

After his intense orgasm, Spencer watches with bated breath as you cum. Your hips rock forward, practically riding your own fingers while your back arches and your murmurs grow incoherent. If he wasn’t tired, Spencer is pretty sure that he would be turned on again immediately just from watching you finger yourself. He is almost positive that you’re thinking of riding him instead of your fingers, and he would be correct in that assessment.

The pleasure slowly dissipates until you’re left with the incredibly awkward feeling of having just jerked off in front of your boyfriend. Both of you aren’t really sure what to say or what to do considering this was technically your first shared sexual experience since you had started dating.

“Um—” “So—” you both say at the same time. You don’t know how to move forward in a gracious manner, so you shyly get off the bed and put your underwear and pants back on. He still sits in the bedsheets, which are slightly damp from the sweat accumulated from the experience.

He moves towards the edge of the bed — towards you — and sits up straight, trying not to feel embarrassed that he’s still naked. And even though he felt uncomfortable about being touched while nude prior, he plants his lips on yours.

You weren’t expecting this but it’s a welcome surprise, as you chase his kiss with all the energy you have left; which isn’t a lot, but is enough. He breaks from the kiss, but leaves his forehead against yours as he looks at you like a dog.

“Thank you, mommy.”

hopefully it wasn’t that bad <3 join the taglist

[0cta9on]

Train Ride to Heaven

length: +3k words

Genre: Smut

NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

(Author's Note: The winner of the first smut poll! I wrote this entire thing in 1.5 sittings, so it's very rough and unedited. Nevertheless, hope you horny sickos enjoy it <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

A weary sigh leaves your lips as you rest the back of your head against the trembling glass of the subway. Eight years of college, even more years of brown-nosing just for a sliver of a chance at a promotion, hours of sleep lost from nights working overtime, and where did it land you? A thankless office job that considers you more of a number than a living, breathing human being. After all that, you get to go home to a loveless marriage with a woman you know for a fact is cheating on you with her personal trainer, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. Hooray for you.

You feel the subway slowly creep to a stop. A few more of those and you’ll finally be able to sleep and pretend like you're dead for a couple hours before doing it all over again. A lone girl, at least 18, walks into the car and takes a seat directly across from you - an odd move considering the entire car is completely empty aside from you. You try to ignore her, opting to get some shut-eye before you get to your stop, but you can’t deny the shift in the atmosphere from her presence. She’s a pretty young girl, all alone at this time of night. You could do anything to her and no one would even know. You shake your head at the thought. No good can come from a perverted old man like yourself.

“Psst…”

Although, there’s no fault in thinking like that if it stays in your mind. A cute girl like her could easily be taken advantage of. In fact, she’s lucky that you’re here instead of an actual sicko that would try to put their hands all over her.

“Psst… Ahjussi…”

This shitty marriage has got you all pent up. Not like you would have any energy left in you, especially after a day like this. Lucky you. Maybe if you pray hard enough, whatever god is up there will pity you and summon a woman that’ll throw themselves at you. If only life were that easy.

“Ahjussi!”

Your eyes shoot open from the sudden noise. The girl sitting across from you giggles to herself as she smiles at you. It isn’t immediately obvious due to her innocent features, but you can tell that she’s hiding something behind that smile. Something sinister, even. How exciting.

“What?” You ask. Her sly smile only grows as she subtly raises her skirt. Little by little, she reveals the supple flesh of her thighs, firm and plump. You know in the back of your mind that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be exposing herself to an old man like this, but the second you see that little bit of white cotton in between her legs, all common sense flies out the window. Suddenly, she lowers her skirt, much to your disappointment. Your emotions must have been obvious as she cackles sweetly, pointing at your face. Embarrassed, you lean back and shut your eyes, hoping she’ll leave you alone for the duration of the ride.

“Ahjussi~” she teases in a sing-songy voice. “Open your eyes~” Like a fool, you follow her orders without a second thought. This time, however, the reward is greater than you could have ever imagined. Her white cotton panties are there in full view for no one else but yourself, drawing you in like a siren. The girl bites her lip as she traces circles around her crotch, more for you rather than herself. Your cock begins to strain in your pants, begging to be set free.

“Come here,” she says, beckoning you with a single finger. You quickly do as she says and sit next to her. Up close, you can see just how deceivingly innocent she is with her big, round eyes and her thick, pouty lips. Anyone would walk by her and assume she’s a classy and upstanding student, not a little slut teasing random old men in a subway (Not that you mind).

“My name is Hanni, what’s your name?” She asks, gripping the sleeve of your blazer while she plays with herself under her skirt.

“I-I, u-um, m-my name is-”

She brings a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Actually, I don’t really care, I’m just gonna call you daddy,” Hanni giggles. You force yourself to take a deep breath in an attempt to remain composed, but inside, you’re cheering like an addicted gambler finally hitting that sweet, sweet jackpot.

“So Daddy, what are you doing riding the train home this late at night?” The lilt she puts on that word is enough to drive you insane, but you try to hold back, not wanting to scare her off if you appear too eager.

“Uh, y’know, just getting home after a long day of work. Boring office job and all that. Nothing you would find any interest in,’ you sigh. Hanni pouts, looking at you with a sympathetic expression.

“Awww poor daddy, you must be so stressed.” She holds onto your arm, pushing her perky breasts into you. Your wife has never given you so much as a glance in your direction whenever you showed up exhausted from work. She’s probably too busy texting her personal trainer. Hell, she’s probably fucking him right at this very moment. It’s only fair if you get to have some fun for yourself, right?

“Yeah, I suppose I am pretty stressed. On top of that, my wife has been cheating on me with this personal trainer guy she met a couple months ago.” As soon as you mention your wife’s adultery, a hint of a smirk appears on Hanni’s lips.

“Oh no~,” she says, feigning pity. “Maybe I can help you… feel better?” She puts your hand on your chest and inches it downwards, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Her face is close enough for you to feel her breath on your chin, but just far enough for her to escape if you try to kiss her. All you can do is wait as you feel her hand getting closer and closer closer to your raging erection. Everything fades away but the pumping of your heart and the gentle brown of her eyes. Finally, a guttural groan escapes your mouth as she grasps onto your cock, stroking it through your pants.

Hanni giggles at your expression. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Do you like it when I play with Daddy’s cock?” All you can do is nod as she continues to toy with you, rubbing and squeezing along your shaft. It’s been so long since another person has touched your penis that you almost finish right then and there, but you continue to hold it in with steely determination.

“Daddy’s cock is so big and thick, I don’t know if it’ll fit in my tiny, little mouth.” Hanni leans into your ear, tickling your skin with her breath as she whispers, “Maybe we should find out.”

“Y-yes, god yes,” you practically beg.

“Then tell me what to do,” she says. “I’m your little whore for the night. Treat me like one.” Those filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth is a memory that you will never forget until the day you die.

“Fucking suck my cock, you slut,” you command her, a little too enthusiastically. Even in the prime of your relationship, your wife would never let you talk to her like this. To have your commands followed by this cute girl is heart-poundingly exhilarating. You feel like a whole new man.

Hanni fiddles with your belt buckle at a snail’s pace. You try to do it yourself to get the ball rolling, but she swats your hand away.

“Let me do it by myself, Daddy~” she pouts. With a nod, you lean back and let her have her way, succumbing to the desires of her cuteness. If she wanted to, she could easily take over the world with her looks alone.

After unbuckling your belt and unzipping your pants, all that’s left is the fabric of your underwear separating your dick from her glossy lips. Hanni places a few gentle kisses on your bulge, drawing a moan from your belly. Giggling, her fingers hook around the waistband and pull it down at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you to wait as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Finally, your member swings up, almost hitting Hanni in the face. Her jaw drops as she gazes at your length, a look of surprise and a little bit of fear in her eyes.

“Oh shit…” she whispers to herself before shaking her head and putting back the sultry appearance she had before. “I can’t wait to choke on your big, fat cock, Daddy,” she smirks as she begins to stroke your shaft. Hanni’s hands are much softer than your wife’s, and even more skilled as she cups your balls, applying just enough pressure so that it doesn’t hurt. You watch with bated breath as she leans forward, eyeing the tip of your cock for a moment before it disappears into her open mouth. The sound of your moan echoes throughout the subway car as Hanni sucks on your tip, slowly taking in more of your length with each bob of her head. Even your wife’s cocksucking skills pale in comparison to hers, you almost feel bad for the guy that she’s fucking.

“Yes, good girl, Hanni. Suck that dick, you fucking slut,” you encourage. You notice her ass sticking up in the air, and thanks to the rumbling of the train and her bobbing motions, her skirt rides up just enough for you to peek at the white panties covering her ass, giving you the bright idea to reel back and give her a good, hard spank. She moans into your cock, heightening the sensation. 

“I bet you like that, you little whore.” You yank her up by the hair, forcing her to look at you, saliva covering her mouth and chin. All the inhibitions and common sense you had before are completely gone, leaving nothing behind but animalistic desire.  “Say it. Say that your daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“I’m daddy’s little fucktoy,” she repeats, giggling at you. Satisfied, you release her hair and sit back, watching as she alternates between deepthroating your shaft and sucking on your balls while she strokes your entire length with her spit. You would happily quit your job and live at the subway instead if it meant you get to have this petite sex doll all to yourself every night.

Suddenly, the train comes to a stop at one of the stations and a man stumbles inside. The two of you scramble to cover up, hiding any semblance that the two of you were doing anything indecent. Much to your dismay, the man sits nearby, making it difficult for even small gestures to go unnoticed. He’s clearly not a student nor is he an office worker, so why the hell would he be riding the subway this late at night!?

“Wait,” Hanni whispers, pointing at the man. “Look.”

Confused, you watch as his body begins to sway with the movements of the train. Upon closer inspection, you notice that his eyes are struggling to stay open and his clothes are disheveled. Clearly, he’s either drunk, faded, or both. Finally, BAM - he knocks out on the seat, completely unconscious.

Hanni stifles as she gives you a knowing look. “He’ll be out for a little while so…” She bends over the seat, shaking her butt at you. “Fuck my little pussy with that cock, Daddy~,” she teases, winking back at you.

Pounding with excitement, you release your cock and stroke it back to life, while your other hand pulls down her white cotton panties, finally revealing her pinky honeypot to you. With Hanni’s saliva as lube, you line up your tip with her cunt, teasing her moist folds.

“Are you ready, baby?” you ask

“I’m so fucking rea- MMPH!” She struggles to stifle a moan as you completely bottom out inside of her, all in one thrust. So slick and so tight, you don't even care about comparing her to your wife anymore. All you want to do is ruin her little pussy and use it as your personal cocksleeve. You sink your fingers into her hips, pulling her into you with each thrust and watching her cute ass jiggle against you.

Fuck that stupid company. Fuck your stupid bitch of a wife. Your entire life you were told what to do, how to act, and what you should look like in order to succeed in life. You followed everyone’s orders to a T, even going above and beyond to obtain that success that was oh so coveted. But look where you are now - eight inches deep into some girl you just met tonight. Fuck the “high-paying job” and fuck the “hot wife”. If this isn’t success, then you don’t know what is.

“O-oh my g-god… Y-you’re so f-fucking h-huge…” Hanni squeaks in between thrusts, desperately trying to control her volume. You’re unsure how much longer you can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Whether she likes it or not, this slut is gonna leave with a gallon of your cum deep inside of her.

Hanni’s body begins to shake violently. “I-I… I’m cumming!” She shrieks wildly. You pull out of her, watching in astonishment as she squirts all over the seats. And your wife said you could never dream of satisfying a woman - if only she could see this now. 

“H-holy shit…” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder as she gasps for air. “That was… fucking insane.” Both of you laugh as you wait for her to get down from her high. Miraculously, the man didn’t notice her ear-splitting orgasm, still completely out cold.

Suddenly, Hanni straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your head. “I noticed that you didn’t cum yet, Daddy.” She gyrates your hips, rubbing her wet slit against your tip. You figure she would still be sensitive after the first round, but it’s clear she was built purely to fuck. “Maybe we should change that,” she says, biting her lips.

“Maybe we should,” you smirk. Hanni kisses you as she drops her hips onto your cock, causing her to moan into your mouth. Not wanting to give up dominance completely, you shove your tongue down her throat, filling two of her holes at once. The wet slapping of her bouncing on your cock echoes throughout the car, and at this point, you don’t care if that man wakes up or not. He could be completely conscious and recording you right now, but you still wouldn’t stop plowing this little minx. In fact, you secretly hope that he is recording right now - the whole world should know that this fucktoy named Hanni is yours and yours alone.

You rip open her top, exposing her perky tits. They are on the smaller side, but they’re big enough to jiggle with each bounce and that’s good enough for you. Hanni grabs your head as you latch onto her tits, licking and sucking every inch of her chest. The pressure begins to build in your loins and you know the end is coming soon. Wanting to milk every drop of this experience, you stand up, supporting Hanni by the ass, and begin ramming into her with every ounce of energy you have left. Rather than a 40-something-year-old man, you feel like you’re reborn again into your 20-year-old body. You feel the familiar tightening of Hanni’spussy around your member, and with one final thrust, your body is elevated to Heaven. Shooting rope after rope into her deep cunt, the high is nothing like you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Not even your wife- Ah, who cares about her. She’s nothing but dirt under your foot, while Hanni is an angel sent from above.

You gently place her down on the seat before collapsing next to her, shutting your eyes so you can replay this entire experience in your head. Never in your life did you think you would ever get this lucky. The train comes to a halt, and a hand pats your shoulder.

“Sorry Daddy, but this is my stop,” she giggles as she skips towards the open doors. Despite the rough pounding you just gave her, she somehow managed to look presentable in the short time that your eyes were closed. “I’ll see you around, Daddy~”

The last thing you see is her wink before hopping off the train and disappearing into the night. You’re disappointed that you didn’t ask for her contact information before she left, but you’re confident that you’ll cross paths with her again in the future. Surely, whatever god that heard your prayers isn’t that cruel, right?

As you approach your stop, you quickly get yourself sorted, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from passersby. If your wife asks about any mysterious “stains” on you, you could easily attribute it to being clumsy while drinking. Not that she would care enough to ask anyway. 

Upon exiting the car, a police officer stops you as you approach the stairs.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says. You try to ignore him, hoping that there’s someone behind you that he’s referring to, but unfortunately, nobody else is around. “Sir, I need to talk to you for just a moment.”

“What’s the problem, officer?” You ask, hiding your panic behind a nervous smile. A whirlwind of questions swarm your mind. Is this about Hanni? Did you get caught? Was it that drunk guy that sold you out? Beads of sweat begin to form on your head as the police officer questions you.

“There has been an increase in robberies in the subway recently and I just want to ask if you saw any suspicious individuals lurking around the subway.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the heat isn’t on you. “Well, no officer, I haven’t seen any suspicious individuals around,” you reply.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “All the victims have described the suspect as being a short Asian girl, about 18 years of age, with big brown eyes and black hair. Does that ring any bells for you?

An alarm blares throughout your head. Surely he’s lying, right? Maybe he’s talking about a different Asian girl. There are probably thousands, no, MILLIONS of people that fit that criteria. Besides, you and Hanni shared a special connection tonight. She’s the answer to everything that ever went wrong in your life, an angel sent from Heaven to cure you of your miseries. Hanni wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You dig through your pockets, frantically scrambling for your wallet and your phone. You feel something in your pocket and pull it out, only to be filled with dread at the sight of it - white cotton panties.

[yeri-luvr]

PIGTAILS

pair: gp ! karina x 5thmember ! femreader

wc: 1.9k

includes: smut, slight mommy kink, degradation, dom karina sub reader, oral (karina receiving), they almost get caught lol lmk if i missed any

She eyed you, especially your hairstyle while she thought about what she would do to you once the concert ends. Your hair was styled in cute pigtails, curled at the end with a hello kitty clip laying nearby your temple making the hairstyle look ten times prettier.

You could tell Karina wanted you 30 minutes before the encore was over. Her eyes looking up and down at you was all you needed to confirm your suspicions on whether or not her hands would be on you tonight. Deciding to give fan service while teasing her at the same time, you walk over to her with the sweetest smile, putting on an innocent act.

You whisper, “I can see you eye fucking me already; just think about when you’ll be able to see all of me,” and with that, you leave her with just a kiss to her cheek.

It was hard to miss the loud screams from clueless MY’s as you walk away from the scene. It was quite funny to you how they didn’t have a single clue of how worked up Rina was. You already knew a little dirty talk goes a long way for her, so you knew she would not be able to hold on longer soon before the concert ended.

Fortunately for Jimin, the concert came to an end and she let out a sigh as soon as she stepped foot backstage. Once the adrenaline from putting on the performance of her life ran out, she finally sees you in her peripheral vision. You stand there, chatting it up with Ningning as if you didn’t give her blue balls mid stage.

It didn’t take long before you felt her hard gaze, and once you made eye contact with her you knew you were in some deep shit. As soon as Rina noticed Ningning getting distracted by the snacks left for the girls, she swiftly grabbed you by your wrist and forced you to the second green room backstage. Grateful that the room was empty, Jimin locks to the door behind you and backs you up against it until your chests are pushed upon each other.

“You thought it was gonna be cute once you stepped off that stage after pulling that stunt?” This certainly wasn’t the worst thing you pulled on jimin, it was just that fact that you knew she was horny before you proceeded to rile her up suddenly. Playing it cool you respond, “I’m sorry baby, I just wanted to let you know I loved the staring.”

This seemed to piss her off more, you acting nonchalant all the while she feels like she can’t keep her dick in her pants any longer. “Quit playing innocent with me knowing damn well I could remind you how much of a slut you are for me.” Depending on how bratty you are feeling, you would agree and admit to how many things she could make you do without giving any complaints.

You let out a whine while resisting the urge to squeeze your legs, willing to do about anything to satiate the heat you feel down there. She lets out a sarcastic pout, “My poor baby, you’re so close to humping my leg. Aren’t you desperate..”. Unable to get any words out, you shake your head no but you already know she sees right through you.

She continued to persuade you, “Just quit the act and i’ll do whatever you need me to, my love”. You began to think how does she even have the patience right now to tease you back, and you conclude that karma decided to bite you in the ass.

“I need you jimin, it hurts so much.” Looking up at her, you realize that wasn’t enough. “come on- I need mommy’s help. it aches so much and I need mommy to help.” As much as it hurt to put your pride aside as you thought you were in control here, The sly smile Karina gave while looking down on you compensated for your defeat.

“You know i’m always happy to help my baby, you just need to behave to get what you want.”. As she’s feeling up on you, you finally noticed the feeling of something hard nudging you just above your cunt. You chased it with your hips, trying to feel it more towards where you needed it most.

“Please jimin, I need it.” Keeping your hips still, Karina looks at you confused, “Need what, baby? Can’t use that foul mouth of yours now?”.

You realized how humiliating the situation was and how it completely turned back on you. Believing you could finally break Karina down as much as she does to you, you failed to remember just how down bad you were for the girl.

At this point you’ve given up the goal of having her in any position you wanted, and instead basked in the idea of being her source of pleasure, being the one name she yells while she reaches her peak.

“I want you in my mouth. Please mommy, can I help you feel good?” Karina noticed your voice getting whinier by the second, your legs unashamedly squeezing around hers while dragging your cunt up and down her flexed thigh. “Hm, do you think you deserve to have my cock?” It didn’t even take a second for you to whip out a response, “Only if you think I deserve it.”.

Pleased with your response, she lifts you up and walks towards the leather couch not too far from where you two stand at the door. Without much remorse, she drops you onto the couch as if you were a rag doll and was quick to start unbuckling her belt. Tossing it somewhere to find later in the room, her pants were off quicker than you could get your shirt and bra off. She finishes the job for you, unclasping the pink bra and going straight to work with your tits.

If you loved karinas boobs, she loved yours a thousand times more. She never failed to pay attention to your nipples during foreplay, and it always had you moaning as if she was dicking you down right that second.

“Baby you’re gonna have to keep quiet for me, we barely even started,” You heard her rush out amidst a particular loud cry. Suddenly remembering the task at hand, you lightly push her head off your saliva-covered chest until she’s propped up on the couch. Fortunately for you, all that was left to cover her was her boxers so you were able to quickly get to work. Once she was exposed, you groaned at the sight of her tip slapping her abdomen, focusing on the precum and the string it makes when you lift her dick off her stomach.

Your prized possession felt heavy in your hand, you stared at it enamored by the length as if it was your first time with her all over again. Karina isn’t shy at hiding her impatience, tapping your head before guiding you closer to her cock, “Make me wait any longer or you’re only getting my fingers tonight”. This made you look up at her before proceeding to lick just the tip, just enough to leave her mouth hanging while waiting for your next move. With no warning, your next move was taking her whole but slowly, not forgetting to keep eye contact and track her reactions.

unable to keep eye contact, Rina throws her head back while relishing on the feeling she’s been waiting for. Keeping an eye on her came easy for you, you took pride in being the only one who gets to see her like this.

Starting to bob your head up and down, you made small noises whenever her tip came in contact with the back of your throat. Karina was grateful that you were quick to be submissive, but was still displeased at the pace you were presenting her. With one hand she managed to grab both of your pigtails and set the pace for the rest of the time being. The small noises coming from you turned into full on gags, and tears streamed from your eyes along with the “waterproof” mascara your makeup artist used.

Karina considered it a blessing to see you like this. Your image to the public being a woman that looks like an angel and even acts like one quickly crumbles once you happen to be with her behind closed doors. unfortunately anything you do with each other behind said doors would make an angel frown or would not be considered a blessing by others.

You on the other hand already lost track of time. You didn’t notice when you gave up on looking at karina, and you most definitely didn’t notice when someone came knocking at the door.

“Hello?” Two knocks and a muffled voice, “Aeri, I swore my headphones were in here”

This got you to look up, not at the door but at Karina who has yet to stop thrusting in your abused throat.

“I’m in here Minjeong! I’m changing, almost done.” Through your haze you acknowledge her talent at keeping a stable voice while receiving head.

With no other response from Min, her focus returns to you and she smiles fondly. She couldn’t help but think you looked so cute while getting your mouth fucked simultaneously. All she could hear were your usual whimpers and the sloppiness of your spit coating her dick. Her grip on your hair tightens as she gets closer and you shut your eyes waiting for a twitch or a bead of precum that’ll let you know her climax will come soon.

She grunts, “Where do you want me?”. This is probably your favorite question, but you know the answer doesn’t really matter since she’ll most likely get hard again at the sight of her load anywhere on you.

You lift your head off her, puffing out a breath through your mouth after managing to breath only through your nose for so long. You don’t leave her unattended, quick enough to massage her cock before she even noticed you mouth was off of her.

“You can cum in my mouth, remind me of how good you taste,” And with that, she licks her lips and wraps her hand around your hand that jerks her off. She squeezes her hand around you, making her wince at the tightness around her very hard member. both of your hands glided along her cock easily thanks to your spit, and you were practically grinding your cunt down on your heel. You take pleasure in feeling the fabric of your panties rub between your lips and right against your clit.

Karina feeling herself getting close, she thrusts her hips upwards towards your hands. You knew she was reaching her climax by the way her unoccupied hand grabbed at the couch, so you prepared yourself by positioning your mouth right above her tip, sticking your tongue out ready to lick up anything she gives you.

When Karina breaks down is when you finally get what you’ve been waiting for. Not only were you waiting for her to cum in your mouth, but you were mainly excited for the moans she lets out when she’s spent. They aren’t like the usual groans or the huffs she lets out, but they are whines that rarely come out from her. You continue to lick at her sensitive slit just to hear a little more, and all you can do is stare as she throws her head back and lets out more whimpers.

Soon after she catches her breath, she notices your hips moving back and forth while on your knees and she begins to anticipate just how much slick you had from getting her off.

Pulling you up by under your arms she mumbles, “Cmon, my baby still needs help.”

a/n: tysm for reading! i barely proof read this so sorry for the mistake that might b in here💕 also accepting requests

[rafesbabygirlx]

Drew’s Birthday Gift

Masterlist

Drew Starkey x Wife!Reader

Summary: It’s Drew’s birthday and the two of you usually have a ton of fun, drinking and going out with friends but this years different. You are 7 months pregnant, constantly exhausted and in pain.

A/N: A day late but the idea came to me last night then I fell asleep lol

I allude to Drew’s gift on his 30th with reader. I have a fun idea for that if you’d like a part 2!

Warnings: fluff/smut all in one, smut towards the end, body insecurity (reader being pregnant) hormones, reader is hard on herself

Part 2: Drew’s 30th

Coming home from Poguelandia was a relief. You’d spent most of the day on your feet, swollen and aching all the way up to your claves, but it had all been worth it. The OBX cast adored you, and despite the physical toll, it was an amazing day.

The past few months had been nothing short of magical: Drew’s film premiere, getting engaged in Venice, Paris Fashion Week, a courthouse wedding a week later, the OBX premiere, and Poguelandia. Working remotely allowed you to travel with Drew effortlessly, though adjusting to new time zones was always a challenge.

Your wedding was intimate, just as you both wanted. Chip served as your witness, which felt fitting since he was the reason you two met. Family and close friends flew in for a dinner celebration afterward. You never envisioned yourself as a wife or mother, but Drew had a way of changing everything you thought you knew about yourself.

As your pregnancy progressed, the constant travel began to wear on you. Now in your third trimester, even the simplest tasks left you breathless, sore, and utterly exhausted. Putting on shoes was nearly impossible and every muscle ached in your body.

This year, guilt gnawed at you for not being able to plan something extravagant for Drew’s birthday. The best you managed was flying in his sister, brother, and a few close friends for a small dinner. For the past five years, you’d always organized grand celebrations. His 30th birthday was unforgettable, with a *special* gift that left Drew infatuated for days. But this year, you barely had the energy to make it through the day, let alone plan something big. You worried it wasn’t enough.

Pregnancy brain struck hard when you realized, as you were getting ready, that you hadn’t even bought him a gift. The sudden wave of panic brought tears to your eyes, but you forced them back, determined not to ruin the day. You felt like the worst wife.

Dinner was nice, set at Drew’s favorite restaurant in LA. The food was impeccable, and you managed to push aside your self-doubt, even as your back ached from the uncomfortable chair. Drew noticed and rested his hand on your thigh, concern in his eyes. “You okay? You’ve been quiet tonight,” he asked softly.

“Yeah, just uncomfortable,” you said, tapping the back of the chair. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you and the chair closer, and held you there for the rest of the night.

When the cake arrived, the group began to sing “Happy Birthday.” You smiled at Drew but glanced at the cake and noticed “birthday” was misspelled. Normally, such a thing wouldn’t bother you, but today, it felt like the final straw. You kept it together until Drew kissed you, and you whispered playfully, “Save me a piece.” You kissed him again before slipping away to the restroom, locking the door behind you. Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to calm the storm of emotions. You felt selfish for not being able to handle your emotions, but the third trimester had turned you into an emotional rollercoaster. A few tears fell before you dabbed your cheeks with a paper towel with cold water and pulled yourself together.

Returning to the table, Drew’s eyes met yours, now filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re alright? You can tell me, baby,” he said.

You managed a small smile, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’m fine, just… you know, it doesn’t wait for anything now,” you joked, gesturing to your belly. You both chuckled, but Drew wasn’t convinced. He knew you too well.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Back home, you collapsed on the couch, Drew helping you out of your boots. The sense of relief was immediate. He sat beside you, lifting your swollen feet onto his lap to massage them. “This is your day, you relax. Don’t pamper me for once,” you said, trying to sound lighthearted. You lifted your feet off of him and he felt the disconnect from you.

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired. Can we go to bed?” you added, the exhaustion weighing down your voice.

“Of course, let’s go.” Drew helped you to your feet, and you changed into pajamas. Lying in bed, facing each other, a silence hung between you as you propped up one arm, rested your head in your hand, and absentmindedly traced patterns on his bare chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong now,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

“I told you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Five years together, and you think I don’t know when something’s up? What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s 11:50,” you replied after checking the clock.

“Okay, in 10 minutes, my birthday will be over, and you’ll tell me what’s really going on. Deal?” He knew that’s what the constant dismissal was for tonight.

You wanted to deny it, but all you could manage was, “Deal.”

Those 10 minutes passed in silence, your mind racing. As soon as the clock struck midnight, Drew spoke again. “Tell me, please, baby.”

“I… I just think I ruined this day for you.” He looked puzzled but waited for you to continue. Sitting up, you leaned against the headboard, and he mirrored you.

“I usually go all out for your birthday, make it a huge event with everyone you love. But this year, all I could pull together was a dinner. I’ve felt terrible all day, and when the cake was misspelled, it was just the cherry on top. I didn’t even get you a gift, and our birthday sex is usually amazing. But I’m so swollen and uncomfortable, I didn’t even want you to see me naked. It’s just a lot, and I didn’t want to ruin your day.” Tears rolled down your cheeks as you spoke.

Drew leaned towards you and cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, don’t cry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I loved today. I love every birthday we spend together because you’re what makes it special. This might be my favorite birthday yet. I was surrounded by the people I love, and most importantly, I had you and our son with me. What more could I possibly want? Next year, it’ll be even better when he’s here and you’re singing happy birthday to me, I’ll holding him.” His words sent a fresh wave of tears down your face. How could he be this sweet? How are you this lucky.

“I know it’s been tough on you, and I didn’t want to push. But I do still have a birthday wish,” he said, smirking as you wiped your tears and smiled.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

“You. But only if you’re comfortable. I’m going to love you no matter what, and I think you’re more beautiful now, with this bump and everything you’re going through to grow our son.”

His words melted away your insecurities and exhaustion. “You’re the only gift I want, Y/N,” he whispered.

You wiped your eyes and stood up. “Where are you going?” Drew asked, confused.

“To get your gift wrapped.” A few minutes later, you emerged from the closet wearing the white lace lingerie set you’d bought for your maternity shoot. His jaw dropped, and you knew you’d made his night complete. “Wow.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Drew got out of bed and sat at the edge, reaching his arms out for you. You settled in between his legs.His hands glided over your body, igniting a spark within you. "All this for me? You shouldn't have," he whispered, his smirk sending shivers down your spine. You blushed at his words, but your heart swelled with affection as he continued, "I told you, you were beautiful when I met you. You were beautiful every day for the past 5 years, and you're even more beautiful now that you're my wife and the mother of my child. There's no one else I'd want to do this with."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Thank you, my love.” His kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck, each touch light and deliberate. His hands moved gently, offering a reassuring comfort as he reached for the clasp of your bra. You tensed for a moment, and he paused. “Can I see all of you?” he asked, his tone full of affection. You nodded, allowing him to remove the fabric. His lips found their way to your chest, kissing you with a reverence that sent warmth through your body. He moved with care, knowing how tender your body had become.

Drew lifted you effortlessly and placed you at the center of the bed, returning to remove his own sweatpants before joining you. Your confidence surged in the safety of his presence, and you began to slide down your underwear. He helped, eyes never leaving yours, full of admiration and love.

It had been months since you last shared an intimate moment. Between your growing belly and hidden insecurities, and sex drive plummeting from hormone, your desire had waned. But now, Drew’s touch and words reignited something inside you, a closeness you’d missed. He gently ran his fingers along your body, his touch both soothing and electrifying. His movements were slow and careful, each one a reminder of how cherished you were.

He rubbed his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal, he ran his hand up and down his length as he met your entrance, and slowly entered you. The stretch felt amazing, and you squirmed beneath him, eager for more. You loved the way he made you feel, the way he took care of you.

You two usually have fun in bed. You experiment and are usually rough. It’s easy to do with him, knowing he’ll never truly hurt you and you’re both just so comfortable with each other. Tonight was different, though. Everything was more intimate, more tender. His strokes were slow and full of love. He leaned in, careful of your bump, placed one arm beneath you and the other on your side. His forehead pressed against yours as he looked into your eyes. "So good, Drew," you whispered, and he smiled, his eyes filled with affection. "Just wanna take care of you, baby, you're the best gift ever."

You felt overwhelmed with affection, tears threatening to spill as he continued to hold you with care. The room was quiet, filled only with soft whispers and shared breaths as he adjusted his pace to your need.

He keeps this pace, until you grow a little impatient. “A little harder… please.” He picks up the pace the second you ask. Still soft with his movements but the speed is much better. His head is wedge in the crook of your neck as you run your fingers through his hair and down his back, feeling more connected than ever. He licked his fingers and touched your clit. Moving slow deliberate circles keeping the same pace as his hips. You’re getting closer and you clench down on him. “Come for me baby, forget about the pain for a little bit.”

You become putty in his arms and his words send you spiraling into an orgasm that washed over you like a tidal wave. Drew’s follows behind. He sits up and runs his hand over your bump. “Most beautiful mother I’ve ever seen. You’re an angel.” You smile at his words.

"You're the most beautiful mother I've ever seen," he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration. You smiled, feeling loved and cherished.

He gets up and puts back on his sweatpants returning with a washcloth and a big t-shirt of his. He cleans you up and pulls the shirt over your head. He gets back into bed and pulls you to him. “Best birthday ever, thank you my love. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Drewbug.” And as you fell asleep in his arms, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[xshadowdelta]

Witch

Irene x Male Reader (3.6K Length)

"Hey rookie, it’s time to work."

You stood up and left that small service room, in whose sign was written 'Authorized Service Only'.

It was your first week in this new summer job as a bellboy at the most famous 5-star hotel, right in the middle of the city with a huge amount of guests every day. You got here thanks to a friend’s recommendation, not your dream job, but you really needed the money, and the pay was juicy. You arrived at the reception hall where your manager was standing next to a mountain of suitcases, feeling as if your soul wanted to leave your body seeing all those bags.

"Miss Bae Joohyun’s luggage, room 362, as soon as possible, she is waiting for it."

It took you a while to place every one of the suitcases in the luggage birdcage, using every skill you had in the Tetris game to not drop them. Then you took the elevator to the third floor, and once there, you drove until you reached the indicated room by your senior.

You knocked on the door and fixed the wrinkles in your jacket, since your first day, the manager had been very insistent on looking perfect in front of the clients. You heard the sound of the door opening and forced one of your best smiles,

"Good morning, Miss Bae, here is your luggage."

The woman in front of you didn’t say a single word as she scanned you up and down, just a slight head move to give you permission to get inside the room, meanwhile, she continues with the phone call in which she was involved.

Oh yeah, another rich middle-aged woman with a major superiority complex. You frowned and let out a whisper that only you could hear.

"Witch…"

But you have a job to do, so you entered the suite along with the luggage and began to unstack all the suitcases.

You looked back at the woman who was now standing, looking at the beautiful views offered by the windows of that room. She was speaking in a foreign language, maybe korean.

Yet you managed to understand the word "stylist" and it gave you the feeling that the person on the other side of the line was getting a good scold.

You could only see the profile of her face, enough to detect a serious and cold expression that you didn't like at all, but still you had to admit that she was a very beautiful woman.

The work was finished at the same time she ended the call. Your eyes met for a moment, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You gave her a small bow before saying goodbye.

"Have a good stay with us, Miss Bae, we are at your disposal." You were already close to the door when her voice stopped you.

"Wait a moment, please."

Another smile was forced in your face before turning on your feet to come face to face with her.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Here is your tip."

She got some bills out of her wallet and offered them to you. You hesitated at first, but you ended up taking them, and for the first time, your smile was a genuine one. You save them in the pocket of your uniform, ready to finally leave that room.

"By the way, just from one look, have you been able to deduce that I am a witch?" Suddenly, your breathing stopped, and your skin tone turned pale white. You were sure you had said it quietly enough for her not to hear that.

"Being a woman as important as me. I must be alert to everything that happens around me, don’t you think?”

Cool, now she can read minds, definitely a witch.

"I apologize, Miss Bae, it was never my intention to hurt your feelings." Your voice trembled, knowing you could be fired because of this.

"Feelings? I put them aside many years ago."

The confusion on your face was notorious, your eyes followed her to see how she took a seat, watching you with a scary look. Another shiver ran down your spine. Running away from there was not a good idea, first because it wouldn't solve anything and would make you look like a coward, but the truth is that you wanted to disappear from the world at that moment.

On the other hand, you could just cry like a baby begging for her forgiveness, that would certainly be ridiculous, but it would save your ass from a guaranteed dismissal.

"Miss Bae…"

"Don’t tell me. Do you want us to forget this incident, right?"

Her face was cold, and her words sounded like ice, sinking deeper and deeper into your chest. But you couldn't articulate a single word, just nodded your head.

For a small period of time, you thought that a halo of kindness would take over her, and she would give in to your request to forgive you, but kindness wasn't in the dictionary of Bae Joohyun.

"Get naked"

It took you a few seconds to understand the request she had just made. She didn't take long to repeat. "What are you waiting for? Get naked"

"WHAT?"

That scream only made her angrier, hitting the ground with her foot, impatient. Her look did not change at any time, she continued staring at you, challenging you.

"I see, you don’t care about this job, so…"

"Wait…"

Your hands started to move, and your uniform jacket fell to the floor. You continued unbuttoning your shirt, making your naked torso visible.

Next was taking off your shoes so you could get rid of your pants that would accompany the rest of the clothes on the floor, leaving you in underwear under the watchful eye of Mrs. Joohyun, who now had a slight mischievous smile while looking at you.

"I think we have a different concept about nudity."

You looked down at your nether area, and then your eyes returned to her. She was really trying to humiliate you in every way. "Everything?"

The coldness of her gaze was enough of an answer for you, making you slide your hands over your boxers, leaving you now completely naked. "Now I want you to stay there, don’t move and pay attention."

You felt like you were about to faint right there when you saw that woman spread her legs on the couch, raising her dress to reveal her panties, which she pushed aside.

She was showing you her naked pussy before she started caressing it with her hand. You couldn't believe your eyes, a minute ago you were fired, and now you had an incredibly hot woman masturbating herself right in front of you. Joohyun licked his own hand as she stroked herself fast, starting to moan with no shame. Despite finding yourself in this complicated situation, watching this show made your body react, and your penis was already completely erect. You tried to move one of your hands towards your penis, but Joohyun's voice stopped you. "Told you to, don't move!" "Remember that your job is at risk."

Then she inserted two of her fingers inside her pussy to stimulate herself more. Hear her loud moans, and the watery sound due to the humidity of her vagina was driving you crazy.

Joohyun continued like this for a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Meanwhile, you were praying that this torture would come to an end, and miraculously she would decide to forgive you and run away out of there, straight to the employee bathroom to masturbate yourself, thinking about what you were experiencing at this moment.

"Come here" She demanded in an authoritarian tone, and you approached until you were right in front of her, which didn't stop her from continuing to pleasure herself.

"On your knees."

Now, your face was practically a few centimeters from her pussy, but you didn't expect Joohyun to let out one last pleasure scream, squirting directly on you.

You closed your eyes at time, however, now your face was covered by Joohyun fluids, who was now breathing tiredly but still looking at you, with a serious expression on her face.

“Wow”

Was the only thing you could say, you were in shock after what had just happened. You ran your hand over your face, trying to clean up the mess, licking a couple of your fingers in the process.

"Delicious"

"What have you said?" She was stunned, and her voice tone sounded even more enraged.

"You are delicious, Mrs. Bae."

That answer made her get up from the couch in a bad mood. She walked to the pile of your clothes on the floor and grabbed the tie that minutes ago had surrounded your neck, but now was being used to tie your hands at your back.

"What are you doing?" You asked, standing up.

She stood next to you and, without warning, grabbed your still erect penis with one of her hands, making you gasp.

"You keep saying vulgarities, you need a real punishment."

She whispered in your ear, starting to masturbate your penis slowly, making you moan a little bit. She was increasing the pace, stroking you with both hands at the same time.

"You were supposed to feel humiliation, and instead you had the courage to taste my fluids and the nerve to say 'delicious.'  I have never met someone like you, you are quite a challenge."

Your brain was unable to say anything as it was busy moaning in pleasure at Jonghyun's touch.

"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to…"

"Don't you even dare, now it's my turn to taste you."

She stopped touching you and crouched on her knees in front of you. She looked up, straight into your eyes, you saw that look again, that no longer seemed so cold, but immediately closed your eyes because of the immense pleasure you felt when her mouth devoured your cock.

Your body staggered, and you cursed for having your hands tied at that moment. You opened your eyes again only to see how she sucked your cock over and over again at an accelerated but constant pace, damn, you were in heaven.

She grabbed your balls, and at the same time she was sucking you, pressing on them, making you feel a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Fuck, you have a good dick here."

She spit on your cock, going back to masturbate you, making wet your entire length, so that now when she sucked you, she also slurped some saliva.

“Mrs. Bae…”

She stopped for a second and looked into your eyes again.

"Irene…call me Irene."

The beat of your heart increased because of that, a feeling that was quickly replaced by another wave of pleasure when you noticed how she reintroduced your penis into her mouth, now even reaching his throat, causing her to choke on your cock.

You looked at the ceiling, trying to hold on as long as possible, wishing this moment would never end, then you felt a pinch of pain in your thighs, so you looked down again.

Your eyes found the view of Irene grabbing your thighs with her nails and the entirety of your cock inside her mouth, with some tears welling up in her eyes. She closed her eyes and started moving her head back and forth. You could say she was using you to fuck her own throat.

She stopped to take a breath, but immediately lifted your cock with one of his hands and began licking your balls desperately. "Keep looking at me or this will end here."

It was the first instruction that you would gladly follow.

She ran her tongue along the entire length, licking every inch before giving your tip a special treatment and taking it back into her mouth, this time masturbating you with her hands at the same time as she sucked you off. That made you about to explode.

"Irene…" You managed to say between several moans.

Then she let it off from her mouth again and masturbated you fiercely with both hands, looking at you with lust. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, sticking her tongue out. You knew what she wanted.

There was no need to say anything else. A few more seconds, and you let out a huge load of semen that fell directly into his mouth and face, squeezing until the last drop fell.

Irene's face was now a real mess. She had managed to swallow part of your cum, but other threads of semen fell near her eyes and part of her hair. She didn't mind at all, she was busy cleaning your cock now.

She got up a little later, walking until she stood behind you again, untying the knot that was imprisoning your hands. She took one of your hands and dragged you to another room in the suite, the bedroom with a huge bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she caught your attention again.

"Do you want to keep this job?"

Once again, you nodded your head.

"If you can make me have an orgasm, I'll pretend none of this ever happened, you understand?”

"Loud and clear."

You tried to hide your nervousness as best you could and mentally preparing yourself to give her the greatest effort of your life, your future depended on what happened in the next few minutes.

You took a few steps towards the direction where she was, she was imposing, she was scary, yes, but at the same time, you had a sensation running through your body that you had never experienced before, and you wanted to go until the end.

You bent your head straight to kiss his neck. She let out a sigh, a good sign, you deduced. You trailed kisses along his neck at the same time that your hands roamed her body.

"Not bad, but this is nothing out of this world."

You shouldn't rush, she was provoking you, you knew it. Make a mistake, and it will be over. However, you also knew how to play that game.

"Excuse my clumsiness, Mrs. Bae, my job consists of transporting suitcases, not to sexually satisfy clients, even so you seemed to have enjoyed my cock."

Your lips now kissed the part of her naked chest that was not covered by her dress.

"Even now you are still behaving like a reckless, shut the fuck up and take me off this damn dress…now."

She raised her arms, so the dress came out more comfortably, her black lace bra was still annoying, but with a deft movement it quickly disappeared as well, leaving you with the view of her naked tits.

Your mouth quickly acted as shelter for her boobs, drawing loud moans from Irene. Her hands traveled to the back of your head, pressing you closer against them.

"Just like that, fuck, work on these fucking little tits."

You sucked her boobs and licked her nipples, which at this point were really hard by the moves of your tongue. With every second that passed, Irene became more moldable under your touch.

At that moment, you took advantage of to move one of your hands to her lower zone, totally wet after the first session, you touched her pussy over her panties using circular movements.

"So fucking wet, Miss Bae." You said it with a superior tone.

"Told you to shut up." She was getting angry again.

"As you wish."

You replied and suddenly kissed her lips. Irene opened her eyes in surprise, but it didn't take long for her to respond to the kiss with even more energy, until both of you got separated to take a breath.

"It's funny, men are usually afraid of me, and I love to create that feeling in them, but it also makes them never dare to kiss me. I almost forgot how kisses felt." She said with a half-smile on her face, touching her swollen lips.

"In that case, let me help you remember."

You said, emboldened, kissing her again with passion, making her respond with the same lust and starting a battle of tongues inside your mouths. You lost your balance due to the fury of the kisses, and you fell on top of her when her back hit the bed.

When you separated from her again, you could see how her messy hair had fallen on her sweaty forehead and her cheeks were completely red, but you were surprised by her smile, this time it was a full formed and sincere smile.

"Show me what else can do that mouth of yours."

You kissed her lips again, a quick kiss this time, which was followed by another path of kisses all over her body until you reached her panties, you managed to take them off to finally see her naked pussy.

You kissed her thighs previously before sinking your face against her area, making her moan louder than ever. Your tongue moved fiercely against her pussy folds as Irene's screams filled the room.

"Don't stop, don't even dare to stop."

You were giving your best to make her feel good. Her moans, screams, and bad words only motivated you to continue doing this with more intensity. Having your tongue a rest, you quickly replaced it with your fingers, masturbating her with all your strength.

"Holy fuuuuuck, I’m cuming!" She screamed, curving her back and, once again, squirting a lot from her pussy, messing part of the edge of the bed and the bedroom floor.

She had now difficulty breathing correctly, and her chest was up and down again, trying to calm herself. Your fingers once again caressed her pussy, this time doing it so slowly. You approached to kiss her once again.

"Irene"

You called, so both of you noticed your penis fully recovered, ready for more rounds. She smiled at you, turning around, remaining face down, then you stared at her trained ass.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? Fuck me".

Your penis got excited hearing those words. You stood up immediately to stand behind her. Grabbing her hips and aligning yourself with her pussy, inserting your entire length at once into Irene's pussy.

"God, you're so tight." You moaned, starting to thrust into her.

"Yes, fuck, stretch my fucking pussy with your big cock."

"Holy shit, Mrs. Bae."

You increased your thrusts, making everything more and more primitive, to the point that your balls were colliding with her hips every time you buried your length inside her.

Irene couldn't stop moaning and screaming, grabbing the bedsheets with her hands while moving her hips to give more depth to your moves.

You didn't hesitate to grab one of her ass cheeks tightly with one of your hands and then give her a slap that echoed through the room and made the woman scream. You repeated it a few more times, having the same result.

"This is what you wanted, right? A witch like you just wanted to be fucked this hard."

One more spank to her already red ass, drove Irene crazy.

"Yes! Fuck yes, fuck me please! Don't stop now! Use my witch pussy however you want."

You kissed her neck from behind and ran your tongue down her back as your hips moved at a constant pace for a longer period of time.

"Wait." she said between moans. "I want to see you."

You took out your cock off her, allowing her to turn around, giving her another passionate kiss, you took her hips and brought her closer to the edge of the bed, sitting there, she opened her legs for you.

You entered inside her again, resuming your task of fucking her hard, Irene wrapped her arms around your head, moving a little on the bed, allowing you to fuck her deeper.

"So fucking deep." She sighs, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, she met your eyes, making her blush a bit. You didn't ignore it and brought your lips closer to hers, touching them but not kissing her.

"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to cum." She took your face in her hands, smiling.

"Inside me, until the last drop… I need it."

That was the last thing you needed, Irene hugged you and in a last effort you fucked her harder than ever until you shot all your cum inside her pussy, making both of you reach an orgasm. Both of you really had made a mess.

Irene laid on the bed, still shaking, with one of her arms covering her face. You laid to next to her, looking directly at her.

"Don't worry, today is a safe day."

"That’s fine of course but wasn't my real concern."

Irene lowered her arm and stared at you for a few moments, her eyes widening as if she had forgotten the reason of this. He pretended to cough in an attempt to hide her mistake by sitting back on the bed.

"Yes, about that… You did your part, so I'll do mine, and I promise I won't say anything about what happened here."

Feeling a big relief at that moment, you didn't say anything more than "thank you" to get out of bed in search of your work clothes. You had a schedule to complete.

"I will stay here for a few days because of work."

You left your shirt half buttoned to watch as Irene leaned against the door frame, now wearing a bathrobe from the bathroom.

"Maybe you can offer me this special service again." Her mischievous smile made your face get one, too. "I am at your total disposal, Mrs. Bae."

[humanpurposes]

De Jure

In light of a recent scandal, she finds herself becoming part of Aemond's plan for the future- Part 2 to De Facto.

PM!Aemond x unnamed female character

Main Masterlist // AO3

Warnings: 18+, smut, politics (putting my degree to good use), questionable power dynamics, manipulation, dub con/non con elements, baby trapping

Words: 4121

A/n: He looked too good at the New York premiere and I couldn't help myself :)

A strange feeling seems to follow her around Hightower House, like there are eyes on her, like everyone around her is watching her, like they know something.

It’s plausible enough that Aemond likes to keep her behind late most nights because he trusts her, more so than the other staff. There’s always something they need to talk through, some crisis that needs solving, some issue they can form a preemptive strategy for. Mostly “crisis resolution” comes in the form of him bending her over the desk and tearing through her tights, or having her on her knees with his hands in her hair and his cock slipping between her lips.

Aemond is precise, attentive, relentless. He leaves her stunned and satisfied in a way that the wanting never satiates itself. 

Then there are the occasional glances, the sparse touches, his hand on her back when he walks into a room, his hand on her thigh under a desk, in the back of a car.

He’s careful to act inconspicuously around others, but there’s something about the way Maris glares at her, the way Alys watches her with her brows raised.

What if they know? How could they? How could they not?

Then she starts to get noticed by Otto Hightower. He’s a formidable figure in Hightower House, notorious for expecting the best from the staff, for his bluntness, his restrained but short temper, his intolerance for anything less than perfection– this is the man who made Aemond Targaryen the political force that he is after all.

After Aemond’s success in de-escalating the Aegon situation, Otto Hightower had personally pulled her aside and commended her. “Aemond said he wouldn’t have been able to pull it together if it weren’t for you.”

She’d been rather stunned that Aemond would mention her to his grandfather. 

“Just doing my bit for the party,” she’d said.

He nodded his head at that, mouth poised in something like a smile.

She never has plans on a Friday night these days. She’s working through some polls, anxiously waiting for Aemond to finish a meeting with the inner circle, Otto, Cole and Alicent.

Alys is watching her between glances at her laptop, the same red lipstick on her lips, an eerie white light illuminating her face from the screen. Her nails tap against the keys and the surface of the desk when she pauses to think, to stare.

“What?” she says sharply, weeks of patience wearing thin.

Alys smirks to herself before slowly closing the lid of her laptop. “It seems as though something’s bothering you.”

A panicked feeling hums in her chest. She was too harsh. Her reaction was too obvious. “No, I’m fine,” she mutters.

“I thought you might be tired, you know, with all the overtime Mr Taragryen has you doing.”

She tries to laugh it off, to smile and shake her head, but her mouth feels stiff.

“Maris thinks he likes you.” Alys leans back in her chair, twirling a pen between her fingers.

“No more than he likes anyone else, I’m sure.”

One of Alys’ eyebrows lifts. With a short humming sound in her throat her lips break into another smile that bares her teeth. “Between us, I think Maris has a crush on him. It was cute at first but now I think she looks a little desperate…”

Desperate. What does that make her?

“... I think he likes you because you’re good at your job, but then sometimes it’s like he goes out of his way to ignore you. I thought he might be doing it to make the rest of us feel better.”

They stare at each other, locked in a silent dare. She feels her chest moving with her breath, her heart drumming under her skin. 

“I think you’re reading into things,” she says, wincing at how dry her throat is.

Alys’ smile is gone now. She has this certain look, it can be unassuming and yet unnervingly intense. But they go back to their respective tasks. She looks like she has another thought brewing in her head, but she is interrupted by the ringing on the phone on her desk.

She picks it up instantly. “Hello, sir. Yes, sir. I’ll send her through now.”

The meeting isn’t over yet, the others would have passed the office on their way out. She tries not to stand too eagerly, taking her time as she collects the papers in front of her and picks up her phone– but what if Alys thinks she’s moving too slowly? She resists the urge to tut at herself or fiddle with the fabric of her skirt.

She has to walk by Alys’ desk to get to the door, and the thought fills her with dread, like she’ll be able to see right through her head and read every thought.

“Wait,” Alys calls as she hovers in the open doorway. 

She turns to face her.

“He’s sweet,” Alys says, “and too gorgeous for his own good, but the Hightowers are opportunists.”

She knows that. The whole country knows that. For a generation, Westerosi politics has been nothing but a game between the Greens and the Blacks, a rivalry that started when Otto Hightower’s daughter caught the eye of Viserys Targaryen.

“You’re a smart girl,” Alys says. “Be careful.”

The walk to Aemond’s office feels longer than usual. The closed door feels more daunting. She taps her knuckles against it three times and pauses for a moment, until she hears his voice telling her to enter. 

The days are growing shorter and the sun is already setting, a warm glow bleeding in through the tall windows. The light makes Aemond’s hair appear more golden than silver. He’s sitting on the sofa, suit jacket open, tie discarded, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, hair dishevelled, like he’s been running his hands through it.

Criston Cole is sat in an armchair and nods to her when she walks in. Otto Hightower sits with his back to the door, Alicent beside him.

They’ve been in here for hours, the table between them is covered in empty coffee cups and newspapers with bold headlines. Some have moved on from the Aegon scandal, others have not.

She looks to Aemond for an instruction.

He beckons her with a single finger, anticipation already pooling in her belly despite their company. She stands beside him, hovering by the arm of the sofa where Aemond leans against his elbow, clutching her papers close to her chest.

Otto greets her by name. She’s rather proud of how far she’s come since her first day, scared to even step foot in his office.

He and Cole continue to discuss the Duskendale by-election which will inevitably take place in light of Aegon’s removal. Otto says this will be an opportunity for the Blacks to capitalise on the scandal, win themselves another seat in Parliament and put pressure on the Greens, on Aemond. Alicent listens all the while, picking at her fingernails.

“Rhaenyra will pick someone close to her, someone charismatic,” Otto says, looking directly at her. 

Why would he do that, does he expect a note to be taken on the conversation?

Aemond’s hand appearing on her waist takes her by surprise. She stares down at him wide-eyed at his carelessness. He doesn’t seem worried as he gently pulls her down to sit on the arm of the sofa. His arm stays wrapped around her back, his hand slotting into the curve of her body, his thumb tracing circles against her shirt. 

She tries to look at Otto and Cole without drawing too much attention to herself, but they don’t seem surprised at Aemond’s little display of affection. Alicent stares at them passively.

“Who in the Black Party has any charisma?” Cole says dryly. “She’s hardly got any allies left.”

“Jacaerys,” Otto says.

Cole scoffs. “He’s fresh out of uni.”

“He’s young but he has appeal,” Alicent says. “Certainly more than Aegon ever did.” She says it so gently but with no hesitation.

“And a good speaker,” Aemond adds, “people respond to him, he’s likeable.”

One more question remains, a ceaseless itch in her brain, as distracting as Aemond’s hand clinging to her body. She clears her throat softly. “Who’s our candidate going to be?”

Aemond’s grip on her waist tightens and he looks up at her, dying sunlight beaming over his face, catching on the tip of his nose, the curve of his lip, the lines of his jaw. “We’ve been discussing that.”

She hates this, feeling like she’s a step behind everyone else in the room. She looks up at the faces of Otto and Cole. Aemond has a sister, Helaena, but she stays away from public life. His younger brother, Daeron, is still studying. There are also plenty of Hightower cousins, people already in their inner circle. 

“If we are all in agreement,” Otto says, fixing his suit jacket as he stands. “Come, Alicent.”

Aemond’s mother has always been a glamorous woman, younger than she appears. It’s not something she’s ever noticed before but she has such a solemn look about her, wide brown eyes and fallen lips. 

Aemond stands to kiss her on both cheeks. “Thank you,” he says, softly, still loud enough for her to hear it.

“I trust your judgement,” she says.

With that the three of them leave the room and Aemond closes the door behind her.

She’s still sitting unsurely on the arm of the sofa, resisting the urge to dig her fingernails into the leather.

Aemond turns to face her. He slips off his suit jacket and places it carefully on the coat hanger by the door. He takes measured steps towards the sofa. “I have something to tell you. Sit down.”

Her stomach drops at the sinisterly soft tone of his voice, but she does as he says, slipping from the arm to the sofa itself, only to find she cannot sit comfortably. The back isn’t quite in the right place, the seat is too soft, like she’s melting into it. She tries to sit with her back straight, her legs crossed, her hands in her lap and her head held high as he approaches her.

By now she thinks she has a good read of him, the subtleties in his expressions, the hints into his mind. She can’t read him now. He looks at her with excitement, with something softer, with a look of hunger and lust. But she can tell that he’s far too happy with himself.

“You look nervous. Are you nervous?” he says, undoing the buttons on his cuffs and pulling them up to bare his hands, the muscles and tendons of his forearms.

“Well, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s exciting, I promise.”

Exciting to him, clearly.

“Alright,” she says.

Aemond stands before her and smiles, only for a moment. Usually, in this position, he’d reach out for her cheek, maybe he’d lean down to kiss her.

He just looks at her, with amusement, wonder, curiosity, perhaps even pride. With a small hum to himself, Aemond says, “we need a candidate for Duskendale.”

“So I’ve heard,” she says, quietly but defiantly. 

“I want it to be you.”

She feels her eyes go wide. The room feels cold and close. She can hear Aemond breathing through his nose, slow and steady.

After a few moments of silence, Aemond says, “what do you think?” 

It takes her too long to find her breath. “You suggested it to Otto?”

“Yes. He and my mother agree, you’ll be perfect.”

Heat flushes in her face. She feels an urge to laugh, or cry, or grab him by the shoulders and ask him why in seven fucking hells he thinks this would be a good idea.

But then this is what she’s always wanted. This is why she studied so relentlessly, spent hours and hours in the library pouring over textbooks, why she gave up sleep to meet her deadlines, missed meals to afford rent in Sunspear, dedicated so much of herself to the extra work, all so she could have the very job Aemond is offering her on a silver platter.

It would be worth it, wouldn’t it? Knowing she could actually make a difference to the world that seemed determined to have her fail.

What if she asks him “why?” What if she gives him a reason to doubt her and he snatches that chance away?

She barely registers Aemond’s hands closing around hers before he pulls her up to stand. His forehead and his nose rest against hers, his breath warm over her skin. His lips are almost upon hers but he doesn’t move to kiss her, he keeps her waiting and restless.

“They’ve all agreed,” he mutters, “we need someone with no history, no scandals, nothing that could be held against us, not after the mess Aegon’s made.”

She pauses, pulling back a little so they can meet eye to eye. “You want me because I won’t embarrass you?”

Aemond tilts his head. “I want you because you’re the best option.” He leans in again, pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead, then her temple, then her cheek. “You’d be a perfect fit, you’re intelligent, you’re meticulous, you don’t miss details and you’re unafraid to speak your mind.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth but she turns her head. “I want to feel like I’ve earned it,” she utters.

Aemond’s mouth trails to her neck instead, kissing her firmly. “You have earned it,” he says, his hands moving to her waist, squeezing her, claiming her. His touch roams over the rest of her body while he kisses her neck, her thighs, her rear, anything he can reach. 

It’s dangerous how she responds when his hands are in the right place, and he knows it. But she reaches for his wrists to make him stop when he starts to tug on the waist of her skirt with his fingers.

“Is that what you think this is,” she says, “do you think I’m only trying to get a career out of you?”

Aemond frowns.

“Do you think I want to be remembered as some shallow opportunist? Is that all you think I deserve?”

When he hums it catches in the back of his throat. He makes a small pout with his lips, the way he often does when he’s thinking. 

“You have an opportunity to do something remarkable here,” he says, his voice low and chilling as he takes her chin in his fingertips. “Look at all the work you’ve done for me already, why deny yourself the chance to do more?”

It doesn’t have to be a denial, does it? Saying no to him would only mean she could take a different path, her own path, on her terms. Unless this is it. Unless she says no and this is the end of everything.

His fingertips press into her jaw, as if his patience is wearing thin with every passing moment.

She looks into his single violet eye and the sapphire prosthetic set in his left socket, determined to stand her ground. “Not like this,” she says.

Aemond tuts. “Are you worried you won’t get in? You’ll get the seat, I’ll make sure you do. You’ll get the career you’ve wanted for so long, you’ll get everything you’ve worked for.” There’s desperation in his voice, something familiar and yet primal. His thumb gently strokes over her cheek to her lower lip. “I’ll keep you with me. Wouldn’t you like that?”

Reason slips from her mind and something dangerous tightens in her gut. “What do you mean–”

Her question ends up muffled against his lips as Aemond kisses her, deeply and desperately, pulling her into him, closer and closer.

She holds her hands up and the only place for her palms to go is against his chest so she can feel his heat and his heartbeat through his shirt. She parts her lips, welcoming his tongue and his teeth, welcoming the way he consumes her.

“Once you’re in Parliament we can make things official,” he mutters between their kisses.

He goes in to kiss her again and she pulls back. “What?”

He huffs impatiently, taking her face in both his hands. “I need someone reliable by my side, someone like you. It’ll be good for my image, and for the party, to appeal to family values.”

She feels herself scowling. “Did your grandfather tell you that?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he says teasingly,

“What about all the work I’ve done already? I can’t give everything up?”

“What would you be giving up?”

Infuriatingly, her mind is suddenly blank.

Through the windows behind them, the sun is setting lower and lower in the sky, the golden rays only shining brighter as night creeps in. The world is as it was when they first met. Aemond’s eye burns in the light, his eye that has bored into hers as he’s pushed her over the threshold of bliss, that finds her across crowded rooms, that must have seen every inch of her skin. 

“We’ll announce an engagement before you’re confirmed as our candidate,” he says. He comes to kiss her gently. The moment could almost feel tender, if he were not seeking to uproot her entire life. “You’re perfect,” he whispers against her lips. “Say yes to me, please, I need you to say yes.”

It’s easy to get lost in Aemond Targaryen, in his intensity, in his rare offerings of praise and approval. Her arms find their way around his neck, pulling herself into him, absentmindedly rocking her hips against his. His promises excite her as much as they terrify her.

“Say it,” he purrs, his voice catching in his throat as he walks her back. “I need an answer from you.”

The backs of her knees hit the edge of the sofa. She takes a moment to breathe and find her bearings.

Aemond’s eye is hooded and dark, his lips pressed together. She can feel it all simmering under the surface, his hunger, his desperation.

He needs her. He cannot lose this seat to the Blacks, he can’t give them space to challenge him. He can’t let Aegon’s indiscretions overshadow everything he’s been working towards. The Greens need to purge themselves of this damning image, they need a clean slate, and they’re willing to put her in the centre of government to get it.

“I’ll do it,”

His kiss is harsh when he captures her lips again, needy and commanding as he grabs at her waist.

She lets out a breath of surprise when he positions her to lay back on the sofa without parting from her. He’s over her, pressing her into the plush leather, a firm hold trailing from her neck, her wrists, her sides, her breasts through her blouse.

He undoes the buttons slowly, kissing the exposed parts of her flesh of her chest and stomach. When he has the blouse off completely he makes quick work of undoing her bra, discarding that to move his attention to her breasts. He toys with her nipples with his thumbs, lips and tongue until she’s writhing beneath him. She can already picture the bruises that will bloom in his wake.

He’s slow with her skirt too, she can hardly stand it, feeling the fabric and his fingertips dragging down her legs. With her shoes removed, Aemond sits back on his haunches and wraps his hands around one of her ankles, smirking as he strokes small circles over a sensitive spot of her skin.

“Please,” she utters, reaching her fingers out to graze his stomach, still hidden underneath a perfectly white shirt.

“I know, I know,” he coos, hooking his fingers in her panties to pull them from her legs. “I just like seeing you like this.

He wastes no more time, placing her ankle over his shoulder, spreading her other knee with a wide palm and leaning down until his face is between her legs. He knows to start slowly, to tease her with slow drags through her folds. It’s an infuriating feeling but she savours it. It’s the burn she loves, being dragged towards pleasure like a continual tide lapping at the shore.

She craves these unhurried moments, and she supposes there will only be more once Aemond gets his way.

His motions increase in speed when her breath quickens and she starts to squirm, with whispered mumblings of “please… I’m so close… please.” He borders on frantic, hums of approval vibrating against her centre.

It builds and builds until it releases a bloom of warmth in her belly that soon fades back into need when Aemond untangles himself from her. She watches him undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt, as he unbuckles his belt and yanks it from the loops in his slacks. He bares himself to her. There’s no pride this time, just awe when he looks at her.

He positions himself above her, running the tip of his cock, already hard and leaking, against her, pushing against her clit with every gentle thrust.

She holds onto his arms for leverage, letting herself succumb to the sensation, the smell of his aftershave and his sweat, the heat and the sound of their breaths in unison.

“I mean it,” he says with a sigh, “I think you’re perfect.”

She smiles, planting a peck against his lips, before she slides a hand between their bodies and positions him at her entrance. She’s taken him enough times but the initial stretch has her gritting her teeth. 

Aemond stills. “We can–”

“I want to take it,” she utters, “I want to feel you,”

His resolve melts, but he doesn’t push further, waiting for a nod from her before he inches himself deeper inside her.

Their bodies mould against each other, her arms around his shoulders, his head nestled into her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he pants. She watches him thrusting into her, chasing his own pleasure as he nudges against a spot inside her that leaves her feeling weightless. 

He tries to increase his pace, but the back of the sofa hinders him somewhat. He grunts in frustration, gathering her in his arms and moving them both to the fur rug on the floor with ease. He brings her legs onto his shoulders and pushes into her once more, to the hilt, eliciting a gasp from her.

He chuckles to himself, showing his teeth and licking his lips. “You like that?”

“Yeah, fuck,” she breathes.

“Know you like it when I’m nice and deep,” he mutters, fucking her with swift snaps of his hips. With one hand on the floor he takes a gentle hold of her neck with the other, leaning in so her thighs are pressed against her chest. “My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

Her second climax is within reach, she feels the heat rising inside of her, her hips trying to buck but she’s caged by him.

Aemond’s hold on her neck tightens. “You’re close,” he says with a wicked smile on his lips.

Her back arches from the floor, head thrown back in ecstasy. “Don’t stop,” she pleads, “please don’t fucking stop…”

She clings to him, each one of them at the other’s mercy.

“I’ve got you,” Aemond says, continuing to drive his hips against hers. He must be reaching his own end, his pace is starting to falter, his moans unrestrained. 

Usually he makes a habit of spilling himself over her body, her stomach or her thighs.

“Aemond?” she breathes.

“You’ll take what I give you, won’t you?” he says, “you’re mine now, we might as well get a head start.”

The realisation makes her stomach drop. “Wait–” she tries to murmur between her whines, “you can’t– not yet–”

He leans in to kiss her, to soothe her, to silence her.

He comes with a guttural groan, his hips stilling against her and a warmth spreading inside of her. Her own pleasure erupts after that, she can feel herself clenching around him, her body greedy for everything he has to offer her.

Aemond stays pressed against her for a moment, his heart hammering in his chest. He withdraws from her slowly, bringing her legs down– she sees the way his eye lingers between her legs, something hot and wet dripping from within her. He gathers it with the tip of his cock, pushing himself into her again with short, shallow thrusts.

He takes her by her neck again, demanding her attention.

She gazes back at him, breathless, wide-eyed.

“There’s my good girl,” he coos. “With any luck we’ll have a due date to announce alongside your victory in Duskendale.”

[manmuncher777]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ Aemond Targaryen x Wife!reader ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐇𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 - 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝

𝐌𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!!

The buckles of his leather riding gear jingled gently with every step that the young prince took. the sound reminding him that his duties had forced him to put on the cursed outfit and leave you this morning. His pace was fast, trying to keep up with the need to see you. He’d needed you right now. This is one of those times when you are the only one who is able to calm him, not riding vhagar, not training with cole. He just needed your touch.

If he had to sit through another small council meeting with those fools he was sure that he was going to explode, they were so unbelievably stupid. Catering to his brother and his foolish wants. He could never understand how anyone could see him as king. His mind raced with frustrations of the day, not allowing him to relax. He paced through the halls of the castle, a small breath releasing from him when he finally comes across the door to your shared chambers. He just hoped you were in there

His slender hands knock a few times before slowly pushing open the wooden structure, he looked in to see you. His beautiful wife. There you were, sat so perfectly at your vanity, brushing your silk hair, your deft fingers working any tangles the day had made out of your locks. Your eyes flutter as you look at Aemond through the mirror, a delicate smile gracing your features. “hello husband”

He looks and feels relieved when he sees you, like a weight was already being removed from him, slowly he took a few steps into your dimly lit chambers. It was like you had charmed him, all he ever wanted to do was watch you. He stared shamelessly as you stood in your nightgown, making your way over to him; bare feet gently padding against the stone flooring.

Every worry that was previously on his mind now disappeared as he watched you, gods you were beautiful. You were not from this earth for that Aemond could be sure.

“Hello wife” he whispered to you gently as you stood in front of him, his frame looming over yours. His black leathers a stark contrast to your pale nightgown.

It was like you knew without him ever having to say anything, you took his large hand in yours leading him over to the side of the bed, sitting him there while you unbuckled his shoes first, helping him remove them before starting on the rest of his clothing until he was left in nothing but his linens. The candle light illuminated him so perfectly you thought. You never understood how you were lucky enough to have married a dragon.

You stared at him for a moment admiring how his beautiful hair framed his face so delicately, how the scar on his eye did not take away from his looks, but added to them. Added a sense of mystery and intrigue. It was only on nights like this that he would remove his eyepatch and allow you to see him. Slowly your lifted one of your hands to his face, thumb running over the strap of the patch gently, a silent beg for his permission to remove it. He nodded gently, and your fingers pulled it away gently, setting it aside before looking at him again. He was not from this earth you could be sure. The sapphire eye glistened in the candle light, the orange of the flame bouncing off of the surface. Ever since the first time Aemond allowed you to view his scar, sapphire had become your favourite gemstone, all of your jewellery incorporating it one way or another.

You were sat on the floor I between his legs as he sat above you on the bed, one of his hand caressing your face lightly, thumb running over your lips. He missed their feel yet it was only that morning you had kissed him goodbye. He pulled you up, onto the bed swiftly. His hunger taking over him now.

He had you on your back now, his strong arms framing the sides of your face as he kept himself hovering above you, his lips ensaring yours in a searing kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. His body now pushing into yous, moulding with yours. You two were one of the same, two half’s of a whole and he knew this. Your delicate fingers now lustful as you grabbed at the back of his shirt, tugging at It as small whimpers left your mouth, begging for it to be removed. A light chuckle left your husbands mouth as he released from the kiss to remove his shirt, throwing it across. “Patience little one”

his fingers trailed up your thighs, tracing the smooth curve of your flesh. The flesh he had gripped so lustfully many times before, flesh that held the memory of every encounter the two of you have had together. He loved how well your skin took to all the marks he left. For days after he would still be able to see what he had done to you, bite marks, love bites, bruises and gentle scratches from his blade. Your obedience knew no bounds, how willing you were to let him have his way with you. That’s why he loved you so much. You had the perfect dynamic between you.

The further up his hands moved, they caught the fabric of your sheer nightgown. Slowly bringing up your body, revealing your woman hood, then your breasts before it was also thrown across the room somewhere.

A slight gasp left your mouth due to the chill of the night air, and Aemond’s eyes darkened as he watched your nipples harden in the cold air, he bent down slowly taking one of the buds in his mouth. His hands gripping at your breasts softly, massaging the skin. Your hands resting on your husbands head, who’s toungue was rolling over your sensitive nipple. The soft licks making you squirm under him, breathy whimpers leaving your throat as you feel the slick growing between your legs. Your husband must have been aware of this too as you feel his fingers tracing over your heat. Every now and then swiping through your folds. Your hips bucking as you feel him shadowing over your clit, denying the sensitive bud the attention it craves. Your skin blazing with goosebumps, no longer due to the temperature of the room, but the reaction your husbands touch inflicted on you. It was as if every sense you had was heightened. You were made to feel his touch. “oh my lady, who has gotten you all worked up?” The smugness radiating off of him, you didn’t even need to be looking at home to know he was smirking. He removed himself from your breasts now, focusing his attention on your dripping cunt that his fingers were teasing the entrance of.

“you, my lord” you whispered out, your voice reduced now to a pathetic moan, you didn’t even bother to hide the effect he had on you.

A slight chuckle left his body at your eager answer before he finally granted himself the pleasure of delving into your tight cunt, his finger stretching you open so deliciously, prepping you for what was to come. Instinctively one of your hands flew to your husbands forearm, trying to slow his relentless pace. Your attempts were futile as the waves of pleasure took over you body. Despite biting your lips, there was no silencing the moans leaving your mouth, your husband knew exactly how you worked, and he knew exactly how to leave you screaming for more. He watched with a blaze in his stare as you eyes drift shut, your eyebrows knit together and your mouth hung slightly open.

His cock strained against the linens he wore. Feeling you wrapped so tightly around his fingers was sending him crazy, gods only know how he will react when I he finally gets his cock inside you. He can see in your movements that you were close to finishing, but on this particular evening, he only wants you finishing on his cock. Gently he removes his fingers from you cunt, a small pout replacing you euphoric features as he rids you of your climax. Your sulking soon cut-short by an imperious look from Aemond, daring you to misbehave over this.

HIs fingers, still glistening with your wetness move quickly to remove the final peace of clothing preventing him from ravaging you. Thrown once more are the linen trousers before Aemond is on top of you one more, lining his hard cock up with your entrance.

Your eyes flutter to shut once more as you await the pleasure your about to experience, but your husband doesn’t enter you, instead you feel a hand resting around your throat, fingers squeezing oh so gently at you.

“eyes on me, wife”

Obeying your husbands command, your eyes open to meet his, the sight of your husband on top of you was almost too much to bear; in the moment, he entered you the hilt swiftly. Both of you simultaneously letting out a moan.

Every time Aemond fucked you it was like the first time, that slightly burn at being so full was a feeling you soon grew to love. A reminder that your husbands cock was the only cock you would ever need. after what felt like an eternity had passed, Aemond’s hips began to rock back and forth, he loved to start of gently, allowing you to get used to his size before he fully had his way with you. Already you were moaning like a whore that belonged on the streets of silk, but you did not care. You had to let your husband know what a good job he was doing at pleasing you.

His grip still around your throat now tightened slightly with his movements. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the prince, your dragon. His hair sparkled in the candle light as he pristine into you now, his paced quickening, his thrusts becoming stronger. All of the hunger he had felt throughout the day was now being conveyed through his fucking. All the pent up stress, all of the hours spent missing you he could now show you.

His cock glided in and out of your walls with such an ease, you were soaked for your husband. Guttural moans left Aemond’s chest every, the sound of your skin meeting his echoed from the walls of your chambers. You struggled to follow the command to keep your eyes on him for all you wanted to do was let them roll back, let them close with the pleasure he was giving you. Your body felt like it was on fire, perhaps it was rather fitting as you were fucking a dragon. All you were able to do was lay there and take it, but you certainly were bothered by that.

“such a good little wife for me, taking my cock so well” Aemond grunted into you ear, knowing what his voice did to you when you were like this.

“Aemond, my lord please!” you cried out, a moan leaving you with every harsh thrust he delivered. You were quite sure for what you were begging, but all you knew is that you didn’t want this feeling to end

“please what? my love”

‘More Aemond, please” Your mind slowly melting now, that was the effect Aemond would often have on you, to the point where all you could do was beg. your climax rising from your belly, you knew you wouldnt be able to hold on much longer

“such a greedy thing you are wife” He mocked from above you, giving into your request. His hand leaving your throat, however your gaze never faltering from his. His fingers now gracing your swollen clit, moving over in quick circles, pushing you even closer to your edge. Aemond could read it in your face he knew you so well. Focusing now on getting you to cum was all he needed. he didn’t care about his own release - despite how divine your cunt felt squeezing him just right.

HIs fingers never slowed as your hips chased your high

“That’s it my love, cum for me” hy is voice rung lowly in your ears, and his gentle encouragement was all you needed to feel yourself rolling over the edge of euphoria. For that brief moment you allow your eyes to fall shut as your body tightens, your legs stretching out as you scream aemonds nam. HE watched in awe as pleasure was all he could see on your face. His movements never stopping, carrying you through every second of your high and finally delivering him to his own

You tightened around him so perfectly as you came in caused Aemond release, hips stuttering as he grunted out your name. He pushed himself deep inside you, spilling his hot seed. Thick ropes of his cum filled you and in that moment you had never been happier.

contented sighs leave both of your lips as your lie with each other, Aemond’s body resting ontop of yours, glistening slightly with the sheen of sweat you both had gained from your activities

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 6

previous part

tw: gore, violence, blood, ghost makes a return ooo, please be warned! <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Simon had never felt such a boiling rage to the point his blood was bubbling, ready to explode out of his body and paint the walls of your apartment a crimson red that would stain the chipped-away white with messy splatters. It simmered hotly beneath his scarred skin, sifting through his veins like wildfire and egging him into dangerous territory.

He was no saint. He killed people for a living. He took the money of pathetic, lowly people who had the coldness in their heart to request his favor in killing somebody they didn’t like. Lawyers, CEOs, big name people who ate with the silver spoon embedded in their teeth and tainted their smiles with a greedy unnerve.

So no, Simon was no saint.

But he’d certainly ruin any chances of redemption when he got his hands on the coward who’d brought you harm.

Simon didn’t need payment to seek him out. He didn’t need a stack of cash waved in his face, or a bank transfer notified on his phone.

All he needed was to see the pretty girl in tears and blood, lying broken on the floor like a toy, used and tossed aside – worthless, undeserving. His pretty girl.

You were enough to tear down the concrete walls he’d encased around himself, built with his own bare hands. You were enough to wake the flame in his soul, to remind him just what he was capable of.

Simon was tired of killing those who did nothing to him. Sure, many deserved it, but they hadn’t done anything to him. He was a mediator. A spectator. He was a part of a story as a side character, only rising from the shadows to cut that story short and end it with bloodshed and a transaction. Their pages were quipped, torn from the spine of the book with no prospect of a completed ending.

Now, the plotline had changed.

He had the upper hand in this story. He was able to rewrite it without the complications of another’s orders. And he’d be damned if he didn’t tear the man who hurt you right out of the pages.

Simon didn’t want to leave you. He knew how disoriented you were from the fists that had put you through torment – torment he wasn’t there to protect you from. You were dazed and lost, hanging on by the thin of a wire that Simon was the one desperately clinging to.

When he had patched you up and put you to bed, he waited until you succumbed to the exhaustion and fell asleep for him to strike.

He was a man on a mission. A dog off its leash. His nose flared from under his mask as if he was a damn K-9 tracking down his suspect.

He searched through the entirety of your apartment, tearing it to bits in order to find a hint, a clue. All he needed was one quick search of your phone through your blocked numbers to find what he needed.

There was no contact name. No indication of who this man could be.

But a phone number was enough, and when he texted it to Gaz with the demand of finding it out for him, it wouldn’t be long until your ex-boyfriend would be another name on a crumbling gravestone.

Gaz was quick to find him the information. No questions asked, and that’s why Simon loved working with him. He minded his own, and trusted him to complete a job alone. He was good at tracking information for Simon, good at all that he did, and he was sure as hell good at picking up on the signs that Simon was involved in something, or someone that made him bend the fabrics of reality for them.

The name left a bitter taste in Simon’s mouth.

Phillip Graves. American. Bastard with a sharp tongue and a cockiness that’ll get him killed.

Ghost could make that happen.

The man walking down the streets, prowling with a threatening cloud of smoke around him wasn’t Simon.

Simon was the one who tucked you into bed, who wiped off every dot of blood that tainted your pretty skin. He was the one who watched over you in the corners of the night, making sure you got home safe, making sure you were keeping up your end of the deal.

He was the one who you baked pastries for, and didn’t have the heart to tell you he didn’t have a sweet tooth. He stuffed his mouth full of every single crumb despite the fact, just to see you smile.

He was the one who thought you were beautiful at first glance, and didn’t have the capacity to take your money and rid the world of a human being carved like a piece of art in a mausoleum. He was selfish, and he wanted you.

The man in the reflection of every store window as he strode by was Simon no more. Simon was gone, tucked away in the back corner and replaced by the brute of a man he’d been before you.

You were Simon’s religion, his reason for salvation. He’d bow at every altar, pray to every God with his blood stained hands clasped in a plea, just to worship you – but Ghost wasn’t a religious man, and he garnered no peace from anyone. Not even you.

Simon was the one who would protect you. Ghost was the one who would kill for you.

All Ghost had on the screen of his phone besides a name, was an address. It was a temporary one, judging from how recent your ex had moved into it, and the thought of it caused his teeth to grit in annoyance.

The fucker was staying close to you, with intentions so sick it could only make Ghost’s fire burn into grueling embers. He was stalking you, tracking you down, plotting.

Ghost knew exactly what he needed to do to ensure your safety. He made a promise to you, a promise that he hadn’t vocalized but rather slipped in when he made that deal with you. It was written in small lettering, so small so you’d gloss over it and he’d be able to hide away the watchful eye he had on you.

Finding Graves’ apartment was an easy feat. He nearly laughed at how effortless it was to stalk his way up to the apartment building that was somehow even more rundown than yours. But it made sense – Graves wasn’t planning on staying for long, and he was going to flee after latching his grimy hands on you once and for all. He didn’t need a fancy apartment to stalk his claim.

On normal jobs, Ghost was discreet. He’d figure out an alternative for breaking into one’s apartment or home, one that required no curious eyes or witnesses to see. He was quiet, like a shadow moving across the walls in dark anticipation.

This time around, he found himself stomping right up the musty stairwell, boots clattering along every step that creaked beneath his weight. He was an incoming storm the way he clouded over the hallway with impending doom, rain clouds hovering over him with lightning prepared to strike at any given moment.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t wait or stall.

He kicked at the door with the heavy soles on his feet, wallowing in every crack and snap the door made under its sudden force. It withered, flying off of the hinges and slamming up against the wall as it smacked open.

The apartment was a shithole. Messy, cluttered, and uninhabited. Dust collected on every surface, furniture bare from every room, and all that was used was an old mattress with blankets to keep Graves warm from the chill of every night.

Graves stood in the aging kitchen, cooking up something that made Ghost’s nose flare. The bastard didn’t deserve to have an appetite after what he had done to you. He didn’t deserve to use his tongue, didn’t deserve to keep his teeth.

Stood like a deer in headlights, Graves quickly regained his composure, sneering at him with a mock threat made Ghost snort.

“What the fuck?” Graves shouted in a fit of anger, stumbling in the kitchen as he caught himself from the sudden surprise. His narrowed eyes stared Ghost down, taking in every inch of him.

A looming mass with a skull painted mask with eyes that could kill. Graves would be a dead heap on the floor if that was so.

“You,” Ghost spat. He walked slow and dangerous, darkened glare focused on Graves without a single intent of leaving. It was cold, piercing, full of millions of daggers that he wished could mutilate Graves in front of him. “You should’ve gotten a more secure place.”

“The fuck are you talking about? Who are you?”

Graves was tougher than he thought, Ghost had to give him that. He didn’t cower in fear, nor did he try to run like most people did. Ghost was a force to be reckoned with, and looking at him was like looking the Devil himself in the eye.

Ghost continued stalking towards, like a predator to prey, every step calculated. His boots were like hell’s bells ringing as they hefted with every step, stomping clouds of musty dust around his ankles. It was enough to have Graves leaning back, the action so small Ghost would’ve missed it if not for his keen eye and trained skill.

“You touched her,” he stated. His tone was so calm it caused unease to smother the room, suffocating the two of them in a thick cloud. “You hurt her.”

It took a second for Graves to understand, and when he did, he scowled, perfectly aligned teeth just begging to be knocked in. “You’re Simon.”

“Ghost,” he was quick to correct. “Not Simon to you.”

Graves laughed mockingly, the sound more like a scoff as it escaped his thin lips. “Oh, right. She calls you Simon. Little whore, that one is. 

Ghost stopped when he was in front of Graves. He peered down at him with a thirst for blood glimmering in his eyes, locked in on Graves’ own and burning the retinas with the flames that danced around his pupils.

“You hurt her,” Ghost repeated. “I don’t like men who hurt women. Don’t like men like you.”

Graves’ expression soured and he stared up at Ghost with a mix of confusion and offense. He was trying to read Ghost from under the mask, see what was burning in those embers of his, but he only saw rage. A calm, brewing rage that held no remorse and no sympathy for a man like Graves.

“I’m going to rip the flesh off your fucking bones and pluck every single one of those teeth out with my bare hands,” Ghost threatened, and it was only then that Graves showed a single sign of fear. His lips twitched, hands flinching at his sides as if debating on whether or not he could throw a punch at Ghost and scurry his sorry ass away.

Back to his town, far away from this shitty apartment, and far away from you.

He didn’t know Ghost never left a job unfinished. Not until he was left a bloodied, gory mess on the floor of his kitchen, face unrecognizable, tiles stained with the red he had colored your own bathroom the night before when he laid his hands on you like the weak link he was. Graves’ eyes were glossed over, lifeless, staring blankly into the pit of Ghost’s as he took each and every brutal impalement from the kitchen knife Ghost had snatched from the counter.

Ghost didn’t falter, nor did he stop until the fire in him slowed to a stop, leaving behind nothing but ash and debris. He stared down at the man who had hurt you, watched the way his blood seeped into the grout of the tiles like a sponge absorbing water.

It was a picture Ghost never wanted you to see. A side he never wanted you to take a glimpse of in fear of you running.

Ghost wasn’t religious. He didn’t worship you like Simon did. Wouldn’t get on his knees for you and beg for forgiveness for his sins.

Ghost was hungry. Starved. He’d shed the whole town’s blood for you. He’d bury every fucking soul six feet deep if it meant none of them would have a chance to hurt you.

When you woke up from the deep slumber you found yourself in, everything ached. Your body was crying for help as it twisted and stiffened when you sat up in bed.

The apartment was quiet. Cold. Simon was nowhere to be found, nor did he leave you a note when you got up to look for it. The kitchen was void of his presence, void of the banter you two had shared just nights ago when you baked for him and he sat with an admiring gaze.

Last night began to resurface, and your mind flashed you the ghostly images of Graves’ face as he stood over you, lips pulled into a menacing sneer, bitter laughter leaving his lips as he kicked and slashed every part of your body. He didn’t leave a single bit unscathed from the torment, and you felt the weight of it with the way your skin hissed when it tugged or how your nose gasped for air beneath the swelling and ache.

Bile filled your lungs as you replayed the painful memory and recalled every hit and strike he laid upon you. Recalled Simon not answering the phone, not showing up until the damage was done.

Your legs moved before your mind did, and they took you back to that very bathroom where you were nearly left for dead. The contents in your stomach were minimal, and when you emptied them out into the toilet, you were left dry heaving and begging for air. Pangs of grueling pain fluttered in your stomach, and the butterflies that once flew freely had turned into overbearing moths that were desperate to get out.

You didn’t know tears began to flow down your cheeks until they caused your open cuts and wounds to sting. They cascaded in waterfalls, bathing you in a cold, sticky sheen of despair.

Your mind was angry at Simon, but your heart longed for him. The loneliness of the bathroom as the tiles dug into your bruised knees was just an aching emphasis that he wasn’t there to fill that void, to help pick you back up like he’d been doing ever since the two of you met.

Anger you could get over. The hurt of knowing he didn’t answer your call, you could get over.

But the yearning in your heart was something that no amount of anguish could get rid of, for it filled you up like an overflowing glass, pouring and pouring over the rim until you couldn’t take it.

So you waited. And waited. You laid curled up in the same bathroom he found you in the night before, all the way up until he showed – because even if it was late, it was always.

Simon was a mucked up mess when he came ducking into your apartment the same way he left. His hands, covered in dried, cracking red, and his shoulders pulled taut with unfurling tension were the first thing you saw when he entered. His eyes had immediately searched for you, and just like before, willed himself to you like a moth to a flame when he saw you in the bathroom once again.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted softly. His voice sent warmth through your bloodstream, lighting you up from the inside and out. “What’re you doin’ in here?”

Simon crouched to your level, lifting a hand to grace it across your features before it froze up and dropped away when the sight of red reminded him of the sins etched into his skin. The sins performed by Ghost, with Simon seeking redemption.

“You weren’t here when I woke up,” you sniffled, a pathetic sound leaving your mouth, almost like a hiccup. It shattered Simon’s heart and buried a knife through the arteries.

“M’sorry sweetheart. M’here now, I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he promised, and blood be damned, he wanted to touch you, to reach out to you and cradle him in his loving light.

So he did.

You didn’t flinch away when he shoved aside his worries and placed calloused hands on each side of your face. You stilled, melting into him like a child would its mother, sinking yourself into the tranquil solace of his touch. It chased your demons away, filling you with angelic purpose.

When you allowed yourself the brief slice of heaven in the form of a man, you worried your gaze on the blood that soaked from his hands and up his tattooed arms, lacing him with a layer of damnation. Your eyes trailed up, slow and unsteady, before reaching his eyes, which were softened and filled with apologies.

“What did you do, Simon?” you asked in a whisper, and for the first time, he flinched as if you burned him.

“I took care of it,” he assured. “I handled it.”

The it being him. The him being Graves.

Simon didn’t go into the details, but he didn’t have to. Given his track record and the reason as to why the two of you met in the first place, you could assume the worst – but really, it was far from it. It was a taste of freedom.

You would no longer have to walk on eggshells, or peek around every corner. You wouldn’t have to remain bound to shackles that were never meant to be chained to you in the first place.

Simon freed you from the demon you were indebted to, and he did so without a single ounce of hesitation or regret. He’d do it all over again if it meant releasing you from hell and showing you a glimpse of heaven. He broke the contract you signed when vulnerable, and freed you from a lifetime of purgatory.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, and he smiled under his mask. You could see the faint imprint of his lips curling up on the edges, and the crows feet that wrinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Nobody hurts my pretty girl. They’ll be sorry if they do.”

My pretty girl. His pretty girl. It was a claim, one that didn’t feel like a trap that will lure you in and sink its teeth into you, but it was also a declaration of his devotion for you. It posed the option to back out, leaving you no longer bound like you were with Graves. A choice.

Your hand moved on its own accord, and it sauntered its way up Simon’s arm. Fingertips brushed along coated and marred skin, until they rested on the bottom of his mask. You heard him inhale a sharp breath, but made no move to stop you, so you continued.

Grasping on the hem of the mask that laid upon his throat, you lightly tugged it up, and up, until blond hair fell in short tufts along his forehead. The mask fell to the floor of the bathroom where you both resided, but that wasn’t what you focused on, no.

You were seeing his face for the first time, all of it. Not just his mouth where he’d nurse a cigarette, or would stuff your crummy pastries. You saw every blemish, every scar, every bit of stubble that poked from his skin. His cheekbones, high on his face, and his eyebrows, thick and unkempt yet soft and lax without a hint of daunt or upset.

The fingers that had taken off his mask with such care slowly traced along his features, grazing the plush of his lips, to the prickle along his jaw that scratched your fingertips in a way that had you smiling.

Simon was unsure why you smiled, but he offered a pleased one back, his shoulders releasing the tension that had stiffened them before.

“You’re pretty, Simon,” you complimented, and your eyes watched his lips as they parted into a laugh. Teeth, aligned and pretty, making him light up the entire room in a luminescent glow.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Thought you were the pretty girl, sweetheart.”

Your smile grew, nearly cracking the cuts littering the skin of your lips.

“Your pretty girl,” you reminded, and he gazed at you in a mix of adoration and amusement.

“My pretty girl,” he repeated.

The way he said it, so sweet and treacly, caused your mind to fuzz over with unrelenting homeliness. This was what it felt like to be loved, to be cherished, to be at home.

“Can you say it again?”

Simon beamed. “My pretty girl.”

You sucked in a breath. “Again.”

He leaned closer, his own fingers cradling the plains of your bruised face and layering the black and blue with tender touches and glimpses of a world where your skin would never feel the tortures of pain again, but rather longing and care.

“My pretty girl,” he repeated one more time, and by the last syllable, his breath was fanning across your face, warming you and nuzzling you with unfathomable fondness. “I really want to kiss you. You know that?”

Your eyes fluttered as you stared at him, feeling those moths transform back into butterflies from the simple weight of his words, swarming you with a never ending fervent.

“Would you do it if I said yes?” you managed to murmur through your newfound shyness.

“I’d be an idiot to ever deny you, sweetheart,” he muttered sweetly, and with no more words needing to be said, he pressed his chapped lips to yours, taking you with such gentle care it left you dizzy.

Home was where Simon went, and to Simon, he’d go with you to the ends of the Earth if it meant you’d follow him.

With close to three days left of your deal, he had high hopes you'd pull through.

posting this and running away (also thank u to my bbg abby for the BAR of a line about you being simons religion I LOVE U)

[ottersandfandoms]

Full Analysis/breakdown of the asmodous crystal exchange because the episode broke me and this is how I cope. Warning: long

So the first shot we have is Stolas sitting on his bed in apprehension, then Blitz jumps up on the balcony. Blitz starts the night off like any other, bringing out his bag of sex toys and just speaking in an unworried manner. Yet we have the sad music playing in the background that lets us know this is temporary. It’s NOT a normal night. Stolas knows this too and he’s just quietly watching.

Stolas finally speaks and he stutters at the beginning. This is really happening. He disregards all the other things Blitz brought and instead just asks for the book.

This is when Blitz first starts noticing something is up. We see a quick shot of his smile dropping. He was all worried about Stolas getting bored of him earlier and wanting the book back and now he began to actually think those fears are being proven true. Even if he doesn’t admit it, Blitz has a big fear of not being wanted and just pushed aside, like he has been for most of his life. 

So when Stolas admits he needs the book back Blitz panics. His fears are true. He begins to hurriedly speak and makes excuses. This book is his livelihood and the reason for his jobs so it makes sense why he is scared of losing it. He leans in and tries to initiate sex. It works every time with Stolas so why wouldn’t it work now? Stolas begins to grow sad. He does want to have sex with Blitz. But he knows that would be unfair so he gets up.

Blitz is terrified. He desperately begs Stolas for the book. Blitz is being put in a vulnerable situation and he doesn’t like it. His whole life could be destroyed if he can’t keep his business afloat. He wouldn’t be able to support himself and couldn’t support Loona. He would “do anything” to keep it.

But then Stolas shows him the crystal. Stolas presents it to him in a happy tone. He tries to be happy and hopeful even though he is clearly still very worried. Maybe everything will be ok. Maybe Blitz will reciprocate Stolas’s feelings and everything will be great.

Blitz thinks Stolas is joking. He doesn’t understand why Stolas would do this. Now his job is safe but his relationship with Stolas is not. His deepest fears are being proven once more. 

He’s not good enough.

He goes into this state of wanting to please.

When Blitz was a child, his dad clearly saw Blitz as the weakling compared with Fizz. And no matter how much Blitz tried to prove himself, it was never enough. “I can do better” is almost juvenile in its phrasing. A desperate plea and promise that might diffuse the situation. Blitz reverts back to his childlike self where he was always last choice and flung aside like he didn’t matter. Imagine how many times he said that exact sentence to his father.

Stolas explains. Stolas actually does a good job of saying what he wants. He is clear and to the point, emphasizing asking what Blitz wants. During Stolas’s speech, Blitz glances back and forth at the crystal, trying to make sense of what’s happening  and then at Stolas. Because he does want to stay. He likes Stolas. If he didn’t care, he would've taken the crystal and left, but he didn’t and chose to stay. Stolas finally just finishes his speech by confessing his feelings. He says them in a frantic way; he is putting himself out there but there is hope there too. 

Blitz thinks he’s joking. Of course he would be. Why could Stolas actually seriously care for him? How could Stolas care for him? The only possible explanation has to be that Stolas is joking. So he puts on a roleplay because he thinks it’s what Stolas wants. He refuses to accept there may be something more.

Stolas takes this as a mocking rejection. His hope has been squashed. Stolas is so used to being mocked that he immediately takes Blitz’s ‘roleplay’ as Blitz making fun of him. Stolas has been mocked by the people, the other Goatia, Stella. Blitz is just another one to add to the list.

He accepts the supposed rejection and walks away. Blitz now realizes he wasn’t joking. He is legitimately surprised that Stolas would want anything true with him. Blitz has this worldview of nobody truly wanting him; finding him useful, sure, but actually wanting him…that would be impossible. Stolas’s confession is a stark blow to that worldview and it makes sense why Blitz needs time to accept this.

This is where Stolas makes his mistake, he doesn’t give Blitz time to think through this. He takes Blitz’s confusion as rejection, not stopping to consider that Blitz is just as scared as he is. His hope is now totally gone. Both Stolas and Blitz are eerily similar in their fears. They both just want to be wanted but where Stolas shrinks away in sadness, Blitz lashes out.

And that's exactly what Blitz does now. And he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t want to deal with his own hurt feelings so he instead blames it all on Stolas, to hide the fact that he may be blaming it on himself. The thing is, most of what Blitz says is true. Stolas repetitively called him a plaything and ‘little imp’ so it makes sense why Blitz doesn’t fully believe him. Blitz has always been the inferior one in his relationships. With Fizz, With Verosika, with Stolas, with countless demons. This has caused him this inferiority complex that he can’t escape. 

Blitz has tears in his eyes and he is truly breaking down. He has spent so long trying to convince himself that Stolas doesn’t care and now suddenly he does? He still hasn’t actually accepted that Stolas cares for him. He can’t accept that and that makes it all more painful. It has to be some lie or game and he is begging Stolas to stop playing. To stop complicating things because that will force Blitz to think about how he feels.

"Let's go!"

Blitz fully expects Stolas to yell back. he is so used to being in arguments where the other person will lash back as well. And Blitz almost wants this. He believes he deserves it.

But Stolas doesn't...

Instead he takes Blitz sceaming the wrong way. You see this heartbreaking scene of Stolas starting to cry. Stolas has spent his whole life being told to be quieter, be more controlled, less emotional. Him crying in front of someone, rather than alone really emphasizes the hurt he is feeling. And then there is of course the most heartbreaking line: “I didn’t realize you think so low of me”.

Everyone thinks low of Stolas. He is the “pathetic” Goatia prince who is constantly scoffed at and bullied. Blitz was his escape from all of that, but now he believes Blitz thinks the same as everyone else.

But Blitz DOESN’T think low of Stolas. He thinks low of himself. 

Blitz realizes he fucked up. He went too far and hurt Stolas.

He realizes that Stolas misinterpreted what he said because Blitz was never really talking about Stolas, he was talking about his own feelings. We can see Blitz actually try to reach out to Stolas. He needs to let Stolas know that he doesn’t think that. You can hear him start to say “I’m sorry-” but as he’s saying that Stolas portals him away. 

Blitz “What the fuck” perfectly encapsulates his feelings. He doesn’t understand what happened but he knows that he messed up. Blitz needs to let Stolas know that he actually cares about him and apologize for what he said and Stolas needs to understand that Blitz needs some time.

Blitz never once said that he doesn’t care, only that he doesn’t believe Stolas can.  

[lopsicle]

Arcane season 2 spoilers

/////

I have been thinking A LOT about Jayce and Viktor, mainly the scene where Viktor is reborn out of his pod of Hexcore.

Mainly because it means a lot for Viktor’s character. On a fundamental level, he never seen much worth in himself, but he did see worth in inventions, the things he made, it’s how he could prove himself to the world. This is why he becomes so concerned with his illness and the legacy he’ll leave behind on the world; he needs the Hexcore to work because he doesn’t have anything else.

But now, he is literally fused with his invention, his invention that he has grown to hate because it killed one of the only people who truly saw value in Viktor, and not the things he could, partly due to his own negligence. Viktor put it best, in his pursuit of greatness, he failed to do good.

He doesn’t really know how to process what happened to him at all, he’s a smart man, he can clearly deduce that his body has undergone some cybernetic change, he can probably remember the explosion in the council room, but other then that, he’s just confused, hence why he asks Jayce, “what am I?” Viktor’s body is entirely different and unfamiliar, and taking into context that the Hexcore, his greatest invention which he tied all his worth to, has failed before this, it’s likely Viktor had lost sight of who he was, and his new body only served to further that descent.

Jayce can’t think about any of that though, he’s just happy that his partner is alive and who wouldn’t be, he’d been waiting for days, possibly weeks for him to wake. Viktor’s mortality is one of the things that Jayce has struggled with the most in the series, which is what makes his survivor’s guilt so much more pertinent. A lot of people claim that Jayce grew up rich and coddled, and I think that’s true to an extent, but they forgot his family were workers, tool smiths. Jayce seemed to grow up with the idea that he wasn’t that fortunate, that he was a working, middle class man who was going to change the world, and then he meets Viktor, a “poor cripple from the Undercity,” and then he sees what the Undercity is really like and the conditions people live in. And that’s when Jayce realises; he had it good. I believe this is what encourages part of his admiration of Viktor; he is what Jayce thought he was.

Tangent aside, I feel that their hug is a very, very important moment, mainly because of Viktor’s reaction.

He isn’t relieved or uncomfortable, it’s just…nothing. Given what Viktor says about how he doesn’t feel that it’s cold and just recognises that it is cold, I believe this is the moment where it fully sank in how much his body had changed. He couldn’t feel Jayce.

And like, first off, that is such beautiful symbolism for what he says later about how they’re relationship was only held together by affection. Viktor physically cannot feel said affection anymore and know has no reason to stick by the side of someone whose views have become so contrasted to his. But more emotionally, it’s representative of Viktor’s belief that he is unloveable, his new body is merely proof at that, he can’t touch Jayce, he couldn’t save Sky, he couldn’t make the Hexcore work properly, he couldn’t even get Jayce to destroy the Hexcore. To himself, Viktor is a failure who is unworthy of love.

But, he still huge Jayce back. Despite not being able to feel Jaycee’s warmth anymore, despite it feeling like his whole life has crumbled, Viktor wants to give Jayce one last act of service. Perhaps to prove that he still has use, or maybe this was the moment where he decided he would have to part ways with Jayce, and just wanted Jayce to remember his touch, even if Viktor couldn’t remember his.

Anywho if enough people like this dribble, I may post my take on the rest of this scene because it shattered me