#would desperately put all your needs first before his

[catchastarorten]

—“This one’s mine.”

Pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x VIP!fem!reader

Summary: after being pestered by your own brother, you agreed to accompany him to the island to watch the games, only to find yourself helping a waiter—Jun-ho—who was being eyed by a creepy panther-masked VIP.

Warnings: your sarcasm, mentions of death/violence in Glass Bridge, your brother is a VIP, brother & sister bickering/you put him in his place because he's being annoying, the VIPs—panther masked VIP being a weirdo, you save Jun-ho tho, English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word count: ~ 2.6k

The golden fox mask felt heavy on your face, pressing against your skin in a way that made you want to rip it off and toss it across the room. But that would be improper, wouldn’t it? A VIP must maintain decorum. At least, that’s what your insufferable little brother kept reminding you.

Speaking of him, he was sitting beside you, his wolf mask barely concealing the delighted smirk on his face as he leaned forward, watching the players stumble and fall to their deaths on the Glass Bridge. He laughed—actually laughed—when a man made the wrong choice out of the two and jumped, crashing through the wrong glass panel, screaming all the way down.

You sighed, swirling the drink in your glass, watching the liquid catch the dim light. It was infinitely more interesting than the so-called “game” before you.

How had you let brother dearest drag you here? Oh, right. He had whined and pouted and gone on and on about how you never did anything fun with him. You had rolled your eyes so hard it was a miracle they hadn’t gotten stuck in your skull, but against your better judgment, you agreed.

And now here you were, surrounded by a bunch of snobby men—your presence wasn’t nearly enough to balance out the testosterone levels—draped in velvet robes, sipping on the finest liquor, and betting on desperate people fighting for their lives.

You suppressed a yawn.

“This is so much better than another charity gala, isn’t it?” your brother drawled, nudging your arm. “You have to admit, this is real entertainment.”

“Yeah, watching poor people die really warms the heart,” you said dryly.

“Don’t be such a bore, sis,” he said, rolling his eyes. “This is tradition. You should be honored to be here.”

Oh, you were honored, alright. Honored that your parents left everything to him, making sure he had enough money to play dress-up with his rich little friends while you had to fight for your own wealth. Not that you needed their inheritance, but the principle of it still burned. He got to be the spoiled prince while you had to claw your way up in the world. And now here he was, wasting it all on cheap thrills.

The Glass Bridge game was nearing midway. The players were hesitating, trying to strategize their way across. The VIPs around you were buzzing with excitement, shouting bets, clapping, drinking like it was the biggest sports event of the decade. But all you saw were walking corpses, their fear so thick in the air it nearly masked the expensive cologne in the room.

You took another sip of your drink, letting the burn coat your throat.

“At least pretend like you’re having fun,” your brother whined. “People are gonna think you’re some kind of a… prude.”

“Oh no.” you responded mockingly.

He huffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. If there was one thing he hated, it was not getting his way. You could practically hear the gears turning in his spoiled little mind, trying to come up with a way to make you enjoy this, but his thoughts were interrupted when the other VIPs erupted into cheers and groans. You just exhaled through your nose, staring at the mess.

It was the players on the glass bridge, arguing, too afraid to jump. One shoved another forward, out of desperation or malice. The man screamed as he plunged to his death.

“Ugh, finally,” your brother muttered. “I hate when they hesitate. Just jump, you cowards!”

You turned your head slightly, studying him. Did he even realize how pathetic he sounded? Lounging in a silk robe, sneering at people who had nothing? He wouldn’t last a minute in their position.

“You should play,” you mused, tilting your head. “Next year.”

He snorted. “Please, I would dominate these games.”

You smiled behind your mask. “Would you?”

Your brother scoffed. “You doubt me?”

“I know you,” you said. “And you wouldn’t make it past the first round.”

He looked genuinely offended. “I’d make it to the finals, at least.”

You leaned in, voice dropping. “Tell you what. If you join next year, I’ll bet against you. Just to make it interesting.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. But you saw it—the flicker of doubt, of fear. As much as he enjoyed watching, he knew very well he would never survive playing.

And that? That was the only entertaining thing you’d seen all night.

A moment later, your eyes flicked toward the Panther-masked VIP, whose frustration over losing a bet had quickly turned into something much more unpleasant. His focus had shifted from the game to the waiter standing stiffly beside him—a waiter who, you observed, wasn’t moving quite like the other servers.

You weren’t an idiot. The way that waiter hesitated when he was called, the way his shoulders were a little too tense, the way his hands remained perfectly still as if not used to serving—it all screamed of someone who didn’t belong.

That was because he wasn’t really a waiter, it was Jun-ho disguised as one, though you didn’t know that. He had taken down one of the servers moments before the VIPs arrived on the island.

And now, the Panther-masked VIP was ordering him to sit beside him and take off his mask.

Jun-ho—recognizing the sharpness in his tone—tried to resist, his voice calm. “I need to serve the other guests, sir.”

The Panther VIP scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “Oh, come now, the others won’t mind if I keep this one for myself, will they?”

A chorus of laughter and amusement rippled through the room, the other VIPs agreeing without a care—“he’s all yours!” one of them laughed. Your brother even chuckled beside you, raising his glass as if this was all just another part of the entertainment.

You, however, did not find it amusing.

Before Jun-ho could be forced into something he clearly wanted no part of, you lazily raised your hand and gestured toward your glass.

“I need a refill,” you said smoothly.

Jun-ho’s eyes darted toward you, wary but sharp, understanding immediately that you were giving him an out.

Your brother groaned, shifting beside you. “Come on, sis, let him have his fun—”

Your hand shot out, swatting him hard against his arm before he could finish his whining.

He yelped, rubbing his arm. “Ow! What the—?”

“Shut up.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but the look you gave him through your golden fox mask was enough to make him think better of it. He slumped back into the couch with a huff, grumbling under his breath.

The Panther-masked VIP tsked in annoyance but didn’t say more as Jun-ho bowed his head slightly and stepped away from him, making his way toward you. You could see the tension in his shoulders ease, if only slightly.

As he reached your couch, he carefully took your glass and poured you another drink, his movements slow and precise. Up close, you could see the way his jaw was set tight, his eyes flickering with restraint.

You leaned in slightly as he finished pouring. “You okay?” you murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

Jun-ho hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding once. “Thank you,” he said quietly, placing your glass back into your hand.

You didn’t reply, just took a slow sip while he stood beside the couch you sat on.

However, the weight of the Panther-masked VIP’s stare was suffocating. You didn’t even have to look to know that he was still watching Jun-ho like a predator eyeing its next meal.

Annoyed, you turned your head ever so slightly, locking eyes with him through your golden fox mask. You raised your glass in a slow, mocking salute before downing the rest of your drink in one smooth motion.

The message was clear: Back off.

Unfortunately, subtlety was wasted on men like him.

“Come back here,” the Panther VIP drawled, waving his fingers in a lazy command at Jun-ho.

Jun-ho’s grip on the bottle in his hands tightened slightly, his body as still as a statue. It was subtle, but you caught it. He didn’t want to go back over there.

So, before he could even think about stepping forward, you reached out and grabbed his forearm, holding him in place. Your fingers pressed firmly against the fabric of his uniform—a silent message that he could stay with you.

You sat up straighter, your voice cutting through the noise.

“This one’s mine.”

The room went quiet for a beat.

Jun-ho stiffened beside you, clearly taken aback. You didn’t mean it in the way it sounded—he wasn’t a possession. But these men only responded to power plays, and if that was the language they spoke, then fine. You’d speak it fluently.

Your brother let out a low whistle beside you, his amusement clear. “Ohhh, big sis is getting bold.”

You didn’t even hesitate—your palm struck his arm again with a sharp thwack.

“Ow!” he rubbed where you smacked him.

“Shut up,” you muttered, leveling him with a glare. “If you don’t stop embarrassing yourself, I’ll give you a real beating in front of all these people.”

He grumbled something under his breath, soothing his arm, but he didn’t push it further.

The Panther VIP, however, was not so easily prevented. “Come now,” he chuckled, though there was irritation beneath his voice. “You can’t hoard all the fun.”

“Sure, I can,” you replied dryly.

A few of the other VIPs laughed at that, enjoying the exchange. The Panther VIP let out a breath through his nose, clearly displeased, but he wasn’t about to pick a fight with another VIP. That was the unspoken rule—annoyance was fine, but outright challenging each other was bad form.

Jun-ho turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at you. You met his eyes for a brief second, and then you stood up, keeping your grip on him firm.

“We’re leaving,” you announced.

Your brother groaned. “What? Where are you going?”

You didn’t even look at him as you responded, voice utterly monotone. “Somewhere that isn’t here.”

More amusement rippled through the other VIPs, some watching with interest, others indifferent as they returned their attention to the game. But as you turned to leave, you felt it—that silent, looming presence watching you.

The Frontman.

He didn’t say a word, didn’t move to stop you. He simply observed, his masked face unreadable.

You met his gaze for a long moment before turning away, leading Jun-ho out of the room. No one stopped you. No one dared to stop you.

And just like that, you stole the only honest man in the room away from the wolves.

The moment you got him alone into a dimly-lit, empty room, you could feel the tension radiating off of him. Jun-ho wasn’t stupid—he knew he didn’t belong here, and he knew that you knew. His shoulders were taut, his breath controlled but just a little too shallow, and his hand was subtly reaching for something. A gun, maybe. A knife. Whatever he had managed to smuggle in.

You raised your hands slowly, showing you had no weapon, no ill intent. “Relax,” you said, your voice calm, softer even. You let go of his arm, stepping back to give him space. “I’m not going to turn you in… or whatever you’re thinking right now.”

Jun-ho’s sharp eyes flickered with suspicion. “And why should I believe that?”

“Because if I was planning to sell you out, I would’ve done it back there.” you tilted your head slightly, crossing your arms loosely. “Would’ve let that old man have his fun.” you said with a hint of distaste at the thought.

That gave him pause. He studied you, his gaze flickering over your golden fox mask, as if trying to gauge whether you were lying, or just the need to understand why a supposed VIP was helping him. You didn’t blame him for being on edge. This entire place was a slaughterhouse dressed up in gold. If you were in his position, you wouldn’t trust anyone either.

“You don’t belong here,” you stated plainly, watching for his reaction.

“And neither do you.”

That actually made you laugh, just a short, soft chuckle. “You’re not wrong.”

He hesitated. Maybe because your mask didn’t hold the same predatory amusement as the others. His fingers twitched, like he was still deciding whether to draw his weapon, but then he let out a slow breath.

You sighed too and gestured toward the door. “You should go. Before someone actually does come looking for you.”

Jun-ho didn’t move right away. He just stood there, looking at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle. And for a brief moment, you could tell—he wanted to ask.

Who are you?

Why are you helping me?

What’s under the mask?

But he didn’t ask. He just gave you a small nod before slipping out the door, disappearing like a shadow. You shut the door.

You exhaled, rolling your shoulders as you turned back toward the empty room. Not even a minute later, a knock came at the door. You raised an eyebrow, opening the door, meeting the presence of a square-masked guard, who stepped inside.

“The Frontman sent me to check on you,” the guard said, his voice hollow under the mask. “Where’s the waiter?”

You gave him a blank look. “What waiter?”

The guard straightened. “The waiter you left with.”

You tilted your head, voice dry. “Oh. Him.” you shrugged lazily. “I got bored. Told him to get lost.”

The square guard didn’t buy it. “Where did he go?”

You sighed, as if this was the most exhausting conversation of your life. “Am I his babysitter?”

The guard didn’t move. He was pushing. You didn’t like being pushed.

So you took a slow step forward, closing the space between you and the guard. He stood his ground, but you could feel the slight hesitation in his stance as you slowly backed him up against the wall.

When his back hit the surface, the shift in atmosphere was instant. You weren’t loud. You weren’t aggressive. But the weight of your presence—the empty, unreadable calm of someone who knew how to lie—was enough to make the guard tense.

You tilted your head slightly, a slow, empty smile forming under your mask. “What exactly are you suggesting?” you murmured, voice smooth as silk. “That I’m hiding something?”

The square guard stiffened.

“Because that would be a very bold accusation to make against a VIP,” you continued, voice dropping to something almost sickly sweet. “And you wouldn’t want to insult a guest, would you?”

There it was—the slight shift in his posture, the hesitation and hint of nervousness.

“I—”

You stepped back, your fake smile still in place. “Good talk,” you said dryly, dusting off your robe like this was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Tell the Frontman to send someone more competent next time.”

The square guard didn’t argue, he just quickly stepped away from the wall, stiffly nodding before leaving the room without another word.

You sighed as the door shut behind him, rubbing a hand against the side of your neck.

This whole thing had been a drag, but at least you’d managed to do one decent thing tonight.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

[rawflwrs]

Can you pls write some more about terry ?

▐ sugardaddy!terryrichmond ୫ camgirl!reader

summary: after a long day of spending daddy’s money, you both decide to end the night giving your viewers a show.

writer’s notes: I tried my best with this, although it was rushed, so it’s definitely not my best work. I apologise if you don’t like it! I’ve just been busy with assignments, so I’ve been distracted. I also added visuals this time, so let me know if you guys enjoy them and want me to add them in future smut fics. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and don’t forget to like, comment & reblog </3 !!

warnings: explicit language, begging, pet names (daddy, princess, etc) overstimulation, dacryphilia, clit slapping, bimbofication, finger sucking, choking, spanking, age gap relationship and praising — bratty!sub!reader & dom!terry

tags: @luvrsluxe @gardenof-venus @theogbadbitch @fairygoround @nayaesworld @catxo @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @kenshisluvrgirl @bigjuiciisushii @todorokishoe24 @notapradagurl7 @writingsbytee

Terry knew you were high maintenance before he met you. The way your bedroom lit a soft shade of baby pink with gold and cheetah print accessories surrounding you, your nails and toes always freshly done, either in a sparkly baby pink or a basic french tip: you made sure you were put together. After all, all you did was dress up like a doll and men paid to witness it.

It was one of the few things Terry noticed about you. He never intended to come across you as he believed that watching porn or anything remotely related, wasn’t of any benefit to him, knowing that if he had any sexual needs, there were always a list of women who would be at his beck and call.

But before he knew it, Terry became one of your top contributors, starting off by sending you five thousand dollars in the first stream he joined and progressively adding another ten thousand for every stream after, just to hear you thank him as you pressed your toys into your glistening pink hole.

Terry loved the idea of spoiling a pretty girl like you, hearing your giggles as you repeatedly thanked him for sending you so many gifts or when you joked that you needed to see him in person to thank him properly: he knew that he needed you. When you had announced you were going to do private calls for your top contributors, Terry made sure he was number one on that list.

You were nervous. It was obvious that the person named ‘@/treatsfromterry’ was clearly obessessed with you and although you liked the idea of someone being so desperate for your attention that they would spend what felt like their lifesavings on you, you were also terrified that he would be some old creep.

You were so wrong. When a muscular caramel toned man, wearing thin rimmed glasses and a short sleeve black wife-beater popped onto your zoom call screen, you couldn’t believe your eyes. He was beautiful. You felt your mouth drop open slightly at the sight as his deep chuckle filled your ears. “You okay there, beautiful?” He questioned, fixing his camera position to ensure you can see him clearly. “Mhm” you trailed off, eyes lowering to his biceps. They were so big and soft: you wanted a bite.

“I need to hear you use your words, princess.” He sighed out, feeling himself harden at the sight of you wearing the lingerie he asked you to wear for this special occasion. “I’m fine, daddy. I just didn’t expect you to look so good.” You giggle, remembering that he asked you to only call him daddy. The name definitely fit the view you were seeing. “Thank you, baby. I appreciate you wearing that for me.” He smiled, motioning towards your lingerie.

You smiled. “I mean you spoil me so much, it’s the least I could do. Do I look pretty?” You moved closer to your laptop camera, purposely angling it to face your breasts as you slowly message them, circling your brown areole’s. “So fucking pretty, princess.” He groaned, the ache in his pants getting worse. You smiled, leaning back before thanking him again. “Is there anything specific you want me to do for you, daddy?” You asked.

Initially, Terry thought about asking you to masterbate on the call to watch you moan his name, but he realised that it would be better to see that in person. “No, I just want to ask you one question.” He leaned forward to look directly in your eyes. “Oh? Go ahead, but I’m just letting you know that if I feel uncomfortable, I won’t hesitate to block you.” You said softly, attempting to set your boundaries as clearly as possible.

“I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, princess. Tell me if I’m going too far, okay?” He assured you while you simply nodded.

“Outside of this-” he started, gesturing towards the camera, insinuating that he was referring to you being a cam girl. “What is your goal? What job do you aspire to have?” He questioned and it caught you off guard. It’s not usual that one of your viewers even care to ask about how your day was, never mind what your aspirations are. “I want to be rich.” You answered, earning a deep chuckle from him. “What?! I’m serious. I don’t aspire to work. I just want to make money and be happy.” You said truthfully. He found your answer fascinating because it wasn’t one he was used to hearing.

“What if I can be the one to make you rich and happy?” He asked, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, patiently waiting for your response. “Wh-what do you mean?” You questioned, feeling your body warming up from the tension. Although, he was miles away from you, he made his presence very known. “I’m an investor. I like to invest into businesses I know will be profitable and successful for me-” He started, before you cut him off, “you invest into people too?” You asked. “Not people. . . Just you.” He adjusted his glasses.

“I want you to be my sugar baby.” The comment had you puzzled. It wasn’t like people had never asked you to be their sugar baby, but it wasn’t normal for someone of his calibre to openly ask. “That means I get to spoil you and all I ask for in return is your time and attention.” He continued. You were still silent, debating on whether it would be a good idea as you only started your cam girl services to fund for your college tuition fees, not because you wanted to have close ties to the lifestyle long term. “You can continue your streaming services if you think that’s something I wouldn’t want you doing anymore. I just want you. I want to feel you and be close to you. That’s all I ask for, sweetheart.” He said as you thought deeply about the advantages of being a sugar baby.

“How do I know you’re really rich? You could just be lying to me to get me to meet you.” You pestered. He laughed before pulling out his phone, tapping a few buttons and showing you the amount of money he had in his bank account. You audibly gasped which caused him to laugh harder at the thought of you questioning his wealth. “Does that answer your question?” He asked. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your sugar baby.” You replied almost immediately. “Good girl.” He smiled once more. And with that, your relationship with Terry began.

Who would’ve thought that a year later, you would be walking around Chanel with a 6 ft 3 man, spending his money on whatever you touched. I mean, you had been in the store for less than hour and he already spent over twenty thousand dollars. Terry sat in the corner of the store, tapping away at his phone to handle some business dealings while keeping a close eye on you, knowing you get lost when you’re not in the right mind. “Daddy, come look at this.” You asked softly as he held one finger at you to tell you to wait a moment. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart.” He replied.

You hated when he wasn’t paying attention to you, especially because you knew that whatever he was looking at wasn’t more important than you. “Why do I even bother.” You pouted, grabbing your bags and attempting to leave the store without a second thought. Terry immediately followed after you and paused your movements, noticing your demeanour shift. “I’m here, princess. I’m sorry, you know how work is right now.” He grabbed your chin for you to look up at him. “You said you wanted my time and attention, whole time, you’re too busy on your stupid fucking phone!” You barked back, attempting to walk away before feeling your arm get yanked back.

“Who the fuck you talking to like that? I’ll fuck you up in front of everybody.” He started. “Tread lightly. This bratty attitude ain’t cutting it for me.” He warned. Yes, Terry was a sweet man who was never aggressive with you unless you asked him to be, he still would never tolerate disrespect and recently you’ve been having more bratty outbursts than usual. At first, he thought you were simply hormonal, but as it became consistently worse, he became more agitated that you thought your behaviour was acceptable. “Whatever.” You storm back into the store, ignoring glares from the workers and continue your shopping.

It wasn’t long before you were laying across Terry’s lap on your stomach with your camera angled just so your viewers can see his chest, but not his face as he spanked you in the room he dedicated in his house as your filming room, covered in Sanrio themed accessories after you told him you loved them. “You can take it, princess.” He spanked your plush ass again, watching it slowly bruise up as the live gained more traction with people sending more gifts and reactions. “M’ sor-so sorry, daddy! Please!” You pleaded, feeling yourself start to lose your vision as you stained your cheeks with wet hot tears.

“But you look so pretty like this, mama. Don’t y’all agree?” He questioned, almost taunting the viewers as he landed another harsh slap. Your live stream was gaining more views by the minute, but all you could think about was how much you needed his touch. “Pl-pleasee, daddy. Touch me- I want it so bad.” You cried out. “I nee-ed you.” You breathed out. “That’s all you had to say, princess.” He lifted you to straddle him, facing you towards the camera as he spread your legs open for them to see. “Look at how wet you are.” He slapped your clit harshly, causing you to yelp and jump forward from the impact.

You covered your mouth with your hand as he continued to slap your clit four more times, chuckling after each slap. “Dadd-ah pleasee!” You squealed, knowing your body was giving up on you. Terry used his left hand to grab you by your throat, applying a little bit of pressure to assert dominance. “You know I don’t like brats. Why do you keep playing with me?” He whispered in your ear, rubbing your clit in a circular motion, slowly. “M’ sor-” you were cut off by him applying more pressure to your throat. “You’re sorry? Were you sorry when you embarrassed me today?” He questioned, his grip on your throat getting tighter as he fastened the pace of rubbing your clit.

You couldn’t even respond due to the pressure he had on your throat. Terry moved his left hand up into your mouth as you attempted to catch a breath. He stuck his two fingers in your mouth, watching you suck them softly. He almost forgot you were on your live stream until he heard a ping from your computer which indicated you had reached over fifty thousand viewers: a new milestone. “People like seeing me use you, princess. Should we do this more often?” He asked, pushing his fingers further down your throat while you simply nodded.

He pulled his fingers out your mouth, watching closely as a string of your saliva creeped out. You coughed at the feeling of your airways being free. “You’re my filthy little slut. Aren’t you, angel?” He teased, using both of his hands to rub your clit aggressively. You gripped onto his biceps, your face contorting from the mixed pleasure that you were receiving. Your pussy ached from the heat and you felt yourself losing consciousness. “Aww, you gonna pass out on daddy? But I’m only just getting started, baby.” He cooed. “You can take it.” He bit your shoulder.

The lewd sounds of your pussy squelching, your inconsistent moans and your sweat dripping from all parts of your body made viewers wish they were Terry right now. It was fucking disgusting. You practically losing yourself and he hadn’t even fucked you yet? You were pathetic. He slowed down his pace when he saw you squirting and your juices nearly hitting your laptop camera: truly cinematic.

He groaned at the feeling of his cock aching just from the sight. Terry knew when you started squirting like this, you weren’t far from cumming. “You close, bunny?” He teased as your legs trembled in response. “M’ c-close, pa!” You squirmed, closing your eyes shut while he rubbed you gently, still ensuring his touch was firm. You felt yourself slipping away into your own headspace as you knew you would cum any moment now. That was until, he moved his hands away from you, earning a loud whine.

“You think I’d let you cum after how you acted today? Nah, get on all fours.” He pushed you off him, causing you to fall to the ground. Your legs were still wobbly, but you knew better than to argue with him. After all, it was your mouth that got you in this position in the first place. You sat up on the bed, getting into his preferred position. “Stretch that ass out.” He ordered, watching you spread your ass hole open, ready for him to stuff your ass, whole.

You knew you were in for a long night.

[seoups]

want you back - m. fushiguro

you and megumi's relationship ended terribly. you'd spent the past few months trying to forget him- only to run into him at a party your best friend forced you to go to. cw: angst with a happy ending song: want you back by 5sos a/n: ik i just posted a megumi one but i love this man so here is yet another one

“NO MATTER WHERE I GO, I'M ALWAYS GONNA WANT YOU BACK.”

The first time Megumi saw you after the breakup was at a party. He hadn’t even noticed you until Itadori gasped loudly and pointed with no attempt to hide his shock.

You were standing across the room, talking to some guy, doing the same arm touch you did to him when you first met.

His stomach began to churn.

He couldn’t stand to see it. Couldn’t stand to see you moving on while he was still daydreaming about the memory of you. All he wanted to do was leave and try to forget you- something he’d attempted for the past month since you’d broken up.

“Let’s just go,” Megumi put down his drink. “No way,” Kugisaki insisted, crossing her arms. “You can’t let this breakup take over your life.”

That was when you spotted him too.

Your whole body froze, eyes locking with him across the crowded room. And suddenly, this party- this entire night- became your worst nightmare. Your best friend had insisted on you coming with her to this party and flirting with the guys to at least try and get yourself back out there.

You didn’t want to. This wasn’t something you typically did.

Megumi knew this. That’s why he was just as confused as you were.

Too frustrated and embarrassed by getting spotted by your ex-boyfriend, you spent the rest of the party on the couch and on your phone, pretending you weren’t hyperaware of his presence.

Megumi wouldn’t lie- he spent most of the night watching you. Ignoring every girl that tried to talk to him. Brusing off Kugisaki’s glares at him.

All he could think about was you.

The freckles on your back he’d spent time studying after the first time the two of you spent the night together.

The sound of your laugh that echoed through his brain anytime he dared to smile.

The way that you’d talk his ear off whenever you had the chance.

The way that you’d lean into him, desperate for his touch on hard days.

The way that your face would light up whenever he knocked on your door.

The way that you looked at him like he was the best thing in your life.

The roses on your shirt when you ended things with him.

The way your voice cracked as you told him, “This isn’t working.”

When the haze of the party became too much, you slipped out towards the balcony, craving some fresh air.

The air was cold and crisp, a nice contrast to the heat of the moving bodies at the party. You leaned against the railing, your fingers curling around the cold metal as you thought about you and Megumi’s prior relationship.

But then the door slid open behind you. Before you even turned to look, you knew who it was.

Megumi stepped onto the balcony, his hands shoved into his pockets. He wasn’t sure if he should have even followed you. But he made the plunge.

“Needed air?” he walked up to the railing, standing beside you. You let out a short, humorless laugh, “Clearly not as much as you did.”

A thick silence settled between you. You turned your gaze back to the skyline. But you could feel him watching you- studying you the way he always had.

“You seem different,” he finally said. “You do too.” “I guess we haven’t seen each other in a while, then,” he exhaled through his nose, barely nodding.

You hummed in agreement, watching the city lights twinkle in front of you. The part noice still bled through the glass door behind you. But out here on the balcony, it was quieter. Less suffocating.

But Megumi’s presence filled the space beside you in a way that made it impossible to ignore him.

The two of you hadn’t been alone together since the breakup. You’d made sure of that. It was easier to pretend that he didn’t exist when you weren’t looking straight at him.

But now, you were. And the weight of everything that was unsaid at the end of your breakup pressed against your ribs as if your lungs were going to explode.

Megumi shifted, his elbows resting against the railing as he turned his head slightly, his eyes still stuck on you. It made your throat tighten.

“You were talking to that guy inside,” his voice remained even. You tensed, “Yeah.”

His fingers curled into his palms. The image haunted his brain. The way you laughed at something the guy said. The way you reached out, touching his arm like you used to do to him when you laughed too hard.

“Didn’t think that was your thing,” he said finally. You let out a breath, your grip tightening on the cold railing, “It’s not.”

He knew that. He knew you would never do casual. Whenever you let someone in, you did it with your whole heart.

His jaw clenched, “Then why were yo-“ “Because I thought it’d help,” you snapped, turning towards him with frustration thick in your voice. “Because everyone kept telling me to move on from you. Everyone kept telling me I should put myself back out there as if I wasn’t the one who-“

You stopped yourself, biting down hard on your lip to stop them from moving.

Megumi’s gaze sharpened, “Like you weren’t the one who what?”

You looked away from his eyes for a moment. Megumi let the silence linger, waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could say out loud.

Then, barely above a whisper, you said, “Like I wasn’t the one who ran away from us.”

Megumi stiffened. There it was. The truth he’d been waiting to hear come out of your mouth for months.

He’d spent months trying to figure out why you’d left. Everything was going perfect. He couldn’t understand why you’d leave.

And now that he was standing right next to you, with the weight of your words settling between you two, all he could think about was the way you used to look at him. Now, all that remained in your eyes is a look of apology and regret.

His throat tightened, “And now?” You inhaled sharply, your breath shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you did. And so did he.

Megumi turned fully toward you, shrinking the space between you by just a few inches. Close enough for you to feel his warmth and to smell the faint traces of cologne left on his hoodie after tonight. Close enough that if you turned your head just a little more, you’d be back in the place you had missed so damn much.

“Then figure it out,” he said quietly, his voice raw and honest.

Because he wasn’t over you. And he wasn’t going to pretend that he was. Not when you were standing right in front of him, looking like you might still want this too.

[beneathsilverstars]

I think maybe they’re acting odd enough in Dormont that when Isabeau leaves the favor tree and goes up to the cliff, he stays closer to the town side — looking at Mirabelle and the path to the favor tree — as he considers whether he should talk to anyone else about it, or ask Siffrin if they’re okay once they’re back from the favor tree, or something. And honestly he probably wouldn’t have ended up doing any of those things! But it means he is close enough to see when Siffrin is about to slip on the banana peel, whereas Siffrin didn’t even notice him there, because why would they look for any changes? Nothing ever changes unless they change it by force.

So Siffrin casually strolls towards the peel, and Isabeau shouts, "Woah, Sif, look out—!" and manages to catch him right as his legs go out from under him. Which, wow! That was scary! Good thing he was there, that could’ve been awful, what with the cliff right there and everything!

So now Siffrin can’t use the banana peel; Isabeau threw it away. And they can’t will themself to just jump off the cliff without it. So they resign themself to getting to the house the slow way, but, stars, they do not feel like sitting around Dormont right now. And it wasn’t even the first floor that they needed to go to anyway, so they’d be doing the whole entire night in Dormont, just to end the loop asap anyway! So. Eventually they give up and go for the dagger. But they’ve never used the dagger in Dormont before, and once they decide to use it they don’t waste a lot of time planning, so. They don’t do a good enough job making sure no one is nearby.

And it turns out Odile was right around the corner behind him, and she rounds it just in time to see him raise the knife. She casts slow on him and rushes forward and manages to yank his arm back before he can cut unsalvageably deep, then shouts for help. She sends the nearest villager to get Mirabelle, who hasn’t used any craft yet today, so she’s able to pour everything she has into healing him. Meanwhile Odile goes to get Isabeau and make sure Bonnie stays away until the situation isn’t so gory.

Eventually Mirabelle has Siffrin all healed and cleaned up and situated at the clocktower, and Bonnie is retrieved to start making dinner a little early. And now Odile and Isabeau and Mirabelle have allll evening to talk to Siffrin and try and figure out what’s wrong and how to help. Though Siffrin, of course, is being very unhelpful. They're desperately looking forward to their next chance to loop, and worried they won’t get one, and spiraling about upsetting everyone, but refusing to tell them about the time loops because it doesn’t matter, Siffrin doesn’t want to upset them more, they just! need! a way to loop!!

And of course he doesn’t say any of that out loud. But it’s not hard for the others to pick up that Siffrin wishes they hadn’t stopped him and is looking for a chance to escape, so of course they don't give him the chance. They ask if anything happened during/before his nap, and he insists no, nothing happened, he's fine. They suggest he doesn’t have to — and in fact, probably shouldn’t — go to the house tomorrow, but that really upsets him, because he wants to help them, he doesn’t want them to get hurt without him!! But they don’t want him to get hurt either.

But eventually they’re like, okay, even if we did give you your dagger back tomorrow so you can fight with us in the house, because we trust that you wouldn’t put us in danger, and we’ll keep a close eye on you — what next? We can’t just! Leave you! I mean we can't stop you from leaving but we want to help if you’ll let us!!!

And Mirabelle starts saying, "Maybe you could stay in the Dormont house with me, when it's back to normal? Until you're feeling better? I know everyone here, I could help you find a counselor if you'd be okay with that!" And Odile adds, "Or if you have somewhere to be I could accompany you; I didn’t have any particular plans on where to go next, so I might as well go the same direction as you." And of course Isabeau chimes in, "I really don’t need to get back to Jouvente any time soon — I quit my job, after all. I can stay with you as long as you need, as long as you want." And they ask Siffrin what their plans were, where they’re headed, and. Siffrin can’t come up with an answer that’s specific enough to be believable, not when they’re currently trying to plan specifics. Playing it off with a joke won't work, not this time. He tries to reassure them that they don’t need to change their plans for him, he’ll be fine, he knows they have their own things to do, and he’ll be fine on his own—

But Isabeau says, "You gotta understand why I don’t really believe that right now, Sif. You don’t have to let us stay with you if you don't want, but please don’t lie to us, you're obviously not fine. We want to help, if there’s anything we can do." And Mirabelle realizes she knows something relevant, so she says, "You told me... You told me a couple weeks ago that— this journey was the happiest you’ve ever been." And in the horrible quiet, Odile reaches the inevitable conclusion: "That journey will be over tomorrow, one way or another, and you don't have anything else to keep going for."

And Siffrin — they've been internally freaking out and spiraling this whole time, right? But it was never quite enough to automatically loop back, because— every mistake they made was immediately followed by clear assistance and compassion. Even when they first cut their throat, the moment that they realized they'd been caught was also the moment Odile touched them and then held them, reassured them with uncharacteristic desperation between shouts for help as she used her own coat to staunch the blood.

And now, no matter how horribly guilty and sick he feels that he's forcing his family to stay with him because they mistakenly think he's suicidal, this is them staying with him. It is a way forward.

So. The truth is out. They know that Siffrin was dreading the end of the quest because he had nowhere and nothing and no one to return to. They're wrong that he was about to kill himself over it, technically, except aren't they right about that too? No one knows it, but that was the reason for the loops, and he sure did kill himself far too easily in them.

The others talk about how they enjoyed the journey together, too, and... none of them wanted to part, either, they just hadn't brought it up yet. Odile says, "If I'd just said something sooner... I couldn't have known this would result, and yet... I should've known something was wrong. I'm so sorry I let you feel so alone and hopeless." Isabeau breaks the sorrowful quiet to say, determined, "We'll just have to make it up to you now. Bonnie will need to get back to their sister, right? What if we all accompany them to Bambouche?" And Mirabelle says, "Yes! That would be wonderful! And, you know, I was thinking of going on a pilgrimage soon — Siffrin, would you want to come with me, after we drop Bonnie off?" And of course Isabeau and Odile chime in that they'd love to go too. And, if they're all staying together, Bonnie might be really disappointed to stay behind in Bambouche, but maybe they could ask their sister if the two of them would like to travel for a bit as well...?

And Siffrin just starts sobbing. After a moment Mirabelle can't stand it, she has to at least offer, "Would you like a hug..? No pressure! But if you want one!" She holds her arms out a little in offer, and Siffrin can't stop themself from falling into them, and soon enough even Odile is patting Siffrin's back while Mirabelle and Isabeau hold them. After a bit, they hear Bonnie from outside the door, sullen: "I know you said they need space because they got hurt. But. You're all in there. And dinner is ready..?" And they tell Bonnie to come in, and Bonnie was mad at Siffrin for getting hurt again, but it turns into shock because, "What the crab, since when are we allowed to hug Frin??" And Isabeau says, "Since now, I guess?" And Bonnie hesitates for a moment, but relief that Siffrin is upright wins out, and even as they launch into a lecture they launch themself into the hug and nearly knock everyone over.

And then they're all laughing, and crying, and telling Bonnie about their travel plans. And then Bonnie brings in dinner, and Siffrin is ready to make himself eat it, but his poker face is gone right now and it's obvious he has no appetite for it — even aside from the fact that it's the same clocktower dinner that he's eaten dozens of times in a row, there's the whole recently-healed neck injury thing — and Bonnie's like, "Well, duh, if you're hurt or sick or whatever you need like, plain rice! And soup! And crackers! And lots of water!!" And they rush off to get a little of the extra rice and whip up a quick simple soup. And it's so nice to eat something new after months of the same stuff that Siffrin starts crying again, so of course they all have to hug him again. And eventually he falls asleep like that, surrounded by his family.

... And then they have to go through the house again the next day.

And, actually, at this point Siffrin is so scared of losing all of this. It's what he deserves, after guilting everyone into staying with him — after making Odile see such a horrible sight, making Mirabelle exhaust herself healing them, making Isabeau carry them back to the clocktower, making Bonnie cook them a whole separate meal — but still, he doesn't want to lose it. And he knows that doesn't actually matter, he'll loop again like he always does; if the perfect family loop didn't work, why would this failed loop change anything, this disaster where he didn't help anyone and instead they all helped him? But he wants to stay with them so bad. Can't he pretend, just a little longer, that there's any chance of escaping? Can't he force himself through the entire house again, just in case? Can't he act like this miraculous plan to travel together is possible? Can't he hope, one last time?

At the very least, they can linger. Siffrin can feel the dread building, they can't imagine how they're going to bear waking up in that meadow again, but they can put it off for as long as possible. They take their time to check every item. They try not to zone out, and sometimes they accidentally drift for a bit, but sometimes they listen and they do catch something new, bits of travel planning and bits of worry. They don't even use their strongest attacks unless the battle is looking dicey. They just make their way through the house as slowly as they can without raising suspicion.

Siffrin is terrified the entire time; he tries to hide it but he's so so tired, and he's so tired of hiding it, too. Everyone tries to reassure him, but it's to little success; and honestly, that's fair enough, with the King ahead! But then they beat the king and Siffrin is more scared, not less? And he's starting to feel sick and dizzy, too — the wish's conditions have been fulfilled. Its craft is dissipating, and without that energy the craft exhaustion is starting to hit.

But everyone is determined to help. They remind him that they've promised to keep traveling together, and it sets him off crying because he wants it so bad and he's so scared, so they all hug one more time before heading to Euphrasie. And Siffrin reminds himself, just one more time. He just has to hold onto hope this one, last time. Just in case.

They talk to Euphrasie, Siffrin shaking, one arm around Isabeau and other hand in Bonnie's, Odile right next to them, Mirabelle right ahead. When it's their turn, Siffrin takes a deep breath in and out and steps forward, and Euphrasie starts to talk and then—

Stops to ask if they're alright.

And she says something else to him, but he can barely hear it, because it's something different. It's something different. And then Isabeau is guiding him to sit down and reminding him to breathe, and Euphrasie is discussing something with Mirabelle, concerned, and it's all different.

It's different.

And it stays different for the rest of the day, and they wake up the next day to Bonnie shouting that they all need to pack so they can leave for Bambouche. Together.

:( au where siffrin tries to end a loop early but someone sees in time to stop/heal him. and they’re desperately trying to figure out why he did that and convince him life is worth living, and in that discussion someone suggests traveling together after the loops. and then ofc they’re keeping a very close eye on him after that, so, he doesn’t get another chance to reset. then they beat the king! so! conditions met! that’s the last loop! the one where they all saw siffrin try to kill themself! the one where the party surely only agreed to stay with them out of guilty obligation. but he’s selfish so of course he won’t do the right thing and refuse to go along with it. :( :( :(

[michellejonesgf]

come on, live a little • patrick zweig x reader

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

synopsis: patrick hasn't been kissed in a while. and so he asks for a kiss.

words: 1087

warnings: written in second person, pat zweig being persistent (he wants a kiss so bad) (not in a creepy way, you and him have a good friendship), hinge mention (author does NOT know how dating apps work), friends to lovers!

a/n: wrote this during a quick writing session in between study sessions, hope you like this <3

“hey can i ask you a favour.”

“nope.”

“if you were a really good friend.”

“good thing i’m not that.”

“you would really care about me.”

“pat, i don’t have time for this.”

“can you kiss me?"

and with those eyes so wide, so beautiful, who are you to say no?

“i haven’t been kissed in so long.”

patrick zweig has never been big on emotional vulnerability. he prefers to hide behind a veil of cheeky remarks and flirts with a mission, but laughter is all he expects even when he does happen to make a joke or two with personal anecdotes.

“did art put you up to this? or tashi?”

a part of his heart seizes at this. did you really not believe that someone could ache after you? or did it stem beyond that? did you not want this?

he says your name, “it’s already so embarrassing, you think they have that much of a hold over me?”

you shrug, looking anywhere but his eyes. your heart won’t accept its sincere but if you see even a glimmer of amusement in his eyes you will never be able to speak to him normally again.

“oh, i know they have a different kind of hold on you.”

“i don’t want to talk about them right now.”

“then don’t.”

patrick’s at the end of his rope. and he’s never at the end of rope, at least not in this way.

“the other day you said ‘what’s a little kiss between friends’. you know nothing’s going to change, or whatever.”

“is this how you get everyone to kiss you? no wonder you’ve been, what was it, thirty people in the last–”

“–don’t be mean.”

you feel bad. and you did say that a little kiss between one’s closest friends only makes the friendship stronger. but you also said that to tashi. who you don’t currently have feelings for (although art would say that’s debatable). maybe you should do this, be a good friend. “you really want a kiss, huh?” you squint your eyes at him.

“i don’t want to make you feel weird–”

“what about hinge?”

“what about it?”

the pause tells you all you need to know. "you got banned, didn't you?"

he averts his gaze, voice a bit smaller than before, "no i didn't".

he huffs and turns to you, eyes focused into yours, desperately peering, "do you not want to kiss? i won't bother you if its making you uncomfortable."

you think it's now or never. take a chance, risk it and hope that you can salvage what's left of your friendship over the next six months. art and tashi would understand right, they'd help you through it?

you lean closer to him, and slowly bring your hands to his face, cupping each cheek gently with each hand. you look into his eyes, smiling, "i'm going to need you to put on a shirt first."

he springs up and you hear the shuffle of his feet as he walks towards the bed. you smile at how he's quick to come back.

he sits back on the floor, just the way you both were a minute ago and you resume the position of your hands cradling his face.

“patrick zweig,” you say smiling.

“yes?” his voice is hesitant, he doesn’t know if you’re going to make fun of him or–

“can i kiss you?”

“please.”

you lean in and give his lips a slight feather-like touch with your own. neither party pulls away, both with closed eyes and held breaths. you make a decision. you lean in once more and press a kiss that feels more real this time. he kisses back but its so soft your heart melts at the thought that this could be something.

you try some more pressure and one of your hands goes to the back of his neck to pull him a bit closer. you’ve never felt this tingly while giving someone a kiss, you wonder if a friendship this deep makes it more special. if knowing someones hidden threads and tending to their bruised split knuckles when they try not to cry grants a special warmth to any potential future romantic dalliances with that person that sours any other romantic experience with someone else forever.

the leverage that your hand on his neck gives you feels dizzying because in this moment he is yours to hold and to kiss. you feel his palm in the small of your back, barely there, a bit more than ghosting. a deepened kiss, lips slotting between each other that meet for a moment only to slot a different way and you deign that enough. you both halt with your lips so close yet so apart.

you look into his eyes, from that so-close-so-apart distance and every resolve you had to stay civil dissolves. he looks at you and you feel dishonest and–

“i’ve liked you since that weekend at the basketball court.”

“i deleted hinge three months ago.”

so he was telling the truth.

a patrick zweig in love practices emotional vulnerability and tells the truth. who would’ve thought.

“so this isn’t just a kiss between friends?” as much as you don’t want to a smile creeps and lifts your cheeks so much there’s no way you can do a bit.

“come on, i just told my best friend i like her!”

“you didn’t tell me any of that.”

“well, the way you kiss told me that.”

“well, i also kiss your mother like that, if that helps.”

he holds your face the way that you were holding his just a few minutes ago, “will you stop seeing my mother and let me be your boyfriend, please?”

“come on, live a little, its the 21st century!” but your heart is beating so fast you cannot bring yourself to answer earnestly.

patrick’s smile turns toothy and you wonder what it would be like to taste the inside of his mouth.

“did you really save yourself for months so that you could kiss me?”

“you know how traditional i am.” this is the same patrick who kissed art to get him to stop talking that is now kissing you, and saving himself to do so.

“can we do that again but with tongue?”

“yes, director.”

[yangjungwonisms]

Noona?- YJW

This one’s a little naughty mixed with pure yearning hehe hope you enjoy!

CW: pure filth, NSFW| MDNI 18+

For as long as Jungwon can remember he had feelings for you. He distinctly remembers the very first time he met you. You were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He tried everything he could think of to get to know you but you always kept him at arms length. It also happened that you were 5 years older than him. He was never bothered by your age difference but he was a teenager when you two had met and you never saw him as more than a kid. Still, he tried to get you to notice him, your age gap never bothered him. Especially since he always acted older than his age anyways. It was hard to remember he was so much younger than you because of how mature he was. Slowly but surely you started to let your guard down around him. For one, he was finally able to get you to come over to his place alone.

You always had some kind of idea of his feelings for you. But you were never in a position to allow yourself to imagine any scenario where you two could be together. But lately, you had started to think about him differently. Most of the time you felt confused about your own evolving feelings for Jungwon. He may have been a teenager when you met but he had been an adult for nearly 3 years now. Would it be so wrong to let it happen?

Jungwon had been subtlety dropping hints about his attraction towards you for months now. Normal actions that weren’t inherently sexual such as him putting his hand on your lower back when holding the door open for you and walking in behind you started to shift. It was normal if you were to look at it from an outside perspective. However, his touch had started lingering. Lately he had become much touchier with you than you had ever noticed before. You tried not to overthink anything but you couldn’t help but get worked up over the little touches he’d give you every now and then. Each brush of his fingers against your leg when sitting next to you felt like electricity running through your body. Still, some small part of you was hesitant to get involved with him because of his age. However, over time you had grown accustomed to his presence, he was someone you had grown to rely on quite a bit. The attraction you felt towards each other was never just physical. Jungwon understood you in a way that almost no one else did. You weren’t just some conquest to him. No, he’d been in love with you for a long time. He’d been patient with you though, letting you come to terms with your own feelings for him on your own time. He’d had enough waiting though, he knew how you felt but didn’t understand why you were holding yourself back. He knew you two could be great together if only you’d let your guard down enough to let it happen.

Which is why, when he invited you over for dinner that night he was determined to make it happen between you two. Except when you walked into his apartment he got nervous. You looked beautiful and he couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of pride knowing you’d dressed up so pretty for him. “Wow, Noona you look beautiful all dressed up like that. Did you do all that for me”? Your face immediately turned all red. You attempted to stutter out some kind of excuse but you didn’t have one because you did indeed dress up for him. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t”. He pulled you in for a hug and helped you take off your jacket. Except he just couldn’t help but get lost in the feel of you so close to him. “Mmm and you smell good too. You’re spoiling me Noona. Do you give any of the other guys this kind of special treatment”? He knew the answer was no.

Desperate to change the subject you pull a bottle of wine out of the bag you brought. You were going to wait until dinner to drink but he had started his flirting way earlier in the night than you expected and you were gonna need liquid courage to make it through this. You go to the exact drawer where you know Jungwon keeps a corkscrew so you can open the wine. He’s quick to beat you to it, opening the drawer with ease and passing it to you. The drag of his palm against yours is near torturous, as he’s moving it as slow as humanly possible before finally depositing it in your hand. When he finally pulls his hand away from yours you feel a thin sheen of sweat start to break out over your body. Your hands seemed to be the most affected by the way you’re struggling to open the wine. Jungwon had been watching you from across the room with catlike precision. Before you can even say anything he moves to stand behind you, placing his hand over yours where you’re trying but failing miserably so to open the wine. “Let me help you”. That’s all he says before he starts guiding your movements. He’s standing so close to you that when he breathes you can feel his entire body move against yours. The feeling alone is enough to make you go weak in the knees. You’re holding your breath waiting for him to finally pull away from you. Except he doesn’t, instead he slowly turns you around so now you’re facing him but he’s somehow gotten you caged in between him and the counter. “You’re killing me, do you know that noona”? He didn’t normally call you noona this often. You didn’t like how it made you feel. “What do you mean by that won”? He brings his hand up to your face, moving a stray hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. You subconsciously lean into his touch letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in until he touched you. “Everything you do drives me crazy. I don’t think you know how hard you’re making things for me baby”. The switch from noona to baby had your stomach in knots. You’d inched your face closer to his while he was talking. You were so close that it would only take one brief movement for your lips to touch. “please Jungwon”. You didn’t even know what you were asking for but Jungwon is quick to respond. “Hmm baby? What is it, tell me”. You had closed your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath trying to calm yourself down before things went any further. “Wonie, since when do you call me baby”? You’d never called him that before but the sentiment behind it spread a dangerous heat throughout his body. “Oh baby you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to call you this”. He was barely hanging on by a thread being this close to you. “Say it again, please”. “Hmm you like when I talk to you like this baby”? God he had no idea how much you liked it. “To be honest with you won, my body feels like it’s on fire right now with how close you are to me. I can hardly think about anything else”. At that all patience he has is long gone. He succeeds in caging you all the way against the counter. From this angle you can feel every part of his body.

Jungwon was pressed up against you so snugly that he’s leaving very little to the imagination. He’s hard against your thigh, you can almost make out the exact feel of his cock from the sheer proximity. You let out a groan completely surrendering yourself to him at this point. You move your hands up to grab his collar to bridge the gap between your lips. “Fuck, just kiss me Jungwon”. He wasted no time kissing you. He’s imagined the feel of your lips against his for so long that now you’ve let him have a taste there was no going back. The kiss isn’t slow, it’s anything but. Within seconds you two are all over each other. And within minutes you two have moved from the kitchen to the hallway. He’s trying to get you into his bedroom but at the pace you’re both going it’s more likely he’s going to fuck you hard and fast against the wall.

“Fuck, can’t believe you’re letting me kiss you like this noona”. You don’t respond you just slide your hand down his body and started cupping him over his jeans. His hips stutter taking a second to try and ground himself so he doesn’t grind up into your hand. He has no concept of self control right now as he loses himself in the feeling of your hand touching his cock. “oh fuck baby, your hand feels so good on my cock”. At this point he’s losing himself in the sensation of your hand unbuttoning his jeans and sliding your hand into his pants. You waste no time running your hand up and down his shaft trying to get a feel of him. “mm you better get used to the feel of it baby because I’m gonna fuck you so hard you aren’t gonna be able to walk in the morning”.

He’s quick to push your hand out of his pants and pushes you against the wall. His body is flush against yours when he leans back in to kiss you. He takes the opportunity to push the bottom of your dress up over your hips. He’s quick to move his hand in between your thighs. He rubs his thumb over your underwear earning a shudder from you as soon he makes contact with your clit. Your head falls back against the wall leaving your mouth open in a silent moan. In one swift movement Jungwon yanks your underwear down and starts his ministrations on your clit back up. A few minutes later he has two fingers fucking in and out of you at a harsh pace. Once he’s sure you’re ready to take his cock he pulls his fingers out of you which earns him a rather loud whine from you. He pulls his pants and underwear down in one go immediately lining himself up with your entrance. You’re bracing yourself for him to push into you but instead he simply takes the tip of his cock and starts rubbing it against your clit. It only takes him a few minutes to bring you to the brink of an orgasm. “Think you could cum like this noona”? Instead of answering you grip onto his forearm to steady yourself effectively positioning yourself to grind down back and forth on his cock. “want you to fuck me please wonie”. He can only shake his head, his hands seem to have a mind of their own speeding up the pace at which his tip was rubbing your clit. “wanna make you cum like this first noona”. It only takes him another 30 seconds before you’re both moaning into each other’s mouths as you cum.

He wastes no time picking you up and lining his cock up at your entrance. He meets no resistance as he starts to fuck you against the wall. Your body barely having had enough time to recover is shaking with overstimulation. Yet you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s fucking you so good. “you’re such a dirty fucking girl letting me fuck you against the wall like this”. His hips are starting to piston in and out of you at a blinding pace. He can’t help but let out a growl at how good your pussy feels around his cock. “Fuck, been waiting to have you like this for ages baby. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted”. You’re moaning so loud at this point you’re quite sure all of his neighbors can surmise what you’re up to. “You gonna be mine now that I’ve gotten to fuck your tight little pussy noona”? You can’t answer as your second orgasm of the night hits you like a truck and knocks all of the air out of you. You let out a scream so loud it could easily be mistaken as you being murdered. You aren’t sure when he finishes or even when he’s pulled out of you and gotten you into his room. But when you do come to he’s already gotten you cleaned up and changed into something more comfortable.

To your surprise there isn’t any awkwardness between you two. Jungwon is quick to reassure you of his feelings for you “god you look so beautiful right now. I hope you know you’re mine now baby”. You pull him into a deep kiss before adding “good, because I don’t plan on sharing you with anyone else”. He laughed at that before pulling you into his arms and settling down into bed with you.

You two have the what are we conversation the next morning after your haze of lust has lifted. It’s then that Jungwon admits how he truly feels about you and that he’s in love with you. After establishing your relationship he fucks you long and hard in his bed. By the time you two have finished he’s lived up to his promise of you not being able to walk the next morning.

[czytling]

The one where Tim Drake has his first sex scandal.... with himself.

Everyone knows how Red Robin and Tim Drake -Wayne hate each other, right? They have a very loud and public beef via Twitter. Also, there is a ton of fan edits and thrist trips with Tim Drake x Red Robin.

The public finds THE evidence. It was well hidden, but some good hacker managed to leak it. A real Tim/Red Robin sex tape, reel of Red Robin and Tim arguing and the thing getting heated, and them angling closer and closer together, until the kiss, and the camera dies just before it could show more than a single moment of them kissing and a hand moving lower, but it was *suggestive*.

----

Meanwhile, Tim (current Red Robin) and Red Robin (who is also Tim, just from a future or alternate universe) are like "bleh. This was weird. It was weird for you too, right? I don't have a narcissus complex or something? No? Great. Let's never do that again. Or mention it. But thanks for giving me a hand there, I started getting too much heat on my secret persona, this will throw them off."

Tbh, both Tims find the concept hilarious, even if the sacrifice needed to execute it was far too great. Chaos has always been their thing.

----

Meanwhile, a look at Batfamily.

Dick saw a clickbait and clicked at the video to laugh at shoddy fan edit of Tim kissing his vigilante persona, because he wanted some blackmail material to tease him about. He got a full performance of Tim kissing another Tim, and yes they were both real Tim, Dick can tell his brother in mask or not. His brain is melting. He is also desperately trying to bleach the image of his brother having sex with himself and also trying to put into thoughts what should he do now and how to give Tim a slight intervention about self-cest without mentioning anything that he just saw or un-bleaching his brain.

Bruce is near equally as disgusted. But some part of him also considers if he could do the same thing with his next time travelling/alternate self, you know, to confirm the fact that butts match while proving they are separate people and also because giving more fodder for Brucie/Batman ship is even better than Tim's enemies to lovers, considering it's public knowledge that Brucie funds Justice League and Batman.

Damian is disgusted. Cass is confused befuddled and baffled more than anything, she saw a passionate scene with no passion for each other but clear passion for optics and it just doesn't make sense.

(Note here that if you give a camera to *Two* photography nutjobs, their fak-ish sex tape will be the most artistically overdone thing you have ever seen. The lightning, and the angles, and the shots are all artisitically perfect despite seemingly being non-scripted and caught on camera by accident.)

Jason just doesn't know what to think. But it's disguisting and he is furious at his Replacement for sullying the Robin title like that. ("First off, I'm Red Robin and not Robin. Second, working girls should be respected too and that is your own rule. I don't see how this is any different, so stick to your own code, Hood")

Barbara was not the hacker who leaked it. In fact, she was desperately trying to un-leak it, but she had been on vacation with her dad when the tape premiered and by the time she heard of it, it breached containment and it was too late.

Young just us finds the whole thing hilarious. A bit too many members try not to think at all about whose place they would rather be in. No blushing here, none at all.

[jaeyunjakesim]

Sweltering -SJY

Cw/ Jake x f!reader/ established relationship/ m.dni/ car sex/ quickie/ oral f.r./ handjob m.r./ no protection/ alcohol mention/ swearing?/ not proofread/ lmk if I missed anything

// you pick up Jake from the Prada afterparty… things get stuffy //

Wc/ 2k

An/ my first work posted here! Lmk if you like it <3

It’s sometime past 11 at night, but god it’s sweltering outside. The boys spent the night at an after party for Prada while you stayed in a hotel room, only getting updates on them by checking fansites for pictures. Jake was largely not allowed to check his phone for public appearances like this, but it was still only slightly upsetting to you that you had to learn about his whereabouts from a third party.

However, it was now twenty minutes ago that you received a text from Jake asking to pick him up, which worried you. The wording wasn’t like him, too stilted for the way he usually spoke to you, even if it was only a quick text.

You know they have a ride back, probably a limo or something similar to pick them up, but the text was too off-putting for you to ignore, and you left as soon as you read it. You round a corner and park behind the building they’re in, shooting a text back to Jake that you made it.

Two minutes later a back door opens and you see your boyfriend and Jay walk out, Jake obviously drunk. You meet them in the middle,

“Is everything okay?” You try to leave the worry out of your voice, failing. Jay has an arm around Jake’s shoulders, not exactly holding him up but close enough to it. He sighs, holding up Jake’s phone in a way that makes you feel stupid for not realizing it wasn’t your boyfriend texting you at all.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just too much to drink. He wouldn’t stop asking for you. Can you take him back? He’s a little less than press presentable.” You melt a little at his words, finally making eye contact with your boyfriend.

Calling the look Jake gives you puppy eyes when you finally focus on him would be an understatement. His cheeks and nose are bright pink, and his eyes are shiny with intoxication, his perfect lips falling into a pout. Before you can even respond to Jay he’s reaching out for you, out of Jay’s grasp and slipping clumsily into your arms. You laugh at him, so so smitten.

“I’ll take him off your hands. Go back to the guys. Thank you for texting.” Jay nods wordlessly, handing you Jake’s phone before turning back. He’s probably thankful to be free of responsibility for a while.

Jake’s arms are wrapped around your neck, clinging to you like you’re going to run away. He must be pretty drunk then.

“I missed you.” He mumbles into your neck. You kiss his forehead gingerly, pocketing his phone with the arm not holding him up,

“I missed you too, baby. Did you have fun?” He nods, face still stuffed into your neck,

“I need you.” You try and pry him off you so you can get back into the car, but he’s stronger than you even drunk, and he won’t move.

“I’m right here, Jake. Let’s go back to the room okay?” He whines at this, grip around you becoming even tighter.

“No baby, I need you need you.” You still don’t quite get what he means until he starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck. Your hands fall to his waist.

“Jake we can’t, we’re in public.” You try and walk backwards towards the car, but he once again keeps you in place. He whines again into your throat and moves one of your hands below his belt buckle so you can feel him, his bulge prominent immediately. He sucking delicately on your neck and whining into your ears and your resolve is fizzling out quickly.

“Please baby, it hurts. I’ve needed you all night.” His whines are getting more and more desperate, and you both know you can’t resist him. In one motion you remove his mouth and hands from you, grabbing his wrist and yanking him towards the car.

You both climb into the back row of the car, sweating from the hot evening air. Jake doesn’t waste anytime pulling you into his mouth, plush lips against yours. His skin is on fire and he tastes like alcohol but he’s so addictive, and you can’t get enough. He looks so stupidly good in all black, his shirt already undone by two buttons and his hair disheveled in a way that makes you want to pull at it.

You knew he was drunk but it’s only obvious now how far gone he is by the way he’s kissing you, all tongue and teeth and it’s driving you crazy. Jake is always clingy when it comes to you, but drunk Jake? All bets are off. He becomes attached at the hip to you as soon as he’s got a few beers in him, and you can tell by his desperation and how hard he is he’s definitely had more than that tonight. He pulls back a fraction of an inch, both of you breathing heavy.

“Baby, I need to taste you.” He barely lets himself finish speaking before he’s pulling ungracefully at the waistband of your jeans and unbuttoning them. He pulls them down in tandem with your panties with a desperation you rarely see in him, pushing your legs open determinedly.

He’s always a people pleaser, even drunk, and he refuses to give you anything but his full attention when he goes down on you. he nips and licks at the inside of your thighs, looking at you with pupils blown wide.

You hear a mumble of “you look so good, baby,” before he loses his patience entirely and starts pressing his tongue flat against your core.

His hands on your hips are gentle but his mouth is mean, nose pressed into your clit as he laps up your wetness, already addicted to the taste. you’re hands on instinct weave their way into his hair, pulling on the dark locks. He groans against you in response, the pain and your high pitched whines only egging him on.

His thumb is rubbing slow circles into your hip, trying his best to go easy on you but it’s so so hard to hold back when he’s this horny. All night the only thing he’s been thinking about is your mouth and your pussy and how tight you are when he presses in for the first time, the night going from enjoyable to pure torture without you pressed against him. He moves his mouth back to press a kiss to your slit, reveling in the wetness of you before wrapping his lips around your clit and *sucking.* You cry out immediately at the stimulation, only at your resolve to be more weakened when you feel Jake’s finger pressing into you, your eyes pricking with tears at the pleasure. He starts pumping his finger into you at a brutal place, your brain almost going completely blank at the sensation. Almost.

“J-Jake, if you don’t slow down I’m go-“ He puts another finger in you, and you can feel the coldness of his rings when he presses them all the way into you.

“Jake!” You whimper pathetically, Jake knowing every little thing to please you. He creates even more suction on your clit and you’re so *so* close before you’re finally regaining enough willpower to push him off you. It’s a testament only to your desire to feel him inside of you that you relive yourself of his mouth and fingers, already uncomfortable at the loss of sensation.

When you make eye contact with Jake he looks upset, a kicked puppy who doesn’t know what he did wrong. His lips are red and swollen and his chin is covered in your slick, his eyes pleading with you to let him continue. You almost coo at him, so eager to please he forgets about his own arousal, and you try to console him.

You push his hair out of his eyes, “You did so good, baby. But I wanna feel you.” He moans in frustration, undoing his belt and pushing his slacks down, palming himself through his boxers.

And the way he looks right now is so irresistible you can’t help it when you sit up to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, your hands going down to replace his own. It doesn’t take long before he’s melting into your mouth and your hands, breathy moans being swallowed up by your kiss as your hands push his boxers down. You glide gently up his length, teasing him just a little because you know how sensitive he must be. His cock is already so wet, even without much effort from you, always so needy. He’s immediately putty in your hands, any ego he had before pouring into your mouth with his kisses.

His breath hitches when you tighten your hands just around the head of his cock, torturing him only for a moment before you’re back to stroking him gently.

“Good boy,” you say as you guide his head into your neck, his pathetic little noises only growing louder. “Always so good for me Jake.” He’s suckling into your neck again and you’re sure it’s going to leave marks but you don’t care, your hands moving faster against him. You know he’s already hard enough but Jake is almost never this submissive with you. You can’t resist him like this. But after only a few moments of your hands against his length he’s mewling into your throat, and you want to reward him for how patience he’s been all night.

“You ready, baby?” You say, giving him no time to answer before you’re positioning yourself and sinking down onto his length with no warning. He makes a noise in between a moan and a gasp, already struggling with how warm and wet your pussy is around him. You give him no time to adjust either before you’re bouncing up and down on his cock at a brutal pace.

All he can do is take it as his hands fall to your hips, powerless against you. He’s whining and whimpering pathetically, the alcohol making him so much more sensitive than normal, the wet sounds your pussy is making only sending him closer to the edge. His hands have barely ventured under your shirt when you notice his eyes struggling to stay open, so fucked out already.

You don’t let him catch his breath before you’re leaning into his ear, “Come on Jake, come in my needy pussy. Want you to fill me up good.” Your words and the way your walls tightened around him is what finally sends him over the edge, moaning your name as he comes inside you, pleasure almost immediately giving way to overstimulation. The feeling of him filling you up is what pushes you over as well, coming all over his cock.

You pull off him shortly after, laying back against the leather seats of the car with him against your chest. He’s still leaving kisses along the parts of your neck he can reach, ever affectionate in his altered state.

You’ll have to drive back to your hotel soon, where you’ll deal with a drunk, stubborn Jake who wants nothing to do with showering or skincare and only wants to fall asleep with you in his arms, but you know trying to move him right now is mean. And until you can coax him out of the back of the car and into the passengers seat you’re content feeling his lips against your skin and his mumbles of affection to you, grateful to Prada for the open bar tonight.

[starogeorgina]

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, character death, mentions of blood, incest

1.01

Soft moans fall from your mouth as you touch yourself. It was a sinful act, but you were so frustrated that you needed a healthy way of getting rid of all your pent-up anger before you exploded.

Even more sinful, you think of Jacaerys instead of your husband.

Rubbing at your clit, you think of the last time you saw him, how his cock stretched you perfectly as you rode him, and how decorations of love fell from your lips so easily.

It was never your intention to have sex; you’d only gone to his chamber to apologise for Aemond provoking him so childishly during the first meal both sides of your family had attended together since your wedding. You kissed Jacaerys's swollen knuckles tenderly, and soon you were straddling his lap and muffling his moans with your mouth. Afterwards he cleaned up the sticky mess between your legs, a mixture of his own seed and your arousal with his tongue.

Hearing a knock at the door, you jump up flustered. You fix the top of your nightdress and pray it isn’t Aemond; he would instantly know what you were doing.

The door opens, and Helaena walks inside. “Jaehaera won’t settle for the night; can the children spend the night together?”

You hated Aegon, but Helaena and her children were innocent, and it was best to keep things as normal as possible for all the children. “I’ve just put them to bed, but I’m sure they will be awake with excitement when I tell them.”

—

Your heart beats rapidly as you beg for someone to come and help. Your throat had become so raw from screaming that your voice was beginning to break. A trail of blood is left behind as your bare feet scrape against the cold stone floor; your loose nightdress was now coated in blood and clung to you like a second skin.

When you reach the bottom of the staircase, the only sound you can hear beside your own panting is the wails of your two children, their cries echoing in the deserted castle halls. Aerys was just a babe, far too young to understand what he had witnessed, but Cassana would always remember.

Turning another corner, you see a figure exiting a bedchamber. “Ser Criston, Ser Criston!”

Startled, he takes in your appearance, and for the first time the knight's eyes aren’t full of hatred when he looks at you. He may have helped usurp your mother's throne, but he was still human.

You gasp for air, your chest heaving as you try to find your voice. “My boy! My boy, they have taken my boy!”

“What is—” Alicent appears in the doorway behind the knight. She claps a hand over her mouth. “Mother, have mercy, what happened?”

You look between the two of them, and seeing how flustered she appears and how ashamed the knight looks, it immediately clicks why the knight is at the dowager queen's bedchamber during the night and not wearing his armour.

Alicent goes to stroke your youngest cheek, but you step away from them. “Don’t touch him! Venomous snakes, the lot of you! This is all your fault!”

—

Still afraid you run without stopping, hearing Criston and Alicent calling your name only makes you go faster, desperate to get away from them. Ser Criston was supposed to be protecting his king's family, but instead he chose to soil his white cloak.

And Aemond was patrolling the city on Vhagar.

When you get closer to the throne room, Aegon’s voice becomes clearer. He was spending his night making a mockery of his late father, your grandsire King Viserys, and all of House Targaryen by behaving like a drunk idiot while his own kin was being slaughtered.

“Aegon, Aegon!”

“I believe that’s my niece I can hear,” he chuckles.

His pathetic excuse of a kingsguard jested, “Perhaps she’s gotten bored of the prince’s cock and wants to know what it’s like to ride a real dragon!”

All the fools in the room laugh.

“Aegon!”

You run into the throne room and find him casually lying across the throne, completely unconcerned about the sharp spikes that could pierce his skin, surrounded by a new and pathetic excuse of a king guard.

“Aegon.”

The amusement quickly falls from his face when his eyes land on you. He stands up; his mouth twitches, but he says nothing.

“Aegon,” you sob hysterically. “I tried to stop them; I tried!”

He gets off the throne and walks towards you, “Who?”

“I don’t know. I screamed, and nobody came. They were in the twins' nursery.” Your breathing becomes ragged. “Laenor begged me to help him, but I couldn’t. I tried to swap my life for his, but they wouldn’t let me. A son for a son.”

“The twins…” His voice cracks. “What—what happened?”

“They… they took Laenor and Jaehaerys—” One of the older handmaidens tries to take your other children from your arms, but you refuse, “Stop it!”

Aegon grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “What did they do to Jaehaerys?”

“They took our son’s head.”

—

You cling to one of the pillars in the council chamber while the greens continue to discuss how to use your little son's death to their advantage. Aegon was against the idea, but Otto was worming his way in, taking advantage of a grieving parent.

They wanted to blame your mother.

She wouldn’t do this.

Not to you.

You wanted to be angry at Aegon for all the horrid things he had called your mother, and part of you did blame him, but after witnessing him collapse in the throne room, it was hard not to pity him. Aegon wasn’t the best father, but he also wasn’t the worst. He and Helaena were also victims in this.

“Perhaps we should hear from the princess,” Lord Larys says, steering the conversation away from how many enemies the greens have.

“I want my mother.”

You glance around the room, and everyone avoids making eye contact, aside from Grand Maester Orwyle. “You’ve already said that, princess.”

“What else am I supposed to say?” Tears sting your eyes. “I want my mother; I want Jacaerys. I just want to go home, but you people won’t let me!”

“This has been your home for many years,” Alicent’s tone is sharp.

“Even now, you offer me no sympathy or kindness,” you laugh maliciously. “I’d say you’d used up all your empathy on Helaena, but you are here forging the deaths of two innocent children into blades to strike at my mother. Those men only came tonight because of a war you started.“

The room falls silent until Otto clears his throat. “The princess is in shock—”

“Do not try to justify my words,” you snap. “I will not bow to a council that secretly conspired and undermined King Viserys wishes by usurping his chosen heir!” You let go of the pillar and place your hand over your stomach. “He wasn’t just a boy; he was my baby, my firstborn! And now he’s dead.”

Over the years you flew back and forth between the keep and Dragonstone, but since the day your mother's throne was usurped, you were forbidden from even leaving the castle.

Fingers trembling, you kneel down and reach for Aegon’s hand. “Kostilus, kostilus, ivestragī nyke return naejot Zaldrīzesdōron. Nyke don’t care qilōni sits va se dēmalion; nyke sepār jaelagon ñuha muña. Nyke don’t feel ȳgha kesīr. I’m zūgagon hen zirȳla. He’s se drīve mirre hen bisa ēza massitas, kostilus, aegon, uncle. Sepār ivestragī nyke gūrogon ñuha riñar naejot se zaldrīzes ripo.” (Please, please, let me return to Dragonstone. I don’t care who sits on the throne; I just want my mother. I don’t feel safe here. I’m scared of him. He’s the reason all of this has happened, please, Aegon, uncle. Just let me take my children to the dragon pit)

Tears roll down Aegon’s cheek, but he doesn’t say anything. His bloodshot eyes suddenly focus on something behind you, and without turning around, you know it’s Aemond; you can feel his gaze burning into the back of your head.

“You issi dāez naejot jikagon whenever jaelā, ābrazȳrys, yn se riñar kessa umbagon kesīr.” (You are free to go whenever you want, wife, but the children will remain here)

You hated him; you hated him more than Aegon and Alicent combined. He is the one who killed Luke and caused more blood to spill. The men, blood and cheese, said they were debt collectors and had come to take revenge on Prince Aemond Targaryen.

“He’s dead. They took his head, Aemond,” you storm towards him, shoving him hard in the chest, but he doesn’t flinch. “They took my son’s head when it should have been yours! Do you even care that Laenor and Jaehaerys are dead? Do you even feel anything?”

He says nothing.

You wipe at your eyes and nose. “I’m going to retire for the evening. I suggest you don’t visit the children’s nursery.”

—

“The larger one strangled my bedmaid.”Your eyes are heavy and swollen from crying so much the last few days. “They tried to make Helaena choose which child to kill. After they killed my boy, she chose Maelor. They… they taunted him, told him his mother wants him dead.”

“Yet they took little Jaehaerys’s head.”

Children’s toys scatter the floor of your bedchamber. Lip trembling, you pick up Laenor’s, a wooden seahorse that your grandsire had made for him. “I never thought anything would hurt more than losing my father, and in the space of a few weeks both Luke and my grandsire have died, my mother lost her babe, and now my sweet son has been taken from me.”

“I’m glad you’re able to find comfort in me, princess.”

Scoffing, you shake your head; you weren’t a fool. Larys Strong wasn’t to be trusted, but he could be useful. He once told you those who are never to speak must learn to observe, and that’s exactly what you’ve done the last few years. “Do you think my husband is stupid?”

“Of course not.”

“I do; he chased a boy on a dragon five times smaller than his own and had the audacity to act surprised that both Luke and Arrax are dead. Vhagar killed them because it’s what her rider wanted.”

Over the years, you’ve been careful to observe how he uses people and noticed his affection for the queen. The lord cocks his head to the side. “What is it you want?”

“They say Harrenhal is a cursed place; I suppose you must agree. The fire that killed your father and brother was the one in the damp castle since Balerion ended the line of Harren the Black.”

A wicked smirk spreads across his face. “You’ve been paying attention; I’m glad.”

“Hmm,” you look away from him to the lit fire, which was providing the majority of the light in the room. “We both know regardless of who sits on the throne, more blood will spill, and that queen and her king consort will bring fire and blood.”

“Strong words.”

The way he emphasises the word strong is supposed to get under your skin, but you let it slide. Out of the four children of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen, you were the only one who doesn’t have ‘strong’ features, which is probably the only reason Alicent wanted you to marry her son.

“I’ll speak plainly,” you turn and stare directly into his menacing eyes. “Help me, and I will have you spared when my mother reclaims her castle. I should add that I simply do not care if you tell the green council; I don’t think anyone would be surprised to know the daughter of the queen they usurped is plotting against them.”

“It could be some time before the gods decide who sits on the throne; what can you offer me in the meantime?”

“Information. Help me cause chaos within the greens council, and I’ll tell you who Alicent Hightower is fucking.”

[oldestfriend-invisibly]

Little 'Pril- Camping

Hello!! This is my first agere fic, based on the series 3 episode 'Camping'. April isn't enjoying the mandatory office camping trip and ends up having a meltdown and regressing (Tiny Baby 'Pril at the end as a treat!!).

Hurt/Comfort, 2.4K words.

Warnings- brief mention of harmful stimming during a meltdown. (It is very brief, but if you wanted to skip it, it's from "April, could you come out here, please?" to 'Ron decided the best course of action was to wait this one out'.)

...

April was really not enjoying this camping trip. Truthfully, she was only there because Andy had talked her into going, at least he would be there for her to hang out with. It would be bearable with Andy there. They could make spooky noises outside Leslie’s tent in the middle of the night, and fill Jerry’s sleeping bag up with leaves. 

Except Andy wasn’t there. April was stuck outside in the woods, sat on a log with her annoying colleagues, wearing a coat that made a nasty scraping sound whenever she moved her arms to pick at the bark of the log she was sitting on, and Andy wasn’t there. 

She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm the overwhelming frustration bubbling up within her so she could focus on Leslie, who was currently desperately badgering them for ideas on how to follow up the Harvest Festival. But it was hard to focus on Leslie over the off-putting freshnes of the air, and the incessant noise of that stream flowing somewhere nearby, and the small voice in her head repeating over and over that she didn’t wanna be here!

“April?” The girl's head whipped upwards to see Leslie peering down at her expectantly. Assuming the older woman wanted her input, April simply mumbled-

“Didn’t come up with anything.”

“Why?”

“Because,” April started snapping, before shrinking back into herself under Leslie’s scrutinising glare. “Whatever we come up with isn’t gonna be good enough anyway. We’re just gonna go with your idea.” She kept her gaze fixed on her lap, too overwhelmed to meet Leslie’s eyes.

A low murmur of agreement made its way round the circle. That was slightly reassuring, at least. She sucked in another deep breath, telling herself that maybe she’d manage not to curl into a ball and scream, or violently murder one of her colleagues before Andy arrived after all. But then-

“I’m really disappointed in all of you.” 

Leslie then added something about taking an hour to clear their heads, but April had stopped listening. Being stuck in the woods, in nature which she hated? She could maybe cope with; gritting her teeth and wincing whenever she moved and her coat made that horrid sound. Being there without Andy? With the promise that he was on his way and would soon be there for her to curl up against and pretend she was back at home; she could just about handle. And if it weren’t for the decidedly awful day she was already having, April would’ve been able to withstand Leslie’s disappointment.

Finally looking up, she met Leslie’s eyes, which reflected all of the disappointment in her voice, with her own that were now welling up with tears. April really needed to go home now. Home wasn’t an option, however, so she took the next most immediate solution that pushed its way through the loudness in her head. She stood up off of the log, and almost tripped over it in her haste to turn around and get away. The group watched, stunned, as the girl stormed off into the trees behind them, a sound somewhere between a strangled sob and a scream leaving her.

After a moment of silence, Ron stood up with a sigh. “Well, one of us should probably follow after her.” Despite the open statement, there was an unspoken knowledge that he was the one who always followed after the girl in moments like this. 

So, Ron stepped out of the circle, and before he started off in the direction April had fled in, he quickly went over to the car, picking up the bag he knew had been stashed in the trunk. 

… 

In her search for somewhere to hide, April had squeezed her way into the remnants of some Boy Scout group’s stick fort. She was sitting with her legs crossed though she shifted restlessly, trying to work out some of the frustration that seemed to buzz inside of her. She picked up a few twigs, snapped them in two, and threw the pieces back on the ground like they had personally offended her. April imagined each twig she snapped and discarded was another of her stupid annoying coworkers who were stopping her from going home. The coat had been torn off somewhere near the fort’s entrance, and she was really hoping a raccoon or something would steal it and she’d never have to see it ever again. 

Even with the coat gone, April’s head was still much too noisy. She felt angry, and frustrated, and sad, and guilty, and lonely all at the same time, and the girl wasn’t anywhere near big enough to handle it all by herself. 

April let out another cry, which did nothing to lessen ever-growing heaviness in her chest as her fifth call in a row to Andy failed to connect. Why couldn’t Andy just be here already! Stupid stupid stupid phone!

Her eyes filled with tears once again, and she threw the phone as hard and far as she could, not looking up to see where it landed. In the haze of her meltdown, April didn’t register the cracking of twigs indicating someone approaching the fort. 

“Careful you don’t break that thing, it keeps you from doing your job properly, I appreciate that.” Ron squatted down awkwardly in front of the two logs serving as the doorway, debating how he could climb through, if necessary, whilst making as little of a fool of himself as possible. He peered inside to see the little girl, who now held her knees tight against her chests and was chewing on the end of one of her braids.

“Go ‘way” April huffed angrily, though her voice wavered, bordering on a whine and muffled by her hair. 

“April, could you come out here, please?”

Why did he not understand? Unless he was here with Andy, or with news of Andy, or to take her home, she wanted him to leave her alone. 

“No! Go ‘way. Go ‘way!”, she repeated, though this time some of her tears began to fall, and she buried her face in her knees in an attempt to dampen the sob she could no longer contain. Her frustration finally bubbled over and she lifted her head momentarily, only to bring it back, hitting it against the tree behind her.

“Ok, nope”, Ron decided he couldn’t wait any longer to intervene. His prior concerns about looking like a fool were disregarded when he noticed April’s eyes were now screwed shut as more tears escaped in ribbons down her cheeks. 

Not wanting to startle the girl and overwhelm her further, Ron began to shush gently so she knew he was there, before placing a firm hand between April’s head and the tree. Hand now cupping the back of her head, he guided the little one to rest against him. 

“Let’s take this out, hm?”. April whined as the braid was pried from her mouth, instantly replacing it with her thumb. Ron winced inwardly, knowing the little one’s hands probably weren’t clean. However, with her being as worked up as she currently was, he wanted to minimise further upset, deciding he’d swap her thumb out for her pacifier once she calmed down.

“Can you tell me what’s going on, April?”. He winced as the girl frantically shook her head, “Noooo!”, and began to cry heavier. She started hitting her head again, though this time against the soft barrier of Ron’s chest, and with much less vigour as her energy had clearly started to wane. 

Ron decided the best course of action was to wait this one out, though he figured could still try to help her calm down on her own. He reached back with the hand that wasn’t rubbing up and down the small girl’s arm and managed to unzip the bag he’d brought with him. From the bag, he retrieved a slightly worn dog plush. He offered it to April, who grabbed it with trembling fingers, and pressed the fuzzy material of the dog’s ear against her cheek. 

Now, with the secure pressure of Ron’s arms and the familiar soothing fabric of her stuffy, the weight in April’s chest and the noise in her head started to fade. Having noticed the girl’s overwhelmed whines slowing, and feeling her tense body finally relax into his arms, Ron hummed, once again wanting to avoid startling April when he made his next move. Carefully, he straightened up, shifting April up from where she had been resting against him. 

“Good girl, there you are.” Watery brown eyes briefly met his once he swept April’s fringe back into place. “Think you’re ready to let me know what’s going on?” he softly pried, and had to hide his surprise when the girl nodded.

“Wanna go home. Want Andy but Andy not here, an’ Leslie angry at us.” April’s eyes began to water again, but Ron just kept running his hand in calming motions up and down her arm and let her carry on. “An’ coat an’ stream make bad noises an’ make head hurt an’ feel yucky. Hate forest without Andy, an’ wanna go home”. 

“Thank you for telling me, April. Good Girl.” he praised, knowing April rarely articulated her feelings so clearly when regressed and overwhelmed. 

Now that April had calmed, Ron gently pulled her thumb from her mouth, and instead offered her the black bat pacifier he had retrieved from the bag. Although April wasn’t currently as little as she usually was when it came to using her pacifier, she immediately accepted the comfort it brought. 

“Do you think you’re ready to head back? We can talk to Leslie about making sure she isn’t angry with you. We can also see about having someone drive to pick up Andy and get him here quicker, and if that isn’t possible, we can then look at getting you home. Does that sound alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. Can stay here for a bit first though?” Despite the pain in his back begging him to insist otherwise, Ron couldn’t deny the girl a moment more peace and quiet, especially after the day she’d had.

Once again huddled in Ron’s arms, though this time much more relaxed, April fully felt the stress and tension of the day slip away. The promise that they’d help her see Andy sooner made her smile, and she hummed contentedly. After a few more minutes, the girl’s breath finally evened out fully, and she felt ready to head back to the others.

Ron deliberately played up his struggle clambering out of the fort, which had the girl in a fit of giggles before she expertly climbed out after him.

Taking her hand in his, Ron led April back to the campsite, stopping along the way to pick up her phone, and the coat (which April was annoyed to see hadn’t been taken away by any wildlife). 

…

Later that evening, curled up against Andy’s side, wrapped in her blanket with her dog and her pacifier, April decided she didn’t hate camping so much after all. The night was cloudy, so she couldn’t see the stars. She’d tried to explain to the others why they freaked her out so much, but she could tell they were just nodding in support. 

The warmth of the campfire burning in front of her wrapped around her. The light conversation of the others huddled around the fire washed over her soothingly, though she made little effort to tune into anything being said. 

The little one had clung to Andy’s side almost exclusively since he’d finally arrived, babbling to him about how silly Ron had looked trying to climb out of the stick fort. However, once the excitement of Andy arriving had worn off, and the group as a whole had decided to light a fire and chill out for the evening, April let herself drop fully. 

She was so exhausted from the intense emotions and the meltdown she’d experienced that day, but now everything was finally ok again. Leslie had assured April that she definitely was not disappointed in her, and had even admitted that she didn’t have any ideas either. Ann had poured some of the hot chocolate she made into a sippy cup for the girl, which now sat warmly in her stomach. 

April stretched, letting out a contented squeak as she yawned and settled back against Andy’s side, her eyes starting to flutter closed. A series of awws and coos echoed around the circle.

“Andy, I think it’s time we get April into her sleeping bag for the night. You wanna come too, or stay out here, Buddy?” Ann spoke softly. Andy, who had also regressed when sat around the campfire, though wasn’t as young as April, shook his head with a grin, melted marshmallow stuck to his cheeks.

“No, I wanna stay here. I wanna eat more marshmallows!” Ann smiled, shaking her head as she chuckled. 

“Sure thing, Sweetie. Think you could help me carry her to bed first?” Another enthusiastic nod from Andy who scooped the younger girl up with an adorable level of care and followed Ann towards their tent. 

“Thank you so much, Buddy.” Ann said, starting to manoeuvre the exhausted girl into her sleeping bag. She inwardly thanked God that April hadn’t made a fuss at being separated from Andy, though she supposed the girl was just too little and too sleepy to care now. 

Andy saluted to Ann, and then leant down to kiss April on the cheek. “G’night, Pril” Andy whispered.

“Nunight”, the sleepy girl replied, slightly garbled around her pacifier.

Straightening up, Ann turned to Andy. “Only two more marshmallows, okay Andy?” The boy nodded again, and bounded out of the tent. Ann carefully wiped April’s face clean from where Andy had gotten sticky melted marshmallow on her, and then gently undid the plaits in April’s hair.

The feeling of Ann’s fingers running through her now slightly wavy hair brought another contented noise out of the little one. She brought her soft blanket up to her face, tucking her dog plushy in against her cheek, and let the soothing motions of Ann’s fingers and the older woman’s low humming drag her down into sleep. 

Before she was fully claimed by dreaming, she mumbled to Ann, unsure if the words were intelligible around the pacifier and muffled by her blankie- “like campin’ now.”

April was fast asleep before she could hear if Ann replied.

[seoups]

close as strangers - y. itadori

yuji thought everything would be the same when he came back. cw: angst w a bittersweet ending song: close as strangers by 5sos a/n: if i have an opportunity to write angst, i will take it.

"TELLING YOU I HAVENT SEEN YOUR FACE IN AGES. FEELS LIKE WE'RE AS CLOSE AS STRANGERS."

Yuji spent an entire month picturing this moment.

In every spare moment- between training in the basement, laughing with Gojo, and going on missions with Nanami- he thought about you.

He daydreamed about seeing your face again. About wrapping you in one of the tightest hugs he could manage and spinning you around until you laughed and smacked his shoulder as hard as you could, so he’d put you down.

He thought about sitting next to you at lunch and stealing bites from your food, sending you stupid TikTok’s that made you giggle at late hours, walking you back to your dorm room after missions just to talk to you a little longer.

And when he finally saw you standing there with Megumi and Nobara, he thought- Finally.

“Hey! Didja miss me?” He grinned, expecting a dramatic reaction. “You absolute dumbass,” Nobara scoffed, slamming a fist into his shoulder that was a touch too hard to be playful. Megumi let out a sigh of exasperation, “Welcome back.” Yuji laughed, rubbing his arm where Nobara had punched him, and turned to you, “And you? I bet you were devastated without me!” You blinked at him, lips parting, eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, after a second too long, you smiled, “Yeah, I missed you a lot.”

It wasn’t what you said. It was how you said it. Like you were forcing the words out. Like you weren’t sure if they were true.

For the first time since he’d come back from the dead, Yuji felt uneasy.

He told himself things would go back to normal. You just needed time. You were probably still in shock. Afterall, he had died. That was a lot to deal with.

So, he gave you space. He didn’t want to push you further than you were ready. But after a few days of dry texts and halfhearted smiles, he decided enough was enough.

“Let’s go out.” You looked up from your textbook, brows knit together, “What?” “On a date! Y’know. Movies, snacks, maybe the arcade? Classic,” He grinned, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Come on, it’ll be fun! It’s been forever since we hung out. Plus, I heard human earthworm 4 is in theatres.”

You hesitated.

And that hesitation hit him harder than any curse ever could.

“Yuji…” you sighed, closing your book. “I don’t know if-” “Oh, nope- none of that!” He wagged a finger at you. “No excuses! You need a break. I need to make up for lost time. And I want to spend time with you, so… let’s go!”

There was an ounce of desperation in his voice that he hoped you couldn’t hear.

You stared at him for a long moment. Then, finally you agreed.

Relief flooded his chest so fast it made him lightheaded. Maybe things could go back to normal.

They couldn’t.

Yuji had tried everything. Everything he’d done with you before. New things. None of it was working.

He took you to a movie and cracked jokes through the trailers, but you had barely laughed. He won you a stuffed dog from a claw machine but you didn’t tease him for going all out like you normally would.

He filled the silence with endless conversation- jumping from one random topic to the next- but your answers were always short, your laughter never quite reaching your eyes.

It was like trying to hold onto something that was slipping through his fingers.

But Yuji was good at ignoring things. He could push down the sting in his chest and drown it out with more conversation, more jokes, more desperate attempts at being normal. But when he walked you back to your dorm room and reached for your hand, you pulled away.

It wasn’t dramatic. Not like you were disgusted or unhappy with it. Just… instinctively. Like you didn’t even realize you were doing it. Yuji felt his heart shatter.

He didn’t bring it up.

Instead, he tried harder. He called you every night, sent you stupid tiktoks, and went out of his way to be around you.

And at first, you humored him. You answered his calls, texted back, and sat with him at lunch.

But it was different.

And deep down, he knew that too.

He just couldn’t admit it.

Because if he admitted it, then he’d have to face it. And he wasn’t prepared for that.

The night he finally let himself say it out loud, it was raining.

You sat across from him in a tiny ramen shop that Yuji had sworn was amazing, your hands curled around a steaming bowl, looking exhausted. Not just physically- but in the way you held yourself, in the way you looked at him, like this conversation had been waiting to happen for a long time.

Yuji gripped his chopsticks a little too tightly, feeling the developing indent on his fingers, “You’re different.” You exhaled slowly, staring down at your food, “So are you.” His chest tightened, “I don’t want to be.” For the first time that night, you looked him in the eyes, “Neither do I.”

Silence.

The rain pattered against the windows, the hum of ongoing conversations around them buzzing like static.

Finally, Yuji spoke, his voice quieter than usual, “We’re not us anymore, are we?” You swallowed hard, “No, I don’t think we are.”

He should have seen this coming. Maybe he had seen it coming and had just been in denial.

“I really wanted this to work,” his voice cracked, barely above a whisper. You nodded, “Me too.”

Another long pause.

Then, you reached across the table, reading your hand in his, “You’re still my favorite person, Yuji.”

His breath hitched.

Yuji forced a small smile on his face, not allowing this to end on a heavy note, “Yeah?” You smiled, tired but real, “yeah.” He flipped his hand, curling his fingers around yours, “You’re mine too.”

You squeezed his hand, just once. And then, slowly, you let go.

And this time, Yuji let you.

[tetsuskei]

the more i think about it, the more i realize how pathetic ayato would be as a lover

[ghostsanctity]

Simon had always known he was possessive, but this… this was something new. It all started during a rambling, half-drunk conversation with Soap, the kind they’d both forget by morning—except for one comment that had lodged itself in Simon’s mind like a splinter.

“Lass can’t forget you if she’s knocked up with your baby,” Soap had muttered with a lopsided grin, slurring just enough to make Simon dismiss it at first.

At first.

Simon knew you’d never forget him, no matter how long he was deployed. He trusted you, loved you in ways he couldn’t always put into words. But once the thought was planted, he couldn’t forget it. Maybe deep down it was the fear you’d leave or just the desire to know that you were fully his, round with his child, but whatever it was, when he got notified of an upcoming assignment, he knew he was gonna damn well try.

Which is how you ended up here now, pressed into the mattress beneath him, his broad chest blanketing your back as his lips dragged heatedly along your neck. He reaches around, pulling your body up enough for you to stabilise yourself as he roughly palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers as he continues to rut against you.

He's been at it for hours, fucking you with a relentless intensity, determined to fill you with every drop of his cum before he leaves. You’ve lost count at this point, never knowing he could go for so many repeated rounds but you certainly know it now as you feel his cum run down your thighs, the squelching noise every time he fucks back into you, a combination of your arousal and how many loads he’s given you so far tonight.

"Fuuck-" he groans, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "Gonna knock you up so good. Gonna make sure you're round with my baby by the time I get back."

He pulls out, his cock sliding from your well-fucked hole 

He stares down at your pussy, mesmerised by the sight of it dripping with his cum. He leans down, his face mere inches from it as his heated breath ghosts your folds. He watches, transfixed, as another thick spurt of his previous load oozes out of you.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. "Look at that. Look at what you do to me."

He reaches out, his fingers gently parting your swollen lips to get a better look. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly before scooping up some of the cum that's leaking out and guiding it back in with his middle and ring finger.

He pushes his fingers deeper, scissoring them to work his own cum back inside you. He wants to make sure every last drop takes.

"Gonna plug you up-" he growls, his voice rough with lust. "Keep you nice and full of me.”

He withdraws them, glistening with the thick, pearly fluid before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing his fingers against your lips.

"Go on-" he purrs as he slowly pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck them clean. You can taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the musky scent of your arousal. It's a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice rough with approval. "Such a good girl for me."

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, only to bring them back down to your pussy. He circles your clit with them, the slickness of his cum providing the perfect lubrication before he gestures for you to roll onto your back.

He straightens back up as he slides the head of his aching cock through your folds, nudging the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that do nothing to satisfy the ache inside you.

"Y’not going anywhere," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Not after this- fuck -you’re not leaving me…You can’t–”

You could hear the subtle desperation in his words, a fear that you'd abandon him. He needed to know that you would be here, waiting for him, even when he was deployed.

He kisses desperately, trying to put every fiber of his being into this kiss, hoping to portray even a fraction of the strong love he felt for you. His hips start to move again, his cock sliding into you with a groan. He sets a slow, deep pace, each thrust deliberate and purposeful as he works himself in and out of you.

"Fuck, I love you," he grunts, the words torn from him. "Love you so fucking much…You're my everything, I swear I’ll never let you down-"

He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, fingers digging into your flesh as he impales you on his thick cock over and over again.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "So fucking tight and wet for me. Always so ready for my cock, god you’re perfect-."

He adjusts his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts so that he's hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your back arches off the bed as your nails rake down his back and you moan wantonly.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice husky with desire. "Gonna' fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes before I leave-

His hips piston faster, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He's getting close, you can tell by the way his muscles tense, the way his breath comes in short, sharp gasps.

"Gonna cum," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Shit- fuck-”

He buries himself to the hilt, incoherent mutterings rolling off his tongue as his cock pulses, filling you with another thick load. He bites down on your shoulder to muffle his groans as you feel it, hot and heavy, painting your insides white. He collapses on top of you, all his weight heavy upon you, though you don't mind at all, arms wrapping tightly about him.

He stays buried inside of you, his now softening cock still buried deep within you. He rests his forehead against yours as his breath comes in short pants, trying to catch his breath.

"I meant what I said, you know…gonna' make you mine in every way possible," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he lifts some of his weight off of you. "Want you to have my baby- And when I come back, I'm gonna marry you because I’m completely yours and I want you to be fully mine, officially."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© ghostsanctity → do not copy or translate any of my works

[webism]

pornstar!toji who is known for being easy with his scenes. he's there for a good fuck and an even better paycheck: it doesn't matter who, or where, or how... if he's being paid he will do it. he doesn't mind getting nasty, and so he's often booked for more exotic scenes. he fucks good, and he fucks a lot.

pornstar!toji who is strapped for cash one week after an unfortunate loss on the horses, and takes the first scene offered to him. a vanilla fuck with a new-to-the-scene pornstar with potential... at least that's what his agent, shiu, tells him. he's confused on what potential he's hinting at until he rocks up ten minutes late to the shoot and lays eyes on you, already naked and on the stage bed. you have a look to you that makes a man like toji feel obliged to drop to his knees.

pornstar!toji who is already harder than he has been in a long time when shiu clarifies that when he called you 'new to the scene' he meant it: this is your first porn shoot. and though you're not a virgin, toji has the honour of taking your first time on camera... and god does he love the thought.

pornstar!toji who is greeted with a small smile and a soft 'hello' from you, shy beneath his gaze as if you aren't naked and soon to be stuffed full of his cock. he watches your eyes shift, from his piercing eyes to his beautifully scarred lip to the gorgeous tone of his body, all the way down to his awfully large cock. he can tell you're nervous, worried about taking all of him on film.

pornstar!toji who isnt good with gentle comforts, but still wants you to feel at ease with him. so, despite his instructions for a simple fuck scene, toji attacks you with deep kisses first, gets you used to the burning heat of his body against yours. and when you're melted enough against his skin he trails down and eats you out for a long twenty minutes. production would try and stop him, but he's already tipsy on your taste and the moans leaving your lips are, frankly, made for porn.

pornstar!toji who revels in the way your back arches off the mattress—he'd accuse you of putting on a show for the cameras if your hips weren't bucking up against his face in an almost primal need. he can taste it on you, the genuine lust, the way you drip wet on his tongue and still grab at his hair for more. and when he gives you more—when he finally slips his cock into you—he can't help himself from groaning out something needy. he's the silent type, letting his costar take center stage, but god can he not keep quiet feeling your walls wrapped around him.

pornstar!toji who has never had an issue with porn before, but with your legs wrapped around his waist, your eyes locked onto his as he pumps in and out of you with white hot need, he finds he hates the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. he's not a possessive man, he shouldn't feel this way, but he does. even the watchful stares of the cameramen piss him off, and he finds his hips moving faster and his cock nestling deeper inside of you just to show them that he's the one pleasing you.

pornstar!toji who can't help but kiss you as you both cum in unison. he ruins the shot, the cameras cant see your orgasm face when he's swallowing your moans like they're sweet wine. he's surprised his pay doesn't get cut for it.

when pornstar!toji does get paid, it's the first cheque in a very long time that he doesn't blow the same night it comes through. because he doesn't have time to go out and waste his money: he's at home fucking his fist to the film you made together and mentally degrading himself for being so pussy whipped. he strokes himself in time with his own thrusts in the video, and tries so desperately to recall your taste on his tongue, but its fruitless. he's agitated and sexually frustrated and keeps reloading your personal pages to see if you've filmed with anyone since him.

pornstar!toji who becomes so lost in his own mind that he starts turning down shoots with other actors—shoots with good pay. he's done everything under the sun, done all the hardcore porn and weird fetish content but now that he's gotten a fresh taste of plain passion sex with you, he can't stomach anything else. he'd say your name, he knows it—and it doesn't help that he hasn't been able to reach orgasm for a week without thinking of you.

pornstar!toji who, after three weeks of pure misery, decides to make a move. he doesn't do dates or romantic nights on the town. he doesn't do flowers or sweet nothings or eye contact even, but he finds himself contacting shiu and threatening the poor man in hopes of your real name, your address, anything.

and you, late one evening fucking yourself on your fingers to the brink of frustrated tears because they're not his cock. even more disgruntled when theres a pounding knock at your front door, and after cleaning yourself up a little you swing it open to find pornstar!toji stood in the rain outside. and you can only take him in—his heavy build and desperate eyes—before he's crashing his lips against yours, walking you into your own home and kicking the door shut behind him.

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀“WHAT?! SEX BAN?!”

﹅ contains ;; gojo satoru , kento nanami , choso kamo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , geto suguru

﹅ alt title ;; how long the jjk men can withstand the sex ban

﹅ warnings ;; sorta sub!choso , whiny!choso , toji's part is more explicit than the others , this is my first time writing for some of the character so i'm sorry if i didn't describe them well

GOJO SATORU (3 days)

“are you serious?” gojo groans, slumping forwards. gojo watched in disappointment as you crossed your arms, looking away from him. "you did it so you have to pay." for weeks, you've been trying to tell gojo to separate the colors from the whites while doing laundry. him just wanting to get it over with, he dumped them all in the same load, ruining some of your favorite pieces of clothing.

"baby, please. i won't do it again," he begs, kneeling in front of you. but to no avail, you stood your ground.

it only took him 3 days to convince you to wave your white flag, surrendering to his seduction. "you look good in my shirts." gojo's hands caress your hips as he presses his chest to your back. "i would be in my clothes if you would just listen to me." you huff, "i never said i was disappointed." gojo whispered, his hard-on pressing on your ass.

“please. just drop the ‘sex ban’. i said i was sorry.” his lips make a trail of kisses on your neck. you needed him too. whenever he wasn’t around, you would use your toys, trying to not let gojo know you were sexually needy. but they didn’t work.

RYOMEN SUKUNA (not happening!)

no. just no. it’s funny that you even thought about putting that in motion. sukuna was too desperate for sex but never wanted to admit it.

“no,” he stood above, crossing his arms, making himself seem bigger than you (as if he even needed to do that). “you can’t deprive me of sex, woman.” he grunts. “but i can, kuna. that’s what you fail to realize.” you tut, standing up to walk away.

one of his four arms wraps around your waist, throwing you back on the soft surface. "you're not going through with this." he growls in your ear, crawling go top of you.

how dare you even think such a thing? you were his woman, his twin flame. you were the only person he showed the littlest respect to and you decide to do some foolery like this.

he tugs your shirt over your head, your bra coming next. his rough hands slide over your chest. "such beauty..." he whispers. "i'll make sure you never think of this again.

KENTO NANAMI (it was on accident)

his job was taking him away from you. between being a jujutsu sorcerer and a businessman, he couldn't find time to be a partner for you.

due to the lack of attention you were receiving, you became sexually pent up, having the urge to pleasure yourself at the worst times. the feeling of neglect was creeping up on you. some days, you forgot nanami even lived with you.

"love, i'm home." nanami tugs off his tie, tossing it to the side. "i don't know how long i can take of this." he rubs his temples, deeply sighing as he led himself to your shared bedroom. before his hand touched the cold metal knob, he heard your muffled moans and the squelching of your cunt.

he slowly opens the door, peeking in the room before fully entering. "it seems i've neglected you." he watches as you quickly cover yourself as if he hasn't seen you naked many times. he unbuttons the top of his shirt as he saunters to the edge of the bed, removing the covers off you.

"seems like i have some things to make up for."

CHOSO KAMO (not even a day)

"please." he whines, his head resting on your lap as he looks up at you. ever since you shared your first time with choso, he's been going at it with you like rabid dogs. if he wasn't inside you, his head was squished in between his thighs.

"choso, i need a break." you sigh, trying to remove him from off you. his grip on your legs was tight as he put his face in between your thighs, shaking his head. he was acting like he couldn't survive without your cunt somehow being involved.

"i swear, i'll leave you alone after. just please," he whined. you couldn't resist him for much longer. you hated when he got all whiny like a baby. he was spoiled because of you.

"fine." you undo the tie of your sweatpants before his hands swatted yours away, tugging your pants and panties off. "i promised you." he kisses your inner thigh before his tongue began flicking away.

TOJI FUSHIGURO (mans was balls deep in you the second you said it)

"you really think so?" he darkly chuckles, rubbing himself on you. "toji, i'm sorry. please." you whine, wiggling your ass on his cock. "i don't think you are." he teases, stepping away from you.

you whine, following him. "it was a joke." you press your hand on his chest. "did i laugh?" he tilts his head, smirking at you. you sigh, "toji, i'm sorry." you press yourself against him, your chest touching his.

"fuck." you knew he couldn't resist the feeling of your chest on him. it was like heaven to him. "turn around." he grunts, gripping your hips to turn you around, bending you over.

he easily slid inside of you due to how wet you got over time. "don't say stuff you don't mean, baby." he laughs, thrusting into your backside. it was worth it.

GETO SUGURU (you gave in after implementing it)

you wanted to test geto's limits, giving him an extra nnn moment which made you realize something. it was always you initiating sex. "geto, please. i give up." you whine, following him around the house.

he chuckles, "everyone must deal with their consequences, my love." he turns to you. he plastered a sinister smile, taunting you. he saw how much you needed him but he wasn't caving in until he heard you say it.

"i'll do anything. my hand isn't even working anymore." you simper. it was starting to become frustrating seeing how calm he was about all of this as you were suffering.

"i need you! is that what you wanted to hear?" you shout, earning a grin from him. he walks closer to you, his finger tracing your jawline, "why didn't you say that sooner, love?" he chuckles.