#yes we have indeed reached: seeing red

[aemondsbabe]

Deliverance

summary: following your nephew's death, you find aemond in need of comfort. as his older sister, who are you to deny him?

pairing: aemond targaryen x sister!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, mentioned canon death, infidelity technically but reader's husband is cool with it and understands that she comes from a weirdo family cough cough incest cough, lactation kink, hurt/comfort, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, titty sucking, angst but happy ending, otto cameo ew, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 7.4k

a/n: *slams fist on table* i need for him to suck on my boobie

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @feodor-dostoevsky

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“Shall I fetch Maester Orwyle once we return to your chambers, Princess?” Your handmaiden, Edyth, questions as the two of you make your way up one of the many winding staircases in the Red Keep – each step making you wince. 

“Yes, please,” you sigh, ever grateful that she had always seemed to have a knack for predicting your requests before you had the chance to voice them, “Perhaps tell him to prepare some of the same soothing balm he gave to Helaena?” 

“Of course, Princess,” Edyth nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, ever the optimist, “I believe it should help with your aches, I remember it seemed to help the Queen after…” She trails off, breath hitching in her throat.

A heavy silence seems to fall over the two of you, the same that had been blanketing the entirety of the palace for the past few days. You swallow thickly, battling against the lump suddenly growing at the back of your throat and merely nod your head in simple understanding, offering her a tight-lipped smile, “I’m sure it will be of great help, Edyth, thank you.” 

Ever since… it had happened, the Red Keep feels as if it’s made of eggshells, like one small gust of wind could knock it right over. Everyone’s so on edge, terrified of saying too much or too little, the wrong thing at the wrong time. The stress of it all seems nearly suffocating, though you still have a feeling the worst was yet to come. 

Suddenly, someone calls your name from behind you and you turn, smiling once you see your grandsire striding toward you.

“A raven arrived earlier from Gwayne,” Otto explains, deep voice carrying down the empty hallway, “He’s reached Oldtown safely, everything seems to be well there.”

“Oh, wonderful,” you nod, grateful for news of your husband.

“Indeed,” he continues, “Daeron seems to be in good spirits, happy to come home; they’re to depart tomorrow, as scheduled… forgive me, I meant to tell you before supper but it seems to have slipped my mind.”

“Everything has been so hectic of late, please don’t trouble yourself. He arrived safely and will be back all the sooner for it, that is what matters.”

“Of course,” Otto nods, glancing out a nearby window, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve been ordered to attend to His Grace,” he says gruffly, a wry smile on his lips, nodding in the direction of Aegon’s chambers.

You nod at the mention of your twin, brows pinching together with worry. “Be… patient with him, grandsire, please,” you beseech, chest heaving with a soft sigh, “I spoke with him earlier this morning, he’s… well, he’s not himself.”

“Are any of us anymore, I wonder,” Otto mutters, fixing you with a tight smile before taking his leave, striding quickly down the hallway. Your brows furrow at that, you can’t help but throw Edyth a questioning look before the two of you continue toward your chambers. 

“Seven Hells,” you grumble, quickly bringing a hand to your breast as you climb another, blessedly shorter, set of stairs, “Perhaps check the nursery first, yes? Daena may be stirring still…” You know better, even as the words leave your lips. 

Your daughter has finally begun sleeping soundly through the night recently and while that is cause for celebration, you certainly won’t miss the past eight moons of late night feedings, your poor breasts are paying the price – your body not yet caught up with the lessened need for milk. 

“Yes, Princess,” Edyth replies with a little nod, walking alongside you.

The two of you are almost at your chambers, finally turning onto the hallway where the family apartments are housed, when you hear it – a muffled, barely there cry. The sound makes you pause in your tracks, head swiveling, unsure of exactly where it came from and it’s then you notice that the door to Aemond’s chambers is ajar. 

That in and of itself is strange indeed, your little brother valued privacy above all else, so you stride over only to pause at the entrance, hand poised midair as you reach for the door handle. Your heart clenches when another soft sob pierces the quiet of the hallway – a mournful little noise, one you’d expect more from Aegon. 

Turning back to Edyth, you lead her a few feet from the door, knowing Aemond would hate it if he knew someone, anyone aside from you, had overheard him. “Go to the nursery,” you instruct, making sure to keep your voice low, “Make sure Daena is well, then you’re free for the evening.” 

“But, princess, what about –”

“Nevermind it,” you murmur with a shake of your head, “I’ll send for the maester later myself.”

With a nod, she scampers off further down the hallway, leaving you alone by your brother’s door. Stepping back over toward the threshold, you bite at your bottom lip, wondering if you should go in at all – if it would be more merciful to simply pretend you hadn’t heard anything at all. 

But then it happens again, another pitiful sob sounds from beyond the cracked door and you’re unable to help yourself – Aemond had always come to you with his troubles when he was younger, surely now would be no different. With a little breath, you push the door open just enough to slip through it and thank whichever Gods may be listening when you’re able to press it closed with hardly a sound. 

Peeking around the screen your brother has beside the door, it feels as if your heart shatters in your chest. He looks so… small, so fragile, the complete opposite of the towering, formidable man he’d become in recent years. It’s clear he didn’t hear you come in as he stays seated in a chair near the door, his back to you; his shoulders shake with gentle cries while he hunches over, head cradled in his hands. 

The disarray of his normally spotless chambers startles you once you let your eyes flit over the space – papers are strewn about all across the low table he keeps in the little sitting area, some scattered across the floor, crumpled up, or ripped to pieces. His bedsheets are halfway ripped from the bed and lie in a pool at its foot, along with the remnants of a candle, now merely a translucent puddle on the dark stone floor. 

Taking a step forward, you softly call his name, trying your hardest to keep your voice as low and soft as possible, though you’re hardly able to get the first syllable out before he bolts up from the chair with a strangled gasp and spins toward you. 

“Oh, Aem,” the words fall past your lips in a soft sigh, pulled from you by the startled expression on his face – eyes wide with the fear of being caught so vulnerable. His sapphire eye seems to sparkle with just as much emotion as his pale purple one. 

“Sister, I –” He starts, hastily wiping his hands over his cheeks, chest heaving while he tries to calm his harsh breaths, but you’ll have none of that.

“Shh, whatever excuses you have, I’ll not hear them,” you murmur, quickly walking the few feet over to him and enveloping him in a tight embrace, just as you used to do when he would come crying to you about the tortures Aegon or your nephews put him through in their youth.

Your brother stays stiff in your arms for a moment, tense and wary, though he slowly relaxes as you rub a hand over his back, smoothing out his long hair. You yourself relax once he finally winds his long arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder with a soft sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally releasing. 

“Tell me what distresses you so?”

“I… Jae– the boy,” he stammers, stumbling over his name. You understand, just saying your little nephew’s name seems to somehow make the pain of the loss even worse. Yet, something in your gut tells you there’s something else going on, that Jaehaerys’s death is not the only thing causing your brother such anguish.

“Aemond…” you gently press, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze, “I cannot help if you won’t tell me–”

“Tell you what?” He counters, tone growing too defensive too quickly, “My nephew’s death brings me sorrow, sister. The loss of a young child is a… distressing thing.”

“You know that’s not what I mean!” You counter, trying desperately to keep your voice calm, even when Aemond backs away from you with an exasperated sigh. You’re no stranger to this game – ever since he lost his eye, your brother has guarded his emotions carefully. Getting him to speak honestly about them was about as hard as keeping a bottle of Dornish wine from Aegon’s grasp. 

He gives you a sidelong glance as he paces about the room, lips pressed into a thin line, jaw clenched. Worry only blooms brighter in your chest the longer you watch him; so agitated and so guarded, closed off like an abused animal. 

“It… it’s nothing,” he mumbles finally, voice short and clipped, “Nothing important, sister, I assure you.”

Unconsciously, you wring your hands worriedly, heart clenching; you want nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, yet you know from experience that it was better to let Aemond come to you. 

“Well, surely it cannot be nothing if it has upset you so, sweetling.” 

His nervous pacing comes to a screeching halt at that and he squeezes his eye shut, fists clenched at his side – his whole body tense like he’s trying desperately to keep some invisible dam within himself closed. 

You reach a hand up instinctively when he bites at his bottom lip and turns his head away from you, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “I–,” he croaks, the tightness in his voice makes your breath hitch in your throat; every maternal cell in your body is screaming at you, pleading with you to hold him, “I don’t w-wish to burden you.”

“Baby brother,” you sigh, finally going to him, practically running the few feet over to where he stands. Your arms encircle him instantly, pulling him into a tight embrace – one hand rubs over his back while the other cups the back of his head, holding his face against the crook of your neck, “You could never be a burden to me, never.”

That seems to break him and he gasps, breathing warm against your neck, before he finally lets go and his shoulders heave with sobs while his hands cling to you desperately, fisting into the fabric of your gown like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. A tightness grows at the back of your own throat, not used to seeing him be this raw, this open, in what feels like lifetimes. It breaks your heart to think he’d been holding all of this in, determined to be the strong, silent soldier like everyone expected, while he dealt with such sadness all alone. 

“Shh, shh, Aemond, you’re okay,” you murmur gently, eyes widening when he sags against you, his knees giving way only for a second. “Here, come,” you instruct, taking one of his hands in yours and leading him to the small seating area in his chambers. You urge him to sit on the sofa he has there before joining him yourself, a bit surprised when he all but throws himself against you again – practically laying his head in your lap as he sobs, cheek pressed against your chest in a way that makes you wince from the tenderness still there, not that you’d ever scold him for it. 

“There, that’s much better, hm? Comfortable?” You ask, simply trying to draw him back to the surface. 

He doesn’t reply, something that doesn’t really come as a shock to you given how harsh his cries are, leaving him breathless against you. Deciding to let him get it out, you stay quiet, merely shushing him every so often as you run your fingers through his pearlescent hair.

After a long while, he seems to settle some and tears begin running down his cheeks silently rather than racking his body with savage cries; he lifts his head from your lap and rests it instead against your shoulder, gazing up at you as if you’re an angel sent from the heavens themselves. The intense tenderness with which he looks at you makes you blush, yet your brows furrow slightly at the darkness still there – lingering in the lilac of his eye. 

“I have… I have done something terrible.”

Your brother's murmured confession only serves to confuse you further and you shake your head slightly, heart clenching in your chest as you silently wonder what in all the Seven Kingdoms he could possibly mean by that. 

“Aemond,” you start, knowing not to pry – to let him tell you, “There is nothing you could ever do that would make me think any less of you.”

He stares up at you for a long moment, eye flicking across your face like he’s checking for even the barest hint of deception, yet he finds none – your words are true. 

“You… promise me you will not hate me.”

“I promise, sweet brother,” your brows pinch together at his words, wondering what could possibly be bad enough for all this, yet you can’t stop the corners of your lips from quirking into a sad smile at his request; that uncertain lilt in his voice reminds you so much of when he was younger, “There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you. Nothing.”

“I…” He starts, pulling away from you as he sits up, sparing you one last glance before staring off into the fireplace, “I am the… the reason Jaehaerys is dead.”

“What?” The word is pressed from you, leaving your lips as little more than a breath. You stare at him as if he’d sprouted a second head, utterly perplexed. How in the Seven Hells could he have ever arrived at that conclusion? Taking one of his hands in yours, you lean a little closer, “Sweetling, what in the world do you mean?”

“They were here for me,” Aemond rasps, wincing as if the words themselves are painful, clawing at his throat on their way out, “They were… Gods, they were sent for me and – and when they couldn’t find me, they… H-He died because I was not here, because they could not f-find me…”

“Oh, my love,” you sigh, the backs of your eyes stinging as he presses himself against you again, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, “Aemond, you couldn’t have known, none of us did. You couldn’t have known…” You repeat, like saying the words again and again will make him believe them. 

“I s-should have,” he whimpers, voice breaking over a sob, “I should’ve k-known, I sh–should’ve been here…”

You hold him tightly, practically hauling him onto your lap as his tears leak over your skin, running into the valley of your cleavage like a river, though you pay it no mind. “Shh, sweetling, shh,” you murmur and press a soft kiss to his forehead, “It’s not your fault, dear one, it’s no one’s fault but the vile men who took him and our… our coward of a sister who ordered it done.”

He stays silent for a moment and you can feel the gears in his brain turning, working furiously as he tries to internalize your words, wanting desperately to believe them but unable to let himself. You sigh softly when you feel him shake his head against you, so determined to cling to guilt. 

“If… if I had n-not been at the…” 

“At the where, brother?” You press, clinging to anything you may be able to use to shift the conversation. 

“...The brothel…” he mumbles after a long pause, the words so muffled against the column of your neck that you have to strain to hear them. His words shock you, the complete opposite of anything you’d been expecting. You try your hardest not to let that show, even as a strange sense of jealousy wells up within you – a sense of possessiveness you’ve always felt for your little brother.

“Well, you… you are a man grown, my love,” you heart hammers in your chest, loud enough that you wonder if he can hear it, “If you wish to lay with–”

“I didn’t… I–” He stammers, clinging to you tightly as he shakes his head, an urgency in his voice you can’t quite place, “That’s not what, I… I mean, I–”

“No matter,” you cut him off, aching to see him so distressed, “Whatever you do there, sweet brother, it’s your… right to do it.” You struggle to get the words out, the sense of protectiveness rising viciously in your chest makes your throat feel tight. 

He lifts his head from your shoulder again and eyes you for a long moment – for what, you aren’t sure. It’s almost like he’s surprised not to be meant with disgust or contempt; you wish you knew why.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally mumbles, glancing away from you, ashamed, “I should’ve been home… I should’ve been here to protect my family.”

“Aemond, please,” you sigh and sit up slightly, moving to cup his cheeks in your hands, wiping at his tears with your thumb, “It is not your job to protect us, we have guards for a reason… if anything, this atrocity is their fault but it is not yours, do you understand?” Your eyes bore into his as you speak, desperate to make him understand, to rid him of this misplaced guilt. 

“Do… do you still love me?” He asks after a long moment, voice so timid, so meek like he’s already preparing himself for your rejection, that it makes your heart twist horribly in your chest. 

Still, you cannot help but huff out a little laugh, lips lifting into a sad smile at the utter ridiculousness of the question. “You are my dearest brother,” you murmur, leaning forward to press a kiss against his forehead, letting your lips linger on his skin for a second, “Of course, I still love you, Aemond. I have loved you from the moment you came into this world and I shall never, never stop – the Gods themselves could not make me.”

The two of you are quiet for a moment, save for a small hum from your brother as he nods. His arms encircle you again and selfishly, you enjoy it – being this close to him again, like he was a little boy once more. He’d been all but attached to you at the hip before that dreadful night, following you about the Keep and telling you all sorts of tales about various histories of the Realm in that sweet voice of his. 

All of that had stopped that night and, at first, you had assumed that he merely thought himself a man grown afterwards – a man who had finally claimed a dragon, a man who no longer needed comfort from an older sibling. The sadness in his voice when he speaks again, muffled against your shoulder, tells you otherwise.

“Mother doesn’t love me anymore,” his voice is flat and detached as he breathes out the words, like he’s informing you of some tragic, unavoidable accident. 

“Aem, of course she does. She loves you very–”

“No,” he cuts you off, sitting up once more and shaking his head, “Ever since that business with Luke, I… she can hardly bring herself to look at me. She won’t speak to me outside of Small Council meetings and even then she tries not to, ‘tis plain to see.”

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes, leaving you to swallow around the lump that grows at the back of your throat once again. What are you to say? He’s… Gods, bless him, he’s right, you’ve seen as much to know. 

“You are the only one who has never abandoned me,” he starts, eye sparkling in the candlelight as tears begin welling up within it once more, “Everyone else has left.”

“That’s not…” Your voice fades as you sigh, knowing that arguing with him now will do no good. Instead, you simply hold him tighter and brush a few stray locks of hair from his face. “I can promise that I shall never leave you, sweet brother.”

He grows quiet for a moment, slumping down against you until his head rests in your lap and his body curls up onto the sofa. Silently, you resist the urge to cradle him, to hold him against you as you do Daena when she wakes from a nap with a start, crying out from her cradle. 

He is a grown man, you remind yourself, yet it does nothing to stop the strange ache in your heart. 

“They all used to taunt me, surely you remember, when we were younger,” he mumbles, eye fixated on the fire crackling in the hearth, even as he clings to you, “First for not having a dragon, then for not having an eye.”

You hum in affirmation – you do remember it, sadly. You remember it all very well; he had slept in your chambers for a week after the incident with the pig, not wanting to be left alone at night with the memories of it. You remember having to hold him back at the table when Aegon had poked fun at his eyepatch during supper, about a month after his eye had been gouged out. 

You remember that night too, when he’d come to you with tearful apologies, murmuring sorries again and again for accidentally nicking your hand while trying to brandish a knife against his brother. 

“I have always been an outcast.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips despite the circumstances and you sigh softly, brushing your fingers through his long strands of hair, “I quite like you being different… perhaps if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be as close, hm?”

Aemond goes quiet at that, stills in your lap with a little sigh before simply burrowing against you even more, curling in on himself tighter. 

A soft coo leaves your lips, strands of his long hair passing between your fingers like silk. “What say you stay with me tonight, yes?” You offer, the thought of him in the dark carrying all this alone grief makes you feel ill, “We could even cuddle, if you like? Just as we did when you were younger.”

A short beat of silence later, all you get is a little, “Yes, please,” mumbled against your abdomen. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs later, the two of you finally lying together atop your bed, cuddled closely against one another just as you’d promised. You’d each taken time to get ready for bed and Aemond seems a little better for it, no longer as distressed and teary now that he’s had the time to collect himself. 

Your hand carefully cups the side of his face that isn’t pressed against your pillow, that isn’t buried in the crook of your neck, as an astonished huff of laughter escapes your lips as they curve into a sad smile, your brows furrowed. “Why in the world would you think such things?” Even as the question is whispered into the quiet of your chambers, you know the answer – Aemond has always been this way, always one to reject comfort, even when it is so freely given, even when he himself seeks it out. 

If only he could see himself as you do. 

“I… I have done so many shameful things, sister, I…” His voice breaks when he cuts himself off and you can feel him tense in your hold, “‘Tis the simple truth, I don’t deserve you.”

You hum softly, combing your fingers through his hair while you mull over his words, silently wondering why he has always been like this – why you have always felt so unworthy of softness and kindness and love. 

“Well, it is not my truth,” you murmur after a moment, eyes flicking over the long line of his body, hidden by your silken bedsheets. In the time each of you had taken to ready yourselves for bed, you had changed into a nightgown and he into a simple nightshirt, leaving your bare legs to tangle together, “Would you like to know what I think, my love?”

You feel him inhale against the crook of your neck, sucking in air like he’s steeling himself for disappointment, yet he still lifts his head and peers up at you. His lilac eye searches your face for a long moment, looking for even the smallest indication of displeasure in your features, only to find none. 

Seemingly satisfied with his assessment, assured that surely whatever you were to say would not hurt him too badly, he nods. 

Sitting up just enough to better see his face, you look at him with nothing but adoration as the two of you rest shoulder to shoulder, backs against the headboard. “I believe you deserve every kindness in the world, Aemond. And I believe even that would be too little,” your voice is hardly a whisper when you speak, like this is the deepest of secrets meant only for his ears, “You deserve nothing but happiness, sweet baby brother.”

He stares at you for a long moment, eye wide and glassy while his chest aches as your words seep into him like a soothing balm. You can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows, eye squeezing shut for a moment while he processes your words – so sweet they nearly stung. 

A soft coo bubbles from your lips when you see his chest rise and fall rapidly beneath the linen of his nightshirt, and you lean into him all the more when one of his hands reaches out and grabs one of your own, squeezing it like it’s a lifeline. 

“Shh,” you soothe, giving him a sad smile when his eye finally opens again, gaze immediately finding yours, “Sweet boy.”

He lets out a shuddering breath before looking away from you once again, mind reeling. Not knowing what to do, overcome with so much emotion his heart feels as if it’s adrift at sea, he brings your hand up and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles before holding it to his cheek and sucking in another little breath as his bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t ever leave me,” he whispers finally, voice tight and hoarse. 

Cupping his face, you caress your thumb over the scar beneath his eye softly and lean over just enough to press a soft kiss against his cheek. “I will never leave you, Aemond, I swear it.”

He shudders once more before letting out a shaky breath, eye filled with a wild desperation. Before you can register the movement, his hands are suddenly gripping at your waist and hauling you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his, as he buries his face into the crook of your neck once more, apologies already muffled against your skin. “I-I’m sorry, I – Gwayne will… will hate me but –”

“Shh, sh, sh, sweetling,” you murmur, despite the small, barely audible gasp that leaves you at the sudden movement, so wholly unused to this as half of you tries desperately to comfort you while the other half wonders if you should put a stop to this, “Gwayne knows, my love, he… it’s okay, he knows.”

A sob is wrenched from Aemond’s lips, warm against your neck, but he nods nonetheless, sighing when you begin carding your fingers through his hair once more, smoothing out the long, pale strands. Slowly, he relaxes again, arms wound securely around your waist while his breath evens out. 

You’re about to say something else, though your breath hitches in your throat when he begins peppering your neck with soft, chaste little kisses – feather-light down the column of your neck. He stops after a second, noticing you tense up on his lap, eyes wide as a million thoughts swirl in your mind: Is this okay? Should you stop this? This is your precious baby brother, the one who used to cling to your skirts when he was sad, who used to come to you in the night when he woke from a nightmare… 

He leans forward once more and nips at your earlobe, making your heart stutter in your chest, “Can… can I try something?”

Your head reels at the sudden change in his touches, needier now, though for an entirely different reason, yet still your mind reels – piqued with curiosity. “What is it you wish to try?” You question after a moment, voice scratchy from the sudden dryness at the back of your throat. 

Silently, Aemond relishes this; something about you, you his normally strong and carefree older sister, being this flustered because of him makes his heart flutter in his chest. Dipping his head, he resumes pressing soft kisses against your skin, though they linger now – teeth nipping before he soothes the small bites with a swipe of his tongue, drawing ever closer to the pulse point in your neck that beats so wildly he can feel it beneath your skin. 

“Aemond!” You all but wheeze when he suddenly grabs at your hips, his own firmly bucking up against you. A shock goes down your spine at the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, two thin layers of fabric doing precious little to mask the feel of it. Again, you tense up, practically jumping out of your skin as you pull back just enough to gaze down at him, your eyes wide, blinking rapidly, as they search his. 

This was the last thing you expected tonight, the last thing you’d expect from him at all. “Wha – I…” You stammer, dumbstruck while worry and uncertainty cloud your mind. 

Aemond shushes you now, long fingers squeezing at your bare thighs now that your nightgown has ridden up enough to reveal them. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumbs soothingly against your skin, “Do you trust me…?”

Your throat bobs as you swallow thickly, heart hammering in your chest. You should be the one comforting him… what in the Seven Hells has happened? Is… is this the comfort he needs now?

Even still, you nod your head at his question; of course you trust him, you’d trust him with anything… even this. 

A smile grows on his lips when you acquiesce, a pleased glimmer in his eye when he lifts his hands to your hips again, his grip firmer this time. “Good… good, sweet sister,” he hums lowly, rutting his hips up against you once more, lilac eye watching you with keen interest. 

“A-Aem…” You gasp once more, the feel of him against you so intense it sends a shiver down your spine, even when your brows furrow as your eyes flutter, threatening to slip shut. His movements press a small whimper from your lips and you can feel the sting in your cheeks as they flush, chest heaving while your hands grab tightly at his shoulders. 

The smug look on his face slowly morphs into one of wonder and his eye flits over your face greedily, like he doesn’t want to miss a single second of seeing you like this – already so strung out over him. 

He moves again, the feeling of your soft core pressing against his growing length through the thin linen only serving to drive his urges further. “Gods, you look so beautiful like this…” He murmurs, in awe at having you like this, and all to himself. Unable to help himself, he leans forward yet again and pulls you closer as his lips settle once more against your neck. 

Instinctually, your head tilts to the side, giving him room to kiss over your skin. His movements against you cause you to shiver in his grasp, even if a small part of you was still uncertain, hoping this wouldn’t change your relationship with him for the worse. 

The slow grind of his hips causes his nightshirt to eventually ride up his legs as well, and you gasp anew, jumping once more when his length suddenly presses against your center, unhindered by fabric. 

“Feel what you do to me?” He purrs, letting out a low groan of his own. 

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, lips parted ever so slightly while your chest heaves, silently wondering if this is truly happening. Almost imperceptibly, you nod your head, shuddering at the feeling of his cock pressed against you, already twitching. 

“L-Little brother,” you gasp, breathless already.

Aemond smirks at your response, your whimpers and soft gasps going right to his head. He grabs at your waist still, bucking against you in slow, almost teasing movements. A low, pleased hum vibrates him in his chest when he feels how wet you are against him – the heat radiating from your center nearly stifling. 

The longer this goes on, the more you can feel your resolve crumbling, any small bits left of you that wanted to put a stop to this slowly fading away. Distantly, you can’t help wondering if this is how it’s always been meant to be, if this was the only logical conclusion your paths could reach, the outcome of such a close bond. Perhaps, you have always been made for this. 

“Aemond,” his name falls from your lips in a soft sigh and you finally lean against him heavily, pressing your chest against his unthinkingly. “Shit!” You gasp only a second later, jolting as if stung by a bee, brought back to reality by the ache in your breasts. 

“Sister?” Aemond questions, freezing beneath you while he looks over your face, his hands rising to cup your cheeks protectively. 

You start to answer, to explain, when you feel a sudden tingling sensation at your chest and, judging from the look on your brother’s face, an explanation would be a moot point by now anyway.

“Gods grant me mercy,” he sighs, eye wider than you’ve ever seen it as he stares, near open-mouthed, at your chest. Glancing down, your cheeks flush at the sight of milk dampening the linen at your breasts, leaving it all but translucent. 

Again, you go to explain, only to stop yourself in your tracks when his tongue darts out, licking over his bottom lip. Your head spins when you notice his chest heaving as he stares at you with a nearly savage hunger, eyes fixed on your breasts like his universe has been narrowed down to a pinpoint. 

“Aemond?”

“Please,” he groans, swallowing thickly and licking over his lips once more, practically salivating. His eye flicks up to yours for only the briefest of seconds before zeroing in on your chest once more, “Sweet… sweet sister, please.”

Again, the energy in the room seems to shift, Aemond once again begging you for comfort, bowing to your whims. Quickly, you shush him while one hand threads into his hair once more as you bring his head back against the crook of your neck, settling him there while he groans against your skin, rough hands slowly trailing up your waist before halting at your ribs. 

Your other hand busies itself with snaking between the two of you and impatiently batting your clothes away before your fingers finally curl around his length, causing the both of you to let out soft cries. 

“Shh, sweetling,” you coo, chest heaving while you position him at your entrance, sighing as he desperately mouths at your neck, “I know what you need, I’ve got you.”

Again, twin moans fill your dimly lit chambers when you slowly sink down on him. Whimpers are punched from your lungs at the feel of him steadily filling you, his chest rumbling against yours as he groans deeply, hips jolting beneath you. 

“Gods,” you sigh when your hips are finally pressed tightly against his once more, panting and letting your eyes fall shut while you give yourself a moment to adjust. 

The feel of him borders on overwhelming – pressed so tightly inside of you, around you, the very air in your room filled with the heady, herbaceous scent of the bath oils you know he favors. You imagine he must feel the same as he trembles beneath you, fingers and hips twitching with barely contained desire. 

Finally, your need to comfort him, to protect him even from himself, rears its head again and you relish the breathy sigh that leaves him as you begin to move your hips. It’s a grinding motion, soft and gentle – what he needs now, to be treated with care. Still, the movements send shockwaves up your spine as the pale hairs at the base of his cock rub perfectly against your pearl, creating a delicious friction to spur you on. 

“So good,” he breathes, warm against your shoulder as he leans forward, kissing at your neck, “You feel so good, sister, you… you are s-so good to me…”

“Just as you deserve,” you murmur, combing your fingers through his long hair once more before your hands travel down to the hem of his nightshirt and you begin impatiently tugging at it, pulling it over his head and grinning at the soft, nearly petulant, whine he gives at having to separate from you even for a second. 

Still, some instinctual force seems to drive you, a need to feel his skin against your own, and you waste no time before pulling your own nightgown up and over your head as well, leaving nothing to separate the two of you. 

The groan that leaves him when your chest presses back against his own once more is like nothing you’ve heard before – a sound of the purest relief, like he’s found some oasis in the desert. His eye opens again and the rhythm of your hips stutters only for a second once it finds yours. The lilac is almost completely overtaken by black and yet, he still regards you as if you are an angel sent from the heavens themselves, stares at you with such reverence that your heart flutters in your chest. 

Something clicks for you then as he whimpers beneath you, his own hips beginning to buck up against your own as the lazy tempo you’ve settled into slowly starts to pick up. You understand, now, that this is merely another step, an added turn, in the so carefully balanced dance the two of you have constructed.

And if this is what he needs to be comforted, then you’re more than happy to give it. 

“My good boy,” sigh, moving against him with renewed vigor, grinning when he lets out a hitched moan, “Is this what you needed?”

“Yes, y-yes,” he nods, his eye never leaving your own as he ruts beneath you, the choppy movements only adding to the fire slowly building within your veins, “Please, sweet sister, please…”

You don’t need to ask to know what it is he means, nodding before he has time to stutter out another word, “Take what you need, my love.”

Another breathy groan sounds from him as he quickly descends onto your chest, tilting his head down and immediately capturing your sensitive nipple between his lips, one hand coming up to gently cup your breast, holding it steady. The feeling of relief that flows through you when he starts suckling is nearly disorienting, the dull ache in your breast slowly fading away with each mouthful of milk he pulls from you, greedily taking a few mouthfuls from one breast before switching to the other.

Your fingers stay anchored in his hair while your hips work against him, your high building more steadily within you now that your breasts no longer feel ready to burst. You pant as you gaze down at him, eyes half-lidded while you watch his lips move against you, lilac eye still fixated on you. 

Below you, Aemond is halfway convinced he’s died and somehow the Gods have seen fit to spare him the Seven Hells. His head spins as he drinks from you, the taste of you by far the sweetest, most decadent thing he could fathom. As the knot in his belly grows ever-tighter, his suckles become more greedy, frantic, not knowing whether you’ll allow him this pleasure ever again. 

“Please, f-fuck,” he sighs, the words punched from his lips as he pulls away from you just enough to speak, uncaring as dribbles of milk leak from the corners of his lips, staining your skin. His hips practically move on their own accord as he mindlessly grinds up into you, seeking out the warmth and safety he knows he shall only ever feel within you. 

Above him, you nod, swallowing thickly against the dryness at the back of your throat, cheeks flushed while you watch him unravel. Snaking a hand between your bodies once more, your fingers quickly find your sensitive, aching bud and rubbing at it with a practiced precision. 

“Gods, sweet little brother,” you breathe out, pleasure zapping down your spine. You frantically nod again, frantic this time, just as your high washes over you, “Come, Aemond… Gods, let go, little one.”

His suckles turn more into little biting nips while he gasps against you, trembling beneath you when he finally lets pleasure overtake him – eye squeezing shut at the feel of your walls clenching tightly around his cock. 

The warmth of him filling you only spurs you on more, your breaths ragged against his forehead while you feel yourself tense and relax again and again, grabbing at whatever parts of him you can reach. 

You each go still after a few moments, panting against each other. Aemond is practically limp beneath you, lazily nuzzling his face against your chest, satiated smile just barely tugging at the corners of his lips. Chuckling softly, you pepper his forehead in sweet kisses, relishing the contented hum he gives in return. 

When you go to get up however, intent on fetching a cloth to clean you both up with, he reaches for you with a small whine as he grabs at your thighs.

“Don’t, please,” he murmurs, brows furrowed when your eyes meet, “Stay…”

“You… you want to stay like this?” You question, your heartbeat quickening as he quickly nods, “You wish to stay –”

“Inside,” he finishes quickly, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows bashfully, cheeks flushed, “I… I feel safe like… like this.”

“Then you can stay, silly boy,” you answer with a grin, kissing at his forehead once more, “Here, let’s just…” You murmur, tilting your hips to the side ever so slightly, attempting to pull him with you.

Blessedly, he seems to understand and follows you willingly, allowing you to maneuver the two of you onto your sides. After a moment, you’re comfortable once more, each of you lying on your side and facing the other, one of your legs slung over his narrow hips to keep him pressed tightly within you. 

“Good boy,” you sigh softly, smiling when he shivers against you. 

The two of you stay like that for a while, your hands gently caressing his soft skin or running through his hair while you hold him against you. After a while, his lilac eye finally flutters closed and you can’t help but marvel at how much younger he looks like this – relaxed and spent while he lies against you, like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. 

After a while, he seems to grow restless again, nosing at your chest until he finds what he desires. You sigh softly as he pulls a nipple into his mouth once more, suckling at it contentedly while he peers up at you sleepily. 

“There you go,” you murmur soothingly, coaxing him to lift his head just enough for you to lay an arm beneath it, allowing you to caress his shoulders while your other hand cups gently at the side of his face, thumb sweeping over his soft skin. “Take what you need, sweet one,” you coo, smiling as he quickly returns his lips to your breast, “You’re safe, I’ve got you…”

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

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[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[hwallazia]

WARDROBE MALFUNCTIONS – 최산

⋆ synopsis. you help san in a very special way with his outfit before he gets on stage.

pairing. idol bf! san & hairstylist fem! reader.

wc. 3,1k

warnings. soft dom! san & sub! reader, cussing, semi-public sex (they fuck in a men’s restroom tehee), unprotected sex (boo 👎), creampie, cowgirl position, implied handjob & blowjob (didn’t write that part explicitly), quickie?, begging, male masturbation, accidental erection, sannie is unable to cum with just his fist so he asks reader for help <3, dirty talk, praise, pet names (sannie, princess, jagi & more), in conclusion they’re DESPERATE.

nic’s notes ⋆ the wip has been posted 🙇‍♀️ four san fics in a row tho... YES SIR !! 🗣️ dw i’ll post a hongjoong one shot soon <3

the ambience was calm, the ac provided the room with cool air, the murmurs were a bit lower than usual so it was at the ideal volume and the members were naturally getting ready to go on stage, the screams of the excited and frenetic fans that non patiently waited in the stadium bleachers belied the calm atmosphere in the room.

as you were taking care of mingi’s hair and making it your job to make it look spectacular, you saw your boyfriend’s figure on the mirror. his reflection showed a bothered san, struggling with the zip of his shiny white pants. you redirected your eyes to mingi’s scalp, spraying small bits of glitter onto it.

“all done, princess” you chanted, meeting the man’s satisfied grin in the mirror; a smile unconsciously taking place on your face.

“it’s princess indeed.” he double checked his just-styled hair before rising from the chair, rotating his body towards you; back facing the mirror. “you seriously are an artist”

“wouldn’t be working in here if i didn’t have that title” you teased a little bit, stealing a charming laugh. you continued chatting with him for a couple more minutes, looking over his shoulder from time to time to see the cute pout formed on san’s pink lips. he let out a soft huff and made his way out of the room, your iris following his every movement.

“excuse me, mingi-ah. gotta finish up the work.” you explained before hearing an overshadowed humming of their song called “work”. chuckling, you tracked your boyfriend’s course.

you walked past a closed door, but you stepped backward when you noticed its threshold beaming a clear light. you hit your knuckles against the wooden door in a funny musical rhythm before hearing and seeing the handle of it twist open, revealing san’s figure; his makeup half messed up.

his annoyed features beamed up when he saw you, a hint of relief in his orbs. ”baby! so glad you’re here. come on.” he grabbed your hand not too gently but still without hurting you and pulled you to him, closing the door behind you quickly without giving it much of a thought that you were a woman inside a men’s restroom.

“s-sannie! what happened?” you analyzed his face for a moment, noticing smuddered powder of eyeshadow along the sides of his eyelids and his foundation slightly botched.

“uhm. kinda feels like this outfit doesn’t fit in the right places, if you know what i mean.” he spoke sheepishly, his muscly thighs uncomfortably restrained against the tight fabric of the pearly white pants.

your hands reached the sides of his pants. you tugged the piece of clothing twice with enough force to feel how snug it was.

you gasped lowly. “how did this happen?”

he sighed, rising and lowering his shoulders in surrender. “i don’t know how they keep messing up my measurements.”

you couldn’t help but ask the stupid question that had struck your thoughts the moment you saw him. “how did you even manage to get yourself inside those pants?”

he whined, sulking. “i don’t knowww, just get these off me.”

a soft blush heated your cheeks. “love, you gotta be on stage in less than thirty minutes, we can’t do—”

“not what i meant, filthy girl.” he deadpanned, the red on your face deepening. “not a bad idea though.”

a rush of embarrassment made your skin hot. you landed a sharp, yet light smack on the side of his shoulders. the emitted sound exaggerated how harshly you had hit him. “choi san! focus!”

“you’re the one who gave the idea!” he defended himself, arms closing around his chest.

you sighed before humming lowly, submerged in thought, your brain already trying to scheme a solution as san dedicated himself to pout cutely, huffing softly, clearly annoyed at the uncomfortable, leg-numbing fabric.

a click sounded inside your head. “i’ll go find and see if there’s another pair of those. if not, then i’ll get you something similar. just wait here.” you uttered as you stretched your opened palm in front of you.

he nodded. “okay, go,”

you gave him a little smile before vanishing from the tiny restroom. after hearing the door clicking shut, you sprung towards the dressing room, where wooyoung and seonghwa were conversing trivialities. yunho noticed you and your fast heartbeat the moment you spawned at the door.

his eyebrow quirked up for a bit. “what’s up? why were you running just now?”

you exhaled in an exasperated sigh. “i need to find inseol”

inseol was your friend and also the head of the dressing department, she designed and planned every single one of ateez’s stunning and mind-blowing outfits. “haven’t seen her.” yunho simply responded.

“me neither.” the two other men replied in unison, the low curse you huffed going unheard by them.

“why though? we’re all dressed up already.” wooyoung questioned.

“sannie’s having a problem with his pants. they’re way too tiny and therefore, tight.”

the thought alone of san dancing his soul out on that stage with senseless, numb feet makes your head spin in the worst way. you had to help your boyfriend somehow, and inseol not being in sight was complicating things.

“are you serious?” hongjoong stepped into the room, and you felt your blood run cold.

if there was something kim hongjoong hated, it was unforeseen events.

you managed to compose yourself the best you could. “yes but i’m already taking care of it!”

your words did almost nothing to calm hongjoong’s growing boiling stress. you closed your eyes for a tiny second, already accepting your fate and mentally preparing for hongjoong’s temper tantrum, but seonghwa’s wise and soothing voice intervened. “hongjoong, she said she’s already taking care of it. so let her do what she gotta do, we’re all under the same circumstances and pressure.”

hongjoong heaved a sharp sigh, frown relaxing, limbs letting go of the way-too-quickly accumulated tension. “you’re right. sorry, go ahead.”

you smiled sweetly in an attempt to reassure hongjoong. “it’s okay. i’ll figure this out — no need to worry.” you said as you eased your way out the door, but not before mouthing a genuine ‘thank you’ to seonghwa, who only nodded politely as he gave you a tiny grin.

as you walked towards the room where your sannie was, your mind anxiously scrambled for a quick solution, but with so many limited options, your stress only grew bigger. you mumbled under your breath some possible resolutions, yet nothing ingenious came to mind.

it wasn’t until you passed by this chair, overloaded with a black and seemingly heavy and full backpack with pieces of clothing on top. your eyes flickered toward the overused chair and you instantly started roaming through the mountain of fabric, wishing for a similar pair of white pants to come into sight.

in the distance, you could hear the voices of your coworkers murmuring about how much time was left until the concert started. 20 minutes was all you had.

then, a miracle happened. the low percentage of chances of you finding the exact cloth you needed elevated drastically to one hundred the moment the almost identical pearly white pants covered your opened palm.

you almost squealed when you found it, but you had to remain collected and professional. instead, you cleared your throat and headed towards the men’s restroom with hurried steps, where your poor sannie awaited for your savior-like presence.

you twisted the door handle once you were face to face with the men’s restroom symbol, opening and closing the door behind you quickly.

you expected him to be fighting against the tightness of his pants, huffing and groaning, full of stress.

“jagi,”

you definitely weren’t expecting him to be half naked on the floor, with a throbbing cock in hand as he panted breathlessly, the snug fabric of the pants still rubbing against his covered balls. his makeup was already fucked up because of the blanket of glistening sweat his face was covered in. his half-lidded eyes and shiny lips only invited you to sink into sin with him.

but you couldn’t. not when he had a stage to be on, a performance to give.

your eyes stayed widely open like plates as you blurted out. “sannie, what are you—”

“i tried getting out of these but it just kept rubbing against my dick every time i tried to move.” he blabbered, soft sobs hitching his breath. “i really didn’t mean it but ‘m so hard, jagi. i don’t know what to do and it just doesn’t go down.”

your mouth dried as you intently stared at his velvety tip, enveloped with his big hand, fully covered in precum, pulsating and aching under his fingers.

oh, your poor sannie.

so endlessly helpless and sensitive.

“help me, please.” he begged, his voice cracking, yet so fucking cute.

and of course you’d lend him a helping hand.

you cooed at him as you approached him, the slow steps of your low heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“oh, baby. so sensitive as always,” you caressed the side of his messed-up hair. you internally sighed since you had to redo your hard work.

but that thought faded in a blur, ’cause now you had more important things to do.

and that thing was sat obediently in front of you, waiting for your magical touch to send him into another dimension in less than ten minutes.

’cause that was all you had to get the deed done.

“‘m sorry, love, but—” he gulped before pleading. “can you suck it? please.”

naturally, your sweetheart of a boyfriend hardly ever lets you suck his cock, since he prefers pleasing you first, prioritizing your release before his.

desperate times call for desperate measures, though. so of course you knew he wouldn’t be asking you this if he had another alternative, another solution that didn’t mean resorting to such a filthy act, in such a short time, and in such a place.

“of course baby.”

five minutes.

only five minutes had passed until he was practically begging you to let him fuck you.

”please, jagi, it’s the only way it comes down” he used as an excuse. it was valid, though, the clenching walls of your pussy were the ultimate method to soften up san’s girthy length.

after a brief moment of considering it, your hand movement came to a stop, his reddened cockhead slapping against his uncovered abs, a sticky line of pre-cum dirtying his happy trail.

“we’re going that far, huh?” you teased, kissing his jaw as you positioned yourself on top of him. he tried to whine out an excuse, a reason why he wanted to fuck you with only a few minutes before his show, but you shushed him quickly, grabbing his girth by the base and aligning it towards your welcoming entrance. “we gotta be quick, though.”

he exhaled, taking in the view that unraveled in front of him. “i know.”

after giving him a warm smile, you sank down slowly, your body instinctively leaning slightly forward, your palms laying flat on his firm chest, using as the perfect support. you took him inch by inch, until your pussy lips grazed his balls. a satisfied sigh left your mouth, san’s head immediately rocking back as he grunted deeply, your warming insides always felt so heavenly divine.

the way you clamped down him forced him to lock gazes with you again, his low hiss cutting through the air. then, he realized that you weren’t actually moving, so he breathed in to ask, but you were faster, replying to his untold question. “fuck me, then.” you leaned closer, your faces just a few inches apart. “take what you need, sannie.”

san stared up at you with an intoxicated, loving gaze, a silent “thank you” dripping from his sparkling eyes. his hands landed on your hips, holding you steady before lifting them up, a few inches of him withdrawing from the cozy embrace of your cunt. whilst he held your body up, you purposely squeezed his cocktip and san cursed under his breath. he started with a slow pace, driving his hardness up against your pussy, filling you all the way up.

you arched your back when his tip stroked that divine spot in you, eyes almost rolling back to your skull. “s—sannie, oh my fuck!” you kept moaning and panting breathlessly on top of him, completely powerless.

he dove his head into your breasts, nuzzling his mouth in the middle of them. your bouncing tits rubbed against his cheeks with every jump, san’s blood rushing towards his face. his half-lidded eyes and curled-up feet were the only evidence needed to prove that he was actually enjoying this.

“oh princess.” he exhaled endearingly, utterly in love with your bouncing figure. “i love how you feel.” he uttered as he massaged your sides, ramming his cock to your convulsing pussy, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. “that’s the spot, isn’t it?”

his voice penetrated deeply inside your eardrums, your trembling core almost failing to keep its balance as you came closer and closer to the edge. “y-yeah, ‘m so close, so fucking close—ugh!”

your moans grew louder with each thrust, your hands holding onto his arms as they squeezed the heart muscle of his biceps. saying that you were a mess was an understatement, your white shirt had been discarded a while ago, a trail of sweat falling in between your breasts like rain; skirt hiked up to your marked hips. your mouth hung open in satisfaction, the sensation of being filled to the brim tipped you a bit.

“fuck— how much have we got left?” san groaned, hissing breathlessly.

“i—“ you stuttered as you raised your wrist up, staring at the clock that decorated it so elegantly.

5 minutes.

“we got five minutes, san. you gotta hurry.” you exhaled, looking desperate for your boyfriend’s release. he was the one who needed to be on that stage in less than ten minutes, after all. so you prioritized him thoughtfully.

”fuck, princess — you have to come.” his fingers reached down your sensitive clit and started rubbing circles on it. you squirmed on top of him as he kept thrusting his cock up your velvety walls.

you would’ve protested, claiming that it was actually him who had to come, if he hadn’t stimulated your bundle of nerves. your core twitched nonstop as your back arched beautifully. a string of incoherent pleas and san’s name spurted out of your mouth thoughtlessly.

in a warning manner, you clenched around him once or twice before coming undone all over his hardened dick, your body surrendered and crumbled down, your cheek colliding with his shoulder as you panted nonsense.

“that’s it, just like that, princess. you did so good.” he praised before grunting lowly. “so fucking good f’me.” he hammered your hips down his pelvic bone as he kept pistoning his hardness against your overstimulated, convulsing pussy. “gonna come inside you, fill you up reaaal good—yeah, y’ want it?” he growled, grasping your ass cheeks, definitely leaving his signature mark.

you blabbered a weak “yes”, too blissed out to even formulate coherent sentences. “‘course you want it, my dirty little princess.” san squeezed his eyes shut and moaned when he felt your walls clamp down on him for the nth time, this time bringing him closer to the abyss of pleasure though. “ugh— ‘m coming, ‘m coming, baby—“ he announced in a low, gravelly groan as he emptied his heavy load deep inside, filling you with his cum to the bone; eyes dilated.

he slowed his pace down before sitting completely still, your cunt still welcoming the white shoots of cum that his cock spurted out helplessly. you encircled his neck with your weakened arms for a moment, almost forgetting about the fact that your boyfriend had a concert to give. your body jolted as the reminder hit your head. “fuck, baby — you need to go now.”

and seemed like your boyfriend had forgotten about that little detail as well. “shit, you’re right.” he uttered before sliding his arms under your thighs and back, lifting you off him and placing you on the floor again as he rose up.

his head shook incessantly, searching for the whole reason why you were there. the word “pants” left his lips quietly, like a mantra. you stared up at him and helped him, pointing where the pair of pants was at. “behind that chair, sannie.”

he turned his head abruptly to where you had pointed at, the problematic pair of white pants coming in sight. he sighed before grabbing them and putting them on at the speed of light. you got up weakly and walked your way towards him.

san looked at you and immediately rushed to help you. “baby, stay still, you can barely walk.”

you locked gazes and you replied. “and just sit down on the floor of the men’s restroom?”

you quirked your eyebrow up and san shrugged a bit. “‘m just trying to help.” he sulked cutely and it made your heart swell with love.

you giggled as your fingers reached up to his messy hair. “i know you are, sannie, ‘m just kidding.” your fingers coiled around a lock of hair, curling it up. “now let me help you.” you repeated the action with the rest, finally perfecting his hairstyle with nothing more than your skillful fingers. meanwhile, san adjusted his pants and moved his legs around, doing silly movements to test the elasticity of the fabric, humming in approval when he felt nothing but comfortable.

you stepped back, taking in your work of art, nodding and sighing proudly. “perfect” you uttered.

”thank you, princess.” he leaned closer to peck your lips before his fingers brushed the door handle. “i’ll get going.”

”go kill that stage, pretty boy.” you encouraged, pride dripping off your tone.

san puffed his cheeks cutely, his eyes turning into pretty crescent moons. “yes, ma’am.”

and with that, he disappeared through the door, carefully clicking it shut. when the door closed, you crumbled down, shaky knees keeping your core shuddering. you stared down at your dripping pussy, gushing and coating the floor with san’s heavy cum. a strong blush heated your cheeks as you took in the view.

after a few minutes, the shakiness ceased and you were able to get up and clean the mess you and san had left on the tiles of the black marble floor. in the background, you could hear the sudden shouting of thousands of atinys combined with the faint sound of their song “halazia” reverberating throughout the whole arena, a sweet smile forming on your lips.

you remembered hongjoong’s angry demeanor when he overheard that san was having a problem with his outfit. so, you muttered under your breath, imaginatively responding to him. “told ya i’d take care of it.”

| masterlist

[rookiesbookies]

The boys catch their ladies reading smut, originally this had the books I was basing this on in them but I hadn't got the time to read the books so I remove the book titles and authors. I hope you enjoy <3

Price: Yeah, she’s younger than him. This book is like 100% just breeding kinks. So she was reading this book about a man breeding his young woman and being super obsessive and clinging… while sitting in their living room… with her fuzzy, super obsessive, newlywed husband. “What are ya readin love?” He said, swiftly snatching the book from her grasp as he sat down on the couch next to her. He kicked his feet up on the couch and laid so his back was against her shins under the blanket she was bundled in. “Nothing important! But you really should give it back!” She panicked, reaching for it. “Holy bloody Jesus, love. This is a casual read for you?” “... yeah.” He wiggled his eyebrows while looking up to see her. She put a hand in his face and took her book back. “You almost made me lose my page.”

Soap: Being bent over and defiled by a hot Scotsman in a kilt? Oh hell yeah. How could you refuse?

“Jesus, Bonnie, why are ye readin about this shit when ya could get the real thing with me?” He chuckled, flipping through the book she had poorly hidden in her nightstand. “My kilt is in the closet, give me less than 10 minutes to get me socks and straps on and I’ll rock yer world harder than some words on a page ever could. You’ll see, donnae worry.”

He did indeed rock your world harder than pages ever good.

You claim and cry that you want to finish it for the plot, he says you can only read “that filth” when he’s away on deployment.

Says its a waste if you have a real heavy, hairy, and thick Scotsman at your disposal on the daily.

Ghost: Reading a story about a man whose face was painted like death and has charm that causes hormonal riots? Sounds exactly like her Simon. She lay on their shared bed as he packed up for their walk to the park. Her legs kicked up in the air as she read. 

He raised an eyebrow at what could have her so giddy so he effortlessly snatched the book and was met with a nasty surprise when he looked over the words. “Take it you’d rather stay home than go to the park,” he mumbled with a smirk before bending down to kneel in front of her now with a red face. 

“No- no I think a walk in the park will be fine.” She nervously chuckled.

Konig: Hot giant caveman dragging a woman away to have his way with her? Basic Konig when he comes back from missions.

Grabbing his sweet girl and pulling her into the dark cave that is their bedroom, only letting either out once he’s had his way with her and showing her just how much he’s missed her.

His face was red flushed as he read over her shoulder though.

“Oh meine gut, Schatz."

The scream she let out even made him fall back.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

He pressed a kiss to her temple in apology. 

“This book made me horny, can we fuck?” She asked straight up, knowing Konig preferred her blunt. She didn’t need to ask him twice.

Gaz Hot british guy? Her standards were so low for her choices in literature as long as it was someone she could imagine her Kyle as. Hmmm easy.

So when she was leading her walk with her audio book in her headphones she was more than busy. When he got a hold of one of her airpods while at the gym and she forgot he had the other one, he looked over at her with wide eyes. He texted her, “I didn’t realize you were interested in being folded like that.”

[entitled-fangirl]

Lady Hightower.

Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader

Summary: the reader is approached by Criston Cole. Gwayne doesn't like the look in Cole's eyes.

A/n: this is a drabble to keep the writer's block away 😅 I'm still sick, but it's getting better slowly

Masterlist

.............................................

"Lady Hightower," Criston Cole approached the woman.

Y/n turned, her 6 month son in her arms. Her brows furrowed, "Yes?"

He stepped to her, and only then did he realize he wasn't sure why he did it. 

She noted his hesitance and a worried expression came over her face, "Is my husband alright?"

"Yes," he quickly reassured. "He is fine. Just fine."

She nodded and let out a relieved sigh, "That's wonderful. Thank you."

He nodded too, an awkward silence overtaking them. 

She shifted the baby in her arms. "I thank you," she finally said, "For your service to the crown."

Criston moved a step closer to her, "It is worth fighting for."

Her brows furrowed as she noticed his movements. "You've recently been promoted to the Hand of the King, I've overheard."

A smile came across his face, "Indeed. His grace truly blesses me."

Her patience began to turn to annoyance. "My father-by-law should be in Old Town by now. Hopefully with Daeron."

"Lord Hightower is a wise man. The crown shall miss his guidance."

Her head tilted as she studied him, "Indeed, it will." She forced herself to calm down, adjusting the baby against her shoulder once again.

As she did so, Criston took a breath, beginning to enter close proximity to her.

She looked up, his face closer to Criston's than she would've liked. "Ser Criston?"

"My lady."

"You're a loyal man, aren't you, Lord Hand?"

His eyes flickered over her face, "Yes."

She took a large step back and let out an annoyed sigh, "Quite loyal indeed." She looked around, "Where is my husband?"

Criston released a sigh of his own at his failure, "He should be coming back from the stables."

Gwayne did indeed step into the courtyard, a curious look coming to his eyes at the sight of his wife with the knight. The curiosity turned to worry when his wife immediately approached him when he came into her line of sight. 

"Dear husband!"

He reached out and took his son from her arms, wrapping an arm around her waist. He leaned down to her ear, "What did he say to you?"

"I'm glad to see you is all."

He looked past his wife to glare at Cole. "You're sure?"

She reached up and caressed his face, pushing his messy red hair from his forehead and speaking with a soft voice, "Gwayne."

He forced himself to take a breath and calm himself. The baby in his arms let out a soft whine. He looked down at his son, gently rocking him back and forth. "Did you scare the bad man away, my son?"

Y/n smiled, "Well, having him surely helps."

"Not enough," Gwayne smiles. He leans down and kisses her cheek. "Perhaps I need to give you another."

Her cheeks flushed. "Gwayne," she scolded.

A bright smile came over his face. He continued his teasing behavior, "Shall I?"

"This is improper to discuss here."

"I am not offended," he said with his infamous smirk.

She feigned offense, "Give me my son."

She reached out to take him, but Gwayne turned away from her, keeping the baby close. 

His wife giggled lightly, reaching out further, "Gwayne, give me my son."

"He is my son as well."

She playfully huffed. "Then we shall both pray to the Seven that he does not become as teasing as his father."

"Keeping a son from his mother, Lord Hightower?" 

Gwayne lifted his head up, seeing Criston Cole walking to them. He cursed under his breath, "Lord Hand."

"You didn't answer my question."

Y/n sighed, stepping next to her husband and resting a hand on the baby in his arms.

Gwayne shook his head with a clenched jaw, "I wouldn't dare, Lord Hand." A satisfied smirk came over his face, "She knows I would never break apart a family."

Criston smiled in slight offense as he tried to laugh off the man's digs. "Yes, you're a perfect man. Aren't you, Lord Hightower?"

The two stared at one another for a while as the tension grew.

"Excuse us, Lord Hand," Y/n finally interrupted, "But I'd like to welcome my husband back properly."

Criston forced a fake smile to his face, "Of course, my lady. How rude of me." He looked at the two, then the babe, his eyes studying the child longingly. He let his smile drop as he began to step away.

They watched him leave, a bold smile coming across Gwayne's face at his wive's boldness. He leans down again, "Welcome me properly?"

She grins, "Perhaps after the sun sets."

A shiver of lust ran down his spine, "Why only then?"

"We must wait until our son sleeps, Gwayne."

He wraps his free arm around her waist, placing a soft kiss on her lips, "Perhaps he can find sleep before the sun does."

She giggled lightly, "How so?"

"In the arms of his father," he stated as if obvious, "How else?"

She shook her head, "He wouldn't possibly-"

She froze, seeing that the baby in her husband's arm was already asleep, slumbering peacefully.

He looked up at her with a smirk. "Let us lay him down. I have a reunion to enjoy."

His wife grinned, dragging the man indoors.

......................................

[smutoperator]

A Night to Remember

Shin Yuna x Male Reader (+5 more guys)

Tags: anal, backseat foreplay, blowbang, bush, couch sex, double penetration, facefucking, filling every hole, free use, fuckdoll, gangbang, golden shower, queefing

Word count: 5109

Yuna was getting herself ready for a special night. After taking a shower, she put on lipstick, combed her hair, and looked at her beautiful self in the mirror until she received a text message.

"Are you still going out tonight?" you sent a message to Yuna, who stopped to read it and reply. "I'm getting ready now, hope you bring the whole team, I want to fuck them all" Yuna replied, already showing her naughty intentions.

Yuna finished dressing herself up, putting on a beautiful dress that barely covered her ass, and went outside, where a huge car with your crew of friends inside was already parked waiting for her. "Good night," you greeted Yuna in the driver's seat as she fit her tall, slim body inside a packed car with 6 guys inside.

"So, where are we going tonight?" Yuna asked. "A very nice spot, but we have to keep it a secret," the guy in the front passenger's seat answered her. You kept trying not to distract yourself as you drove the crew to the destination, but Yuna was right in your mirror's sight in the backseat of the car, making it very difficult for you to concentrate.

Yuna smiled as the guy looked at her. "Ohhhh a secret, I'm ready for you guys to give me a great surprise," she said. "You can count on it," you told her as the two dudes on the backseat alongside Yuna started sharing kisses with her, you reaching her hands on her legs while they touched her dress close to her tits.

The touching got more and more intense. "Looks like I'm getting in some trouble tonight," Yuna said as the guys' wandering hands kept touching her hot body in every spot.

Yuna opened her legs in the backseat of the car, unveiling her white panties under her dress. As soon as she did, the guy in the front passenger's seat pulled them to the side, only to be surprised by the massive bush she spotted in her pubic area.

"Damn, that's quite a big bush," you said as you looked in the mirror. "Well, I usually keep it fully shaved down there but for tonight I wanted to be a little wider and keep it untouched," Yuna said. It was the first time you had seen her with a bushy vagina but you enjoyed seeing it, indeed, it felt very different and gave her a more mature aura.

You guys hadn't even arrived at your destination, but Yuna was so tempting you were already running your hands all over her pussy. In the middle of her sexy bush, her throbbing red lips appeared, her rubbing her clit and teasing the crew while you filmed them. Soon, the guys were digging their hands deep inside her cunt, leading her to smile brightly.

Yuna pulled her panties down, handing them to you as the guys kept massaging her spot. You smiled as you sniffed her underwear, the amazing scent of her pussy impregnating your nostrils and getting you even hornier. Yuna tried to grab her panties back, but you pushed them out of her reach. "They are mine now, you don't need those for tonight," you told her as both of you laughed.

The guys in the backseat pulled Yuna's dress to the side as well, unveiling her perky and delicious tits in the process. Yuna moaned and smiled as both guys to her side dove to suck her boobs like hungry babies while she rubbed her clit. And that was just the start.

"Are you guys gonna fuck all my holes tonight, pass me around and share me?" Yuna asked. "Yes, and we are gonna cum in all of them too," you answered. You always loved that Yuna always asked the right questions, she had no fear of openly talking about the way she wanted to get used, fucked, pounded, truly a girl that was horny 24/7/365.

"Fuck, ahhhhh, you're getting me so wet," Yuna moaned as you reached to finger her clit and prepare herself for a special night. You guys finally reached the destination, climbing upstairs to the secret house you had rented for tonight. "That's it, it's going to happen, I'm gonna get passed around until I tap out," Yuna said, already heavily anticipating the special night.

"Hi boys," Yuna greeted your crew as she was the last to arrive in the living room. "Hey hey hey," you greeted her back as the guys were chilling in the room with their t-shirts already out and their muscles in full display. As Yuna was still mesmerized, you surprised her from behind, grabbing her tits as the guys one by one got out of their chairs and started surrounding her.

You kiss Yuna's neck as hands run all over her. "That's so fucking sexy," she says. "Fuck, I wanna taste all of you," she continues as you pick up her phone and film her getting groped from all sides by your crew, her tits popping out of her dress already. But Yuna is unfazed, as she moves in your direction and rips your belt off in one go, quickly getting her hands on her most coveted prize.

Yuna grabs your already hard cock and starts massaging it. The other guys quickly get jealous, answering by ripping her dress apart. Yuna smiles as she gets stripped naked and her dress tossed to the floor. One guy sucks her tits while another runs his hand over her belly.

Yuna quickly gets on her knees as she gets surrounded by cocks from all sides. You're the first to serve her, putting your meat right in her horny mouth and filming as she sucks it. Rotating in a clockwise direction, Yuna goes through each guy's cock, sucking them to perfection as she puts their shafts deeper and deeper in her throat.

"Give me all those cocks please," Yuna commands as she reaches the final guy in the circle, jerking his cock off hard and deepthroating him. She keeps moving from guy to guy. When your turn arrives again, you grab her head and fuck her pretty face, shoving it in the direction of your crotch and enjoying the gagging sounds that come out of her mouth while your balls hit her chin.

"Choke on this dick, bitch," you tell Yuna as your meat bulges under her cheeks. She tries to push back but you quickly show her who's in control, taking another round of fast thrusts into her mouth as you grab Yuna right by her long hair and make her gag on your cock.

"It's free use night, guys," you tell your crew as Yuna moves to please the other dudes. She bobs her head on the next cock, but just like with you, quickly gets her face pounded once again. She looks at you with her big eyes wide open and jerks your cock off while choking on the dude's dick, finishing with a gagging deepthroat.

Yuna gets hornier and hornier, making insane moves with her mouth as she gives head to all your crew, stuffing her mouth full of cock and deepthroating them one by one while giving her attention to at least two more cocks as she jerks them off. "Pound that fucking mouth," you tell your friends, who follow your instructions perfectly, grabbing Yuna's head and thrusting their huge cocks right inside it as soon as she starts sucking them.

Yuna remains surrounded by cocks for many minutes, enjoying every second of it as she gets to taste multiple flavors of man meat. Rapidly moving her head from one cock to another, Yuna quickly takes control of the situation, you guys struggling to keep pace with her fast-moving mouth that jumps from cock to cock with ease.

You try to tame Yuna with another facefuck, to no avail as she handles it with ease and slowly rises to be the star of the show. Your cocks are now at her mercy, Yuna now choking on every dick that gets in her sight, handling the plowings to her face like a champion.

"YEAHHHHH!" Yuna enthusiastically screams as you get behind her and bend her over. She knows what's coming and can't wait for the real fun to start. "Are you ready to fuck me? Stuff all my fucking holes?" Yuna asks, grabbing two other cocks to keep sucking while you shove yours in her pussy. "AHHHH," she moans as your large meat penetrates her cunt, making her go even crazier and bounce her mouth from cock to cock on the opposite side.

"OH FUCK," Yuna screams as you start giving her pussy the first thrusts while she gets spit-roasted, the guy with the cock in her mouth always fucking her face. "OH FUCK THAT FEELS GOOD," she keeps moaning as your cock gets deeper inside her.

You detach Yuna from the other guys cocks, grabbing her slim waist and pushing her supermodel body in your direction. "FUCK YEAH USE ME, AHHHHH, AHHHH" she screams as she gets plowed from behind in a standing doggy position and grope her cute tits. The other guys don't stand idle, worshipping her hot body with kisses and licks as you stretch out Yuna's tight, bushy pussy.

"OH GOD I LOVE YOUR COCK, OH YEAH, FUCK, AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH" Yuna moans as she rolls her eyes with you pounding her harder and harder from behind, her slim body jiggling at each thrust you give deep in her cunt. After a few more poundings, you drop her to keep sucking the other guys' cocks, watching as she goes full slutty and deepthroats them one by one.

"Oh yeah, give me all of them," Yuna begs as she's encircled again and you guys slap your cocks in her pretty face and then plow it one by one. She sticks her tongue out, giving each guy a no-hands blowjob while always keeping her hands occupied jerking other cocks off. "Yes baby, such a good girl," you say as Yuna endlessly bobs her head on those big cocks, covering them full of her nasty saliva.

"Come on, bitch, suck those cocks," you tell Yuna, giving her cute big pale ass a spank as it lines behind you. She immediately follows your orders, giving the guy in front of her a soul-sucking blowjob, you pick up her phone to film it as she stays glued to the guy's balls. "Oh damn it," the dude says as his massive cock just disappears inside Yuna's sexy mouth.

"That's right," you tell Yuna as another guy spanks her ass while she bends over once again to lick your shaft. With her pussy ripe for the taking, the other guys line up behind her, ready to use her in heavy rotation.

"It's free use time," you tell the guys as Yuna chokes on your cock. "HMMMM, HMMM, HMMMM," she moans as her mouth gets stuffed full of your meat and her cunt gets stuffed too. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, AHHHHH," she continues to moan as one dude grabs her waist and plows her from behind. Yuna gets caught by surprise with his hard thrusts but quickly searches for your cock to put it back in her mouth and for two more on her side to jerk it off.

Yuna gets used nonstop, as each guy fucks her harder than the previous one, while your cock holds a monopoly of her mouth. "DON'T STOP, I WANNA FUCK ALL OF YOU" she says, tapping her clit as she gets her bushy pussy destroyed by your crew of monster cocks, you taking advantage to film her getting fucked hard from behind as your friends' cocks rotate in her holes and her tits bounce like crazy.

"Give me more," Yuna begs as she sticks her tongue out to suck more cock, you filming all of it from her phone as she's got one cock in her pussy, one in her mouth, and two in her hands. You quickly move back into the circle, as your friends use Yuna like a bunch of horny animals and you don't want to be left behind on that, muffling her moans as she gets put on all fours by one of the guys and begs him to use her. "OH YEAH USE MY PUSSY," she says as she drops her head to the floor.

You get back behind Yuna, watching as one of your friends stretches her needy cunt out and makes her moan hard, capturing a perfect shot of her big ass. "Who wants to go next?" the guy fucking her announces, suddenly picking up the pace and delivering a final handful of hard thrusts in her pussy that make her scream as his cock hits Yuna's cervix. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she moans, as you prepare to take your turn in her next.

You give Yuna's sexy ass a tap before firmly gripping her from behind and taking her pussy at full speed. "OH YEAH, OH YEAH, OH YEAH," she moans as you turn her into your free-use fleshlight, clapping her fat cheeks hard before lifting her body, carry-fucking her in front of your friends. "MORE, MORE, MORE, TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT," Yuna says as you push your cock upwards and make it bulge under her belly while one of your friends reaches to pinch her tits as her body gets drilled up in the air.

"Serve those cocks," you say as you put Yuna back on the ground and spank her butt once again. She quickly crawls towards your friend's throbbing rods, vigorously sucking them off before landing on your cock and having her face plowed hard as soon as it hits her mouth.

One of your friends grabs Yuna's body and shoves her on the couch, her quickly getting on all fours for another round of fucking and spit-roasting. "Yeah give me more," she begs as you move the couch into a better position to allow your crew to attack Yuna's body at every possible angle. The guy answers spanking her butt and shoving more cock in her mouth, but Yuna now is in full control. "Shit, that bitch still tight after all that fucking," the guy taking her pussy says.

"Yes, I'm your dirty slut, fuck me until I tap out," Yuna begs and moans as another guy takes his turn in her pussy. As soon as she senses a new cock coming in, Yuna moves her large hips and spins on it like the good whore she is, her cheeks jiggling at each thrust her pussy gets, Yuna showing that she can take on a whole crew of guys and come out on top.

You take another turn on Yuna's pussy, grabbing her hair as you start pumping her cunt hard. "Yeah, yeah, take that cock you stupid whore," you dirty-talk her. "OH YEAH," she screams as the hair-pulling gets stronger and stronger, loud noises coming out of her fat cheeks every time you hit deep in her pussy. "I fucking love it," she announces as you keep messing with her hair. "Yeehaw," you say as you intensely pull her hair and another guy chokes her. "Take that fucking dick," you tell Yuna as you only push harder and harder in her pussy. "YES," she happily obliges, getting destroyed like a fleshlight.

The next guy in line rotates Yuna's body, lifting one of her legs as he fucks her while you line up in front of her for Yuna to taste your cock. "Hmmm delicious," she says, sticking her tongue out and grabbing her jiggly tits while her bushy cunt keeps getting drilled. "Keep using that bitch," you tell the guys. "Yes, use me, shove all those fucking cocks in my mouth," Yuna rapidly answers.

You quickly oblige and stuff Yuna's mouth full of cock. On the other side, the guys keep drilling her bushy pussy nonstop, groaning hard as her tight hole pushes them to the edge. "Oh shit," one guy says, having to hold himself not to blow his load early in her pussy. The couch free use spit-roasting fun continues, each guy taking his turn on Yuna's young pussy and sexy mouth. "Hell yeah, what a slut," one of them says.

Yuna rolls her eyes as she's turned into a full-time cocksleeve. One guy pulls out, and the next one is quickly in, her mouth and pussy are used to the fullest as she now dives to suck the guy's balls. Each fuck is faster and harder than the one before, but she holds her own amidst a horny horde of monster cocks passing her around.

"Let me ride this big cock," Yuna tells you, who quickly sits on the couch as she sits on your cock. "Look at me doing all that work, fuck" Yuna says as your cock instantly disappears in her pussy. Yuna rides you like a demon. "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah," she moans, her bounces being fast and well-paced, all that while grabbing a pair of cocks to jerk off and one to suck.

"OH FUCK YEAH," Yuna moans as your big cock impales her cunt all the way deep. "She's loving this," one of the guys comments just as you spank her ass. They are mesmerized by the way she bounces on your cock and surprised you haven't blown your load in her pussy yet, given how insanely she moves her hips up and down that big fat pole.

Yuna increases the pace of her ride, putting your cock at her mercy. "HMMM YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," she moans, her large hips moving fast as her pussy grinds all over your dick, you are forced to flip her around not to cum early.

But Yuna wants more, quickly opening her legs as she gets herself on the couch in a missionary position, letting you keep penetrating her pussy "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah," she keeps moaning as her cunt gets plowed while another dude feeds her your cock for her to suck. "Stroke that fucking cock," you tell her.

Yuna does more than that, diving under the guy to lick his balls and asshole. "Oh fuck," he moans as Yuna rims the guy to the fullest. Seeing it, you quickly have an idea.

"You like licking assholes, how about we fuck your asshole, slut?" you ask Yuna. "Oh yes, please, fuck my asshole," she begs and gets it as you insert your cock in her tight backdoor.

You show no mercy towards Yuna, pushing your cock as deep as you can in her butthole from the start. "Oh my God," she moans as you attack her anal hole. "Come on guys, let's take turns fucking her ass," you command as another cock replaces yours in Yuna's ass and claps his balls against her cheeks. "Oh yeah, I need all those cocks one by one in my ass, use that fucking hole" she begs.

The crew keeps taking turns assfucking Yuna on the couch, much to her enjoyment. "Oh it feels so good," she softly moans, reaching for the other guys' cocks as the next guy in line drills her ass the hardest. "OH FUCKING YES, USE THAT ASS, YEAH, YEAH" she begs as the guy starts choking her.

"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, DESTROY MY FUCKING ASS," Yuna begs as her butthole gets drilled almost to the point she starts losing her breath. As soon as the anal fucking is done, Yuna spreads her ass for your crew, showing you the big gape you left in her bum. "I want the next cock," she pleads as a tattoed dude stuffs her anus next and fingers her cunt, teasing her ass putting his cock in and out of it, before giving Yuna a rough drilling that makes her body bounce while pinching her clit.

Yuna laughs as the cock rotation in her ass keeps going. "I'm your fucktoy," she says as you come in again, her long legs now over the head as the couch quickly turns into her favorite place to fuck. "Yes, please, use me, keep using my ass" she begs, fisting her long fingers in her pussy while she gets assfucked. "Say it again, you look so sexy saying those dirty words," you tell her. "USE MY ASS, PLEASE, USE ME LIKE A FUCKING FUCKTOY," Yuna answers and soon tells the guys what she wants next.

"I want two cocks inside me," Yuna begs. She gets up and sucks your cock as one dude lets her sit on his and starts drilling Yuna's cunt from down low. "AH, AH, AH, AH, OH FUCK, OH FUCK" she rapidly moans. You soon come in and shove your cock back in her asshole. "YES I WANT TWO COCKS, PLEASE," she demands.

Yuna feels happier than ever as she's got a pair of cocks stuffing her needy holes. "OH MY GOD," she moans as you and your friend pump her in perfect sync. "OH YES, FILL UP MY FUCKING HOLES, THAT FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD" she commands as you keep pushing your cock deeper and deeper into her asshole. "Oh yeah I feel so stretched out, my tight holes getting shaped by those big cocks," she moans.

"Fuck my ass deep," Yuna begs as your full length is buried in her asshole and you pound it balls deep. Your friend does the same with her pussy. "PUSH THOSE BIG COCKS IN ME, I WANT MORE," she says, reaching to suck another guy and go airtight.

Yuna spreads her cheeks as you let your friends take turns stuffing her ass. The only sound you can hear now from her is Yuna choking on another cock as she gets stuffed airtight. "Take it, bitch," you say as you watch her get plowed from behind. "AHHHHH, FUCKKKK, IT'S SO FUCKING BIG" Yuna screams, getting caught by surprise as your friend attacks deep in her ass.

Yuna gets mounted as the airtight double stuffing continues, and more guys rotate in. "I'm ready for the next fucking cock," Yuna says as the next guy fucking her ass chokes her and pushes her body in his direction hard. "I'M YOUR FREE USE WHORE, I LOVE WHEN YOU SHARE ME," Yuna screams just as her pale ass gets spanked and the guy fucking her from behind grabs her hair.

"Oh my God, five cocks at once," Yuna says as she bobs her head on your cock. She isn't lying, leaving only one of the guys out of the fun as she strokes two guys, you stuff her in her mouth and two more dudes penetrate her pussy and asshole. The dude fucking her ass pushes her face in the direction of your cock, forcing her to deepthroat it, while the guy immediately to your side hits her pretty slutty face with his big fat cock.

"YEAH, YEAH, I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ALL THOSE COCKS," Yuna screams as she keeps getting used to all directions. You grab her head and fuck her face once again, "Shit, girl, you're amazing," you praise her as the airtight DP keeps going on, Yuna rolling her eyes as she gets turned into a full-time cocksleeve.

"Holy shit," the guys fucking her from behind groan as Yuna's ass gets smashed between their muscular bodies. "So good, so good," Yuna says as she guys plowing her pussy thrusts from down low. "FUCK IT'S SO BIG," Yuns screams as she gets surprised by your cock hitting her ass and then grabbing her by the waist and clapping her cheeks.

Yuna flips around as she sits her ass on your cock, ready to get double stuffed in reverse this time. "Oh yeah, right in my ass," she says as she impales herself on your dick, opening her legs as you finger her cunt while she's anally drilled. "YES I LOVE BOUNCING ON YOUR COCK, BEING YOUR LITTLE TOY, YOUR SLUTTY FUCKDOLL," she says as the other guy's hands are all over her sexy body now, two guys groping her tits as she bounces on your cock.

One by one, the guys spread her legs and enter Yuna's wide-open pussy, sandwiching her as she gets pounded balls deep in both holes. You let another guy provide the anchor role as Yuna spins on his cock before fully sitting her ass on it. "I want more," Yuna says as you give her what she wants, stuffing your cock deep in her bushy pussy in a mating press position, her cunt queefing as soon as you penetrate her.

"AH, AH, AH, OH YES, RIGHT THERE," Yuna moans as your cock hits deep in her pussy. "That's so fucking hot," she says as she gets sandwiched between two monster rods pumping her hard. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER DONE," Yuna says as you stretch her pussy out. You let the guys have fun, Yuna in a completely submissive position to their cocks entering her. "Is that what you want, baby?" one of them asks. "Yeah, that's what I fucking want," she answers.

The double drilling of Yuna continues as she gets passed around like a hot potato, challenging every guy to fuck her. Once she's done, you pick Yuna up and stick your cock back in her pussy, with another guy coming in as you two perform a standing DP on her. Yuna moans hard and gives you a naughty stare as she gets drilled up in the air. "I'M YOUR FUCKDOLL, DADDY, DON'T STOP USING ME," she says.

Yuna rises to the challenge, bouncing on both cocks despite being suspended in the air. "I love the way you fuck my pussy and my ass at the same fucking time," she says. You open her legs and drill her cunt, before letting Yuna bounce on the other guy's ass and get back to being double stuffing in the couch, her pussy queefing more than ever.

"AH YEAH, FUCK, UHHHH," Yuna moans as her cunt gets drilled fast. "Give it to her," you tell the guys as her pussy gets drilled while the guy on the bottom fucking her ass chokes her. You come in and let her suck your balls and rim your asshole. "HMMMM, HMMM," she moans as you sit on her face and she keeps getting sandwiched, her body jiggling as the guys give her cunt very hard thrusts.

Yuna takes one more round of a traditional airtight cowgirl stuffing, with you taking her in the ass as she gets all her holes filled. You pound her asshole hard while the guy fucking her face makes her gag on his dick. She looks very wasted at this point, after over 40 minutes of getting turned into a cocksleeve

"I want you to cum in me," Yuna begs as you guys start going for solo rounds with her. You are the first as you start pumping her bushy pussy, groaning as her walls squeeze your cock. "I want cum in all three of my fucking holes, in my pussy, in my ass, in my mouth," she begs as you keep pounding her while she fingers her clit.

Yuna spreads her cunt and plays with her clit as you fuck her. "Fuck my pussy until you cum in it," she begs, giving you a naughty smile. "Give me all that fucking cum," she says. "Are you ready for it?" you ask her back. "YEAH! GIVE IT TO ME." she enthusiastically answers.

"AHHHHH FUCK," you groan as Yuna's tight walls squeeze your cock and make you fill her pussy to the brim. You pull out just in time to decorate her bush with cum as well, her spreading her lips to show your semen oozing out. "I'm ready boys, I want more," she says, rubbing her clit and fingering her cunt in anticipation;

The next guy comes in and puts his cock in her asshole. "AH YES, GIVE ME YOUR COCK, GIVE ME YOUR CUM," Yuna begs as he gives her slow pumps into her tight anus. "Oh I can feel it," she says as he bursts inside her asshole not even 10 seconds in, her anus now dripping full of cum as she grabs a bit to taste it.

"Round fucking three," Yuna says as the next guy comes in, already jerking his cock off and ready to ejaculate in her pussy, stroking his dick inside her and giving another load to her cunt. "Oh I love feeling it dripping out," she says, spreading her lips again to catch the cum.

"Three more to go," Yuna says as the next guy shoots his load in her mouth, licking her chops. Another load in her face comes next. "All of it, give me all of it," she begs, sucking and licking the guy's cock after he finishes in her face. "Give it to me, oh yeah," she says as the final guy groans and gives her face a third load, her licking his tip afterward. You then come in and give her midriff a final load, covering her navel full of cum. "Oh wow, so much cum, seven loads for this fucktoy," Yuna says as you guys turn her into a cum dump.

"I want to remember this night forever, come here guys," Yuna says as she walks in the direction of the mirror, grabbing her phone. "Hope you recorded a lot while the other guys were fucking me," she tells you. She lets everybody come into the frame, taking a picture of her with the crew, her body completely sweaty and full of fluids, especially cum. If the night ended right there, it would already be an amazing night, but you had one final idea.

"Yuna, can you get on your knees, I have one final surprise for you," you tell her.

"Of course, Daddy, what is the surprise?" Yuna asks, getting her face right on the sight of your crew's cocks. You are the first to move, hitting her with a surprise yellow jet of piss right in her face. The other guys follow your lead, turning Yuna into a massive urinal as her body drips full of pee, her trying to get as much as possible into her mouth, gargling and swallowing all the yellow liquid that comes into her sight.

"Wow, that was amazing, turning me into a cum dump and a piss dump," Yuna says as your crew leaves, only you and her still at the house, her looking at you with her typical fuck me eyes. And you can tell she's not going back home.

"Daddy, can you fuck me again?"

[endless-ineffabilities]

sapphire-hearted (part five) 18+

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The reader decides to give Aemond a proper goodbye - one that befits what became of the bond they share.

themes/warnings: smut (minors dni) - a bitter breakup roll in the hay, jealous and possessive and idiotic Aemond

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Aegon's jeering from the great hall has barely subsided before you harshly pull yourself away from Aemond's hold.

"Seven fucking hells, Aemond," you exclaim, your voice ringing in the empty hallway. "Why did you do that? Why must you humiliate me in such a way?"

"You humiliate me," he spits, matching your venom, "by declaring yourself as betrothed to that snivelling bastard."

"He is no bastard," you seethe, your finger poking at his chest. "He is a gentle Lord, and a far more decent man than you will ever be. And I am certain that he will honour me when he soon becomes my Lord husband."

"No." Aemond lurches forward, cradling your face with both hands. There is pressure to his hold - he is letting his anger take over him. "No, my love," he repeats, softer, his shoulders releasing their tension.

Your resolve falters at his words. They used to be a thing you would spin in your mind, over and over, an endless song to sing. My love. "You cannot me call me that, Aemond," you murmur. "That is no longer true, if indeed it ever was."

"You doubt me so," he lowers his head, as if wounded.

But you do not have it in you to soften your approach. "You have given me every reason to doubt you, Aemond. I can no longer trust you. Not after Alys."

At the mention of her name, he is rendered alert, a wild look in his eye. "Yes. Alys."

"I do not wish to hear of her," you step away from him, but he only moves in your path.

"I have something to tell you, my love." He reaches for your hand, and you are too exhausted, too uncaring to fight back. "She has agreed to put an early end to our arrangement. Yet she will continue to aid our cause, ensuring that we win the war."

It seemed too good to be true. You are unable to believe that the witch would simply relinquish the power she has with Aemond. And you are proven correct when he adds, "But she presents one condition. I must give her a child."

The absurdity of it all makes your head spin, and suddenly your skirts weigh far too much for you to bear. Without realizing it, you lean into Aemond for support, seeking balance. He mistakes the gesture for approval - how foolish of him.

"That is ridiculous, Aemond," you croak harshly, your words coming out garbled.

"My love, what - "

"I am afraid you have lost me completely," you pull back, eyes darting around for reprieve. You cannot bring yourself to look at him, your gaze distant and hollow, fixated on nothing. With icy detachment, you murmur, "Go on, then. Wed her, if that is what you wish. Why stop at just making her the mother of your child?"

"You cannot mean that." He flinches at the suggestion.

Taking a deep breath, in finality, you declare, "We have to end whatever we have, Aemond. For both of our sakes. For the sake of your future children with Alys, and mine with Ramsay. We must part ways... and say goodbye."

His expression switches, desperation showing through the cracks in his mask of self-assuredness.

"No." He steps back, instantly rejecting your words. In his warped mind, the thought of separation is impossible. He could never leave you, and you could never leave him. That’s how it has always been, and how it always will be.

To his credit, he actually appears pained. For a moment, you see your Aemond. The only one you have ever loved. You are certain that his pain is reflected in you now.

You reach a hand out, and he tentatively accepts it.

Without a word, you lead him through the halls of the Red Keep.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"To my chambers," you reply firmly. "We both deserve a proper goodbye."

When you reach your destination, the unbearable weight of everything comes crashing down on you. This will be your true final moment with Aemond. You will never get to hold him, kiss him, feel him buried inside of you after this night.

On the morrow, he will be a stranger. He has to be.

He makes an attempt to speak, presumably to inquire upon your reasoning for taking him here. But you do not allow a word to slip past his lips, effectively silencing him with a searing kiss.

He melts unto you instantly, a soft moan escaping his throat as he welcomes your touch.

Your hands move instinctively to the fastenings of his tunic, deftly undoing them without breaking the kiss. He reaches down to come to your aid, his fingers brushing against yours, until the fabric slips from his shoulders and falls in a careless heap on the floor.

His tongue tangles with yours as his hands fumble with the ties on the back of your gown. A low growl escapes him when they don’t loosen as quickly as he'd like, his impatience growing - eager to have you, desperate to taste the sweetness he craves.

It does not much longer before the both of you are left completely bare, as naked as the day you were born. He kisses you hungrily, afraid that you might disappear if he lets go. That you might do good on your threat to leave him.

You push him backward until his heels hit the edge of your bed, causing him to land on his bottom on the sheets.

His hands grip your hips tightly as you stand between his thighs, and he gazes up at you with pure, unrestrained desire. The same way he always has, as if nothing else in the world exists but you.

In this fleeting moment, you will allow it. Nothing and no one else exists except for Aemond and yourself.

With a sharp nudge to his shoulder, he reclines willingly, lying flat on his back, arms held out, silently inviting you to press your body onto his.

You crawl slowly from the edge of the bed toward him, hovering above with lust smoldering in your eyes. He bites his lip at the sight, his erection pressing hard against your lower stomach. As you shift, the slick tip grazes your skin, leaving a heated trail in its wake.

He groans as you let his cock drag across your skin, pulling you close with a strained, "Māzigon kesīr, issa jorrāelagon."

Come here, my love.

The kiss is sloppy, he sucks at your lips while his hands roam the warmth of your body. Groping at your breasts, your hips, then the curve of your ass. He takes two fingers, travelling down your pelvis, until it feels the wetness of your clit. He fondles it eagerly, leaving you mewling softly, and the sounds turn into unbridled open-mouthed moans when his fingers dip inside your dripping cunt.

"Iksos bona sȳz?" he purrs, as he slides them faster in between your folds. Does that feel good?

"Y-yes, Aemond, fuck yes." You collapse on top of him fully, your breasts pressed against the side of his face, your body angled to grant his deft hand unhindered access as he strokes your pussy.

He turns his head to suck at your breasts, his tongue darting out to flick your nipple. His fingers quicken their pace, the squelching sounds blending with your lustful whimpers.

A silken sheen coats his digits, catching the lamplight as they slip out, only to plunge back inside with a deliberate, relentless rhythm.

"Let go, my love," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Allow me to savour the sight of your unraveling."

His words are intoxicating, and you can’t help but use his mouth to muffle your cries, your kisses fervent as you come undone. Your teeth graze his bottom lip as you reach your peak, the sensation of his warm breaths mingling with your gasps of heightened pleasure.

After a moment, as you slump against him, he licks his hand clean of your substance, his good eye darkened with wanton pleasure.

You trail a finger tantalizingly over his chest, lingering on his jaw before it gently glides across the apparatus covering his eye. He remains still, the act of baring himself to you as natural as breathing.

"Does she see you for who you truly are?" you whisper softly.

"No," he replies with a quiet intensity, "only you do, my love. For eternity."

Eternity, you bitterly think, if eternity ends on this night.

With a deliberate motion, you remove the eyepatch from his head and toss it aside. The sapphire in his eye socket gleams with a mesmerizing light, giving him an otherworldly glow.

"My Prince Aemond," you sigh, "my dragon. I am going to ride you until you forget her name."

"She does not matter to me - ahhhh, gods - " His words die in his throat as you align your still dripping cunt with his cock and sink down in one swift and merciless motion, taking him to the hilt until your ass is pressed against his flesh.

Without missing a beat, you continue to ride him with frantic intensity, your breasts bouncing as he forcefully bucks his hips to meet yours. He responds with guttural moans and fragmented words of praise - yes my love, fuck me, you fuck me so well, there is no one else, I love you, I love you, I love you.

"Does she fuck you as well as I?" you ask menacingly, the walls of your pussy clenching around him.

"No." He tilts his head back in sheer bliss. "She could never. When she... uses me... I feel hollow."

As you brace yourself on his chest, your hands gripping him for support, you quicken the pace, aiming for that sweet spot within. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, drawing every ounce of pleasure from his thick cock as you both lose yourselves in the raw, all-consuming passion of the moment.

When he starts to quiver, his length sputtering inside you in those quick, successive jerks, you know this is your cue to release him from your cunt. But this time, you lean forward as you dismount, and pat his cheek in the most patronising manner, saying, "Save your precious seed for Alys. Since she needs it so terribly."

Depraved as it might be, the wickedly cunning expression on your face proves to be Aemond's undoing, that cold glare sensuous to him. With a strangled cry, he erupts, his Targaryen seed spilling across the taut planes of his pelvis in hot, white streams.

His mouth is open in pleasure and surprise as he helps himself through his release, gripping and tugging his cock firmly through the throes of his release. His gaze remains fixed your face, his sole source of pleasure, though the furrow in his brow reveals that he heard your bitter jibe.

"What a waste," you click your tongue in disappointment, eyeing the mess he made.

He still lies there, naked and covered in his own release, as you swiftly pull on your slip dress, followed by the heavy cloak hanging over the chair in the corner.

The emotions that once swirled within you - desire, sadness, yearning - harden into a bitter mix of anger and resentment. This is his doing. It is his fault that tonight will be the last. The love you once shared, the tenderness you once felt, has been shattered by his own hand.

Turning to face him, you bend your knees into a mocking curtsy, an emotionless smile tugging at your lips. "My Prince," you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "If I may be excused. I must fetch my lady-in-waiting to help me into something more fitting. After all, I have a feast to return to... and my betrothed awaits."

Just as your hand touches the door, his desperate voice cuts through the silence, "Wait!" he pleads.

You pause, tears welling in your eyes as you turn ever so slightly. Your voice trembles, barely holding together as you say one last time -

"I love you, Aemond. Goodbye."

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added): @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstorms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul @rorawinters @targaryen-madness @hanula18 @rhaenattargaryen @an0ther-us3r @sugurubabe @theshatteredideal @let-love-bleeds-red @s-we-e-t-t-ea @mydemimonde @the-intjs-dark-academic @heavenly1927 @anehkael @minttea07 @barnes70stark @cheneyq @cloudroomblog @neptuneiris @zaldritzosrose @oh-theseus

Some notes in the margins...

I should point out that in this story, Alys actually has magic and she has been instrumental in bringing about the victory of the Greens. Much like how she aided Daemon in season two, but dialled up to a hundred.

But no. That does not excuse Aemond's actions. Not at all.

Our bitter lovers needed their final, fucked up release. It is final for her, at least. But for Aemond?

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 27 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

Content Warnings: This chapter contains Implied Yandere and slight gore—this is a work of fiction, I do not condone or glorify toxic relationships and violence in real life; experimental writings—a.k.a. me trying out a different style of being more descriptive and new p.o.v.s shifts.

See < End Note > for Bonus Contents, since I feel unhinged after writing this chapter. Might delete those bonus later? Depends.

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Beru landed beside Igris with a faint thud, his wings folding neatly behind him. His antennae twitched; his gaze fixed on the peculiar scene unfolding ahead of them.

“Even my brethren do not deign to partake,” Beru intoned, his clawed hand sweeping toward the shadow ants. “Most unusual, for they oft descend upon such spoils without delay.”

Igris followed the direction of Beru’s gesture and noted the truth of it. The shadow ants, notorious for their ravenous appetites, remained in tight clusters, seemingly hesitant to approach the carnage. Other shadows, like the bears, also hovered at the periphery. Except for Tank, who was otherwise preoccupied with a particular albino young lady. He was making himself comfortable under a canopy, as to not disturb Blanche’s dozing off on his back, drowning herself in the thickness of his coat.

How exceedingly ironic, Beru mused, his multifaceted gaze fixed upon a ravenette as she wrenched a limb asunder with ease, offering half to her pale-haired kin—who, it seemed, struggled to sever her own share from the particularly stubborn carcass. They both then proceed to take a bite simultaneously with an audible crunch.

Is this, perchance, the sentiment humans harbor when they behold us feasting upon their brethren?

Beru’s mandibles clicked.

A most curious sensation, indeed.

“Who would have foreseen that the composed one harbored such… ferocity?”

Igris couldn’t help but agree, though he refrained from speaking it aloud, as they continued to watch Red skinned off and, subsequently, mutilated another carcass.

"Mhm,"

"KIEEEK—!"

By My Liege's—!

{“By My Liege’s will!”

—is what the full oath would’ve been, had Igris spoken aloud.}

"She's scary." Trick hugged herself, visibly shuddering.

“…When did you get here?" Igris hoped what was perceived on the butterfly’s end of the communication line wasn’t as clipped as he had realized his own voice would’ve sounded. Though outwardly composed, it was quite a bit shameful for a knight such as he to admit the slight tightening of his reflexes—the instinctive reach for his sword.

He had almost drawn his weapon at Lady (Name)'s beloved summon.

Though, to be fair, Trick did just… appeared out of thin air.

At the very least, Beru had fared no better. The ant had all but leapt away, wings flared, claws at the ready.

That fact alone granted Igris a measure of solace.

The mentioned silver-haired humanoid tilted her head innocently, “I’ve been here the whole time, though?"

Ah, yes, an illusionist.

Igris recalled Lady (Name)'s words—masters of deception, skilled in the art of trickery. He had merely not expected their craft to be potent enough to slip past his senses. Nor Beru’s.

Granted, the shadows soldiers had never before been the victims of the butterflies’ targeted hallucinations.

…Fortunate that we stand as allies.

No matter how battle-hungry one could be, Igris could not deny the headache these beings would pose as adversaries. And their mistress—even without My Liege’s evident fondness—would have proven a challenge herself alone.

“Speaking of...” Trick’s voice drew his attention as she turned her head and called over her shoulder. “Bestie!”

A blonde figure perked up from her crouched position a short distance away. Sol held a stick in one hand, its tip drawing crude lines in the damp earth. Around her, a small gathering of shadows and butterflies watched intently.

Igris squinted, realizing what Sol had been sketching. Iron, in particular, seemed pleased as he admired the drawing of himself. It wasn’t particularly skillful given the medium, but the exaggerated proportions made him appear larger and stand out more than the other shadow knights drawn into the mud.

"Lady of woe,” A single rose materialized on Trick’s outstretched hand, she brought it closer to plant a kiss. “Bids her halls,” The flower was then thrown, where it burst into a rain of red petals above. “A rosy banquet.” She bowed in curtsy, the extended fabric from behind her blown in the air from the exaggerated movement, momentarily showing the pattern of fluttering silver.

As she rose from the position, she gave a wink, “How's that for your next painting?”

Sol rolled her eyes in jest, giving a mock salute, but her smile bright. Trick bring a hand to her chest and made an expression as if she was hurt, but the subtle lift of her lips, if one would look just a little bit closer, would’ve told another story.

"Anyway," Trick turned back to Igris and Beru—who now had petals stuck all over their armor and exoskeleton respectively—yellow irises alight with something almost dreamy. “Isn’t my sister just the prettiest?!”

It was a well-known fact that the butterflies were far more...vibrant than the shadows—literally and figuratively. Yet even with that knowledge, Igris still found himself unprepared for the sheer whiplash of Trick’s one-eighty.

The stars in her eyes, clasping her hands together, and the swooning sigh were a stark contrast to mere moments ago, when he could practically hear the chills that ran down her spine.

“Did you not just claim she was frightening?” Beru asked, incredulous, every little movement he made causing petals to fly off.

“That’s exactly what makes her more beautiful!” Trick retorted, as if he just offended her.

Igris sighed internally.

Then again, ‘internally’ was the only thing he could achieve in regards to his current level-locked speech—

{Do we really need to remind him?

<<Yes>>}

Back to the situation at hand—

At that point, Igris had already begun tuning them out, letting their bickering fade as background white-noises as he plucked the petals off his armor, letting the reds fell down to the muddy purple-ish ground. His gaze had returned to the ballerina on stage.

The more he observed her, the more she reminded him of a particular kind of women he had only ever exchanged curt words with in his time as a human knight.

Sharp intellects, veiled beneath layers of practiced poise and intricately folded fans. Women who, in an era that condemned outbursts and demanded submission, wielded their wits often more so any man.

The way Red’s delicate fingers plucked a shard of flesh from the centaur-like corpse was not unlike the refined precision of slicing through a Mont Blanc at an olden tea party—silver knife and fork in hand, but otherwise the picture of grace.

And Igris could not help the thought that emerged then—those very same women could be as vicious as a knife to the back upon society’s stage. Ripping one another to shreds with honeyed words and carefully calculated maneuvers that would ruin rather than kill.

Whether one was complacent or bold, none were spared in the brutal games of favor, wealth, and power.

Igris knew that better than anyone.

“F-Father—"

Thump.

“…”

His gaze lingered, distant at times.

"She reminds me of the noblewomen of old..."

As he recalled how Red often followed Lady (Name) without fail—always at her beck and call.

With a contemplative hum, Igris continued his musing.

"Court ladies?"

Trick made a grand gesture with both hands of Igris for Beru to see—

Ding. Ding. Ding!

. . .

…Where did that sound even came from—

"See? He gets it!"

Ignoring one annoyed shadow ant, she turned toward Igris beaming, her voice brimming with pride. “You’re not far off the mark, Sir Knight! My sister was a duchess!”

… ‘was’?

“You should’ve seen her, Sir Knight!” Trick continued, practically vibrating with excitement. “She was such a riot! Even now—”

"Child. Fetch."

In an instant, Trick straightened, catching a tiny chunk of flesh casually thrown her way directly with her mouth. She bit into it immediately, her silver hair swaying lightly as her expression contorted into a disgruntled one a few chews in.

Igris could only stare, his judgment hidden behind his armored helm. Beside him, Beru clicked his mandibles in what Igris assumed was shared disbelief.

How... peculiar, this court of butterflies is.

——oOo——

Red approached the trio, uniform somehow remained as immaculate as ever. The white clean, the black and red mayhap hid any mess that might’ve been. Gracefully unhurried—as if she hadn't partaken in anything as taxing as a butchery in a rainy, muddy jungle.

"Well?" One brow was arched in pointed inquiry as her gaze settled on Trick.

"…Bitter." Trick swallowed with apparent difficulty before sticking her tongue out, as though the act would’ve contributed on getting rid of the horrid taste on her tastebud.

Red’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, Igris thought he heard her mutter under her breath, “At least she didn’t throw up.” Then, with a quiet sigh, she continued, “Didn’t you beg Mother to invest points into some < Devourer >’s skills for you?”

A picnic basket materialized in Red’s hand. She handed it to Trick.

"A < Devourer > can't afford to be picky." Red added, watching as Trick hesitantly took the basket.

When Trick lifted the lid, the scent of iron hit both Igris and Beru. The neatly packed cubes of raw meat inside were unmistakably from the magic beasts they had slain. Each piece was cut with surgical precision, their edges clean and uniform.

Trick wrinkled her nose, initially recoiling at the sight. But, as if she had a sudden light-bulb moment, her expression shifted. She turned around, scanning the area with renewed determination until her eyes landed on the sleeping duo under canopy.

“B—”

“Are you expecting her to cook for you right now?” Red interjected; her tone flat. “No.”

"Then–"

“Freeze it for later?” Red crossed her arms. “Sure, she could. Except the fact that it'll just be ordinary meat by then. The sooner you eat it, the more points you’ll gain. That’s the whole point of this exercise, isn’t it?”

"B-But—"

"Eat."

Trick’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and she complied, reluctantly picking up one of the cubes and placing it in her mouth. Her expression was dejected as she chewed, each bite taken with the exaggerated misery of someone enduring a punishment.

Chew.

“…”

Swallow.

“…hic.”

Red let out another sigh watching Trick’s display.

“…Have the garments been handed out?”

When Trick nodded pitifully in affirmative, Red plucked a cube of meat from the basket herself. The smell of burning wafted as the raw meat darkened and sizzled between her fingertips. Then, she brought it to the younger’s lips, and Trick took it gratefully.

"Better?"

Trick nodded vigorously as she chewed, her mood visibly improving. Red patted her head gently.

"Beru."

The shadow ant stiffened, mandibles clicking in surprise. He had not expected to be called. And yet, as her crimson gaze settled upon him, he swore—for reasons beyond his comprehension—that her eyes softened.

"Here."

Red snapped her fingers, and near Beru’s feet materialized several large stacks of... tupperware???

“We noticed the soldiers weren’t eating, so we took the liberty of saving some up for you all,” Red explained, gesturing toward the containers as she fed another carefully prepared morsel to Trick. “It’s only fair, considering most of the kills were yours.”

“We do not require—”

“I am well aware that shadows don’t require such sustenance,” Red cut in smoothly. “That eating is more habit than necessity. But we wanted to express our gratitude for the meal. It was also—technically—the first time some of us handled prep work. So please, it would make us very happy if you would accept our thanks.”

Beru hesitated before peering inside one of the containers. His antennae twitched as the scent of fresh meat drifted upward. True to her words, each was filled to the brim with neatly portioned flesh—cut into cubes, spheres, hearts, stars… even bunny-shaped pieces.

Igris, though remained silent, could not help but marvel too. When had the butterflies managed to harvest, prepare, and store all this without anyone noticing? A feat that bordered on the miraculous—or the terrifying, depending on one’s perspective.

Beru glanced from the containers to Red, then to Trick—who, upon feeling his stare, conspicuously turned away, still chewing.

After a pause, he straightened. “…On behalf of the shadows, I thank you, Madame.”

Red tilted her head but did not seem displeased. A faint smile ghosted her lips.

“Please send our regards to the others.”

She nodded once in acknowledgment.

Beru then turned his gaze toward Trick. “And you as well. Thank you.”

“…Hmph.”

Red shoved feed another cooked piece into Trick’s mouth with the same gentle care—ensuring that Trick didn’t start sulking again.

And so, Igris continued to observe. The way Red treated Trick and Beru—like children under her care.

It is… oddly endearing.

——oOo——

As the last vestiges of flesh disappeared into eager mouths, loose fabrics flowed like waterfalls. When the dark warriors merged back with their master of shadows, white tunics danced like packs of swans with the reemergence of kaleidoscope flights from behind. Thus, your newborns, ready to be greeted in your gardens—their home, joined their origins in kind and disappeared from the skies in dust of gold. Left in their wake, stark and gleaming, alabaster-white under the relentless rain—terrain of eerie beauty stripped bare of chaos.

"So..." Jinwoo cleared his throat, brushing rain-slicked hair from his forehead as the bags of essence stones disappeared into his inventory. "Is this something I should expect after every raid?”

He meant to say it in jest, an attempt to break the ice fell short when the beat of silence stretched, before you turned to him, your expression soft but distant, as though part of you was somewhere else.

“Sorry,” A fleeting gold, like light rippling through water. “Could you repeat that?”

Jinwoo’s gaze flickered briefly to the battlefield before back to meeting yours.

"...That," He jabbed his thumb toward the clearing behind—or rather, to what had taken place there just moments ago—with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do I need to get used to that?”

“You don’t have to,” You replied softly, gaze drifting to the desolate expanse. But then, in a blink, as if only just now waking from a dream, your brows knitted, a look more concerned for him than the situation. Meeting gazes again, a thread of worry weaved your voice. “Does it bother you? I can—”

“Wait, slow down.” Jinwoo interjected quickly, raising a hand before you could go down the rabbit hole of drastic measures—only you could come up with—if you thought he was truly disturbed. Measures you would follow to a T, no matter the inconvenience. He knew you well enough by now to guess, and the last thing he wanted was for you to overthink this.  “It’s just… new. Need a little time to adjust, sure—”

He'd long been desensitized to the horrors of this world. Keeping up with you had kept him on his toes more often of course, but who wouldn’t be at least a little shocked when those pretty little things displayed a primal side so openly that might’ve rivaled his shadows?

Systematic, elegant, and utterly ruthless.

Struggling to reconcile it with the image one had grown accustomed to—

You studied him for a moment, a quiet hum leaving your lips. “If it makes you uncomfortable, they don’t have to do it. They don’t need blood or flesh to function as usual, but… it’s more beneficial now.”

“How so?”

—and curiosity just won over in the end.

Your tone shifted to something more matter-of-fact. “For the younger ones, besides the extra exp to level them up, the bonus energy gained can make them more effective, stay active longer. As supports, you know the drill, but in terms of gathering information? They can further interact with people directly without being as quickly exhausted independent of me.”

Huh.

That’s useful.

Very useful.

As unsettling as the image of butterflies devouring raw flesh was, and the sight of human body made from the inside, the utility might be worth the goosebumps.

Other inappropriate uses aside—as far as his own shadows went, they were invaluable for protection and surveillance. But they weren’t equipped for subtle interactions. They couldn’t question people or coax out information—not in the way your butterflies apparently capable of at least.

As much as Beru’s value went, Jinwoo doubted anyone would open up willingly to a towering, insectoid figure interrogating them unless stated otherwise, or to any shadow soldiers for that matter, whether they could speak or not. Informed targets might not be ideal at times.

Fear was still a viable option, but he would rather not have his kids terrorize innocents.

Your butterflies, on the other hand, would definitely be more practical in extracting information if they could disguise themselves and blend seamlessly into society.

As for acting with autonomy—Jinwoo thought back to that time in the snow-land red gate and let a smirk tugged at his lips.

They’re persuasive alright.

They seemed freer also in the sense that they weren’t bound to other objects to move, with few exceptions but definitely still less than shadows were to his soldiers.

Imagine the possibilities.

Jinwoo was almost jealous.

All in all, his shadows were the perfect battle weapons, warriors, and guards. Yours? The perfect supports, spies, even informants.

How much more of a perfect complement could this be?

Speaking of...

Jinwoo’s gaze drift to you. His lips pressed into a thin line.

Should he ask you?

Should he attach a soldier to you?

Ah, so you don’t trust her after all.

The voice was insidious and sharp—like his daggers.

The pang in his chest was immediate and heavy—guilt?

I do, the heart argued, vehement.

It’s for her—

For her or for you?

Mocking.

Does she really need you to keep her safe?

Taunting.

You barely know who she is.

Then I’ll keep learning, to get to know her, properly.

Is that not just another excuse to keep her close then?

Ah.

All this time, still just scratching the surface—

He went through this before.

I want to know her (everything).

Silence.

"That's... convenient."

Really?

Jinwoo winced internally.                                 

Was that all he can say? Couldn’t he come up with a proper compliment? Even saying something along the lines of the lame-old “cool” would be better at this point!

Why was he such a mess in front of the one person he wanted to—

“Thank you.”

Oh.

Damnit.

Damn you, for how tender you looked at that moment, standing just within his reach.

Damn you, for those knowing and fond eyes, staring back at him.

Damn you, for how soft your lips looked in that smile, directed at him.

Fingers twitched on his sides.

Damn him, for craving you to look at him (always).

“Take the < Illusionists > for example.”

You lifted your hand to his view, fingers curled, holding something out of sight, “Not only do they gain more knowledge to reach perfect mimicry…”

A single cherry blossom unfurled in your palm.

“…the duration of their skills also lasts much longer.”

Before Jinwoo could process, you exhaled softly.

He was then bombarded with multiple blossoms, straight to his face.

“Pfft.” You stifled a laugh behind your hand at his widened eyes and slightly parted lips. What made the sight sillier in your eyes was the silver butterfly perched on his cheek, chiming—

“Good day, Sir. Goodbye, Sir. Have a pleasant day!”

—before going poof!

Jinwoo didn’t move.

On instinct, his mana flared—to sense, to analyze—but there was nothing. He couldn’t detect the signature presence illusions carried, the usual flicker of magic that would have clued him in under normal circumstances.

No.

For a second there, he absolutely couldn’t sense you, even though his gaze never left yours.

And that—that was definitely not < Stealth >.

“The < Devourers > and < Conversion-ists> are more straightforward.”

You continued, as if you hadn’t just—

“To sum it up, the < Devourers > gain more physical bonuses—strength, durability, and such. While the < Conversion-ists > receive more ‘recipes,’ essentially.”

Jinwoo swallowed. His hand twitched.

“Jinwoo?”

You reached out, fingers hovering near his cheek but hesitated at the very last second, merely a hair’s breadth away before your fingertips could graze his damp skin, when you saw how empty his gaze had become behind dripping raven bangs.

“I can’t…”

His grip caught your wrist before you could retreat.

You neither flinched nor pulled away.

“You just—!”

Vanished.

Like a g̴l̷i̶t̴c̸h̴.̵

Jinwoo’s jaw tightened.

His eyes—

They reminded you of the last few chapters of the manhwa. Building up his decision to bear the fate of the whole world on his shoulders, alone. The way Normal Selner had looked at him, realizing he had already succeeded. How the illustration depicted his irises as pitch black, swallowing all light with naught a trace.

Oh, please don’t make that face.

"Jinwoo…" You gently brought his hand—the one gripping yours so tightly you felt the joints shifting under—and his other hand to your cheeks.

"See?" You closed your eyes, pressing your face against his touch.

Yeah.

Jinwoo exhaled, slow, unsteady.

Then—he leaned in.

Your presence—you—against his palms.

Right here. You’re right here.

Until his forehead could touch yours.

And so, so warm.

——oOo——

{In illustrations, we could take creative liberties to depict our reality.}

{Whether it’s creating multiple aspects out of proportions openly or changing just a single, subtle enough detail, one reason is to clue us in on the meaning behind it.}

{So, I’m curious…}

{If I described the moment Jinwoo leaned in, the moment light returned to his eyes at your touch, your warmth—

The black in his eyes rippled.

Like ink washing away, the pitch dark gave way to stormy grey. Then lighter. Until—

Against the glowing hue of blue, at the very center of it all—

(you)

If you simply knew, if you simply saw how that light reflected, unmistakable in its shape.

A heart…}

{How would you react, ‘Trial Player’? ~}

——oOo——

“What were you thinking about earlier?”

“Hm?” You blinked at him.”

“When I first asked about the < Feast >,” Jinwoo clarified. “You seemed… distracted.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You paused, gaze dropping. “Just…”

“Just?” He pressed gently.

“I can feel it,” Your voice was barely a whisper as your hand rose to your chest, resting over your heart.

“How happy they are.”

“‘They’?” Jinwoo asked, though he already suspected the answer.

"My children,” Your gaze met his then, and something in your expression shifted. The edges of your eyes softened, your expression so tender, so genuine, it took his breath away again. “Eating makes them happy."

“I’m happy for them,” you added simply, smiling so radiantly—

—so disarmingly, it almost made him forget the reality of your words.

Jinwoo found himself staring, wondering how someone could look so utterly beautiful in such unsettling context. Spoken of something so—objectively—disturbing with the way of tone so warmth, so truthful, so serene, that made it feel natural, made it feel... right.

And yet, he couldn’t look away.

And yet, he didn’t feel repulsed.

And yet… he was the one who felt strangely electrified—

No.

—Jinwoo was thrilled.

The hum of the gate beckoned, a low, resonant vibration that pulled you both back to the present.

It was time to leave.

End Note:

Unedited Draft of [28/02/2025]

Double update? Double update. 😉

Thank you @eternadreeblissa for providing this chapter's surprise illustration! The version I put here is cropped a bit to bring out more focus on the eyes. I'll provide the full-version + the alternate versions ('cause all of them are too good to pass up) in this chapter's reblog here! 🙏🥹❤️

How do we feel about breaking-the-4th-wall segments, Everyone? Yea or Nay? 🤔

Beru, I love you, but your pattern of speech is killing me. 😭

Igris, you're a good boy. I'm sorry I'm making you that-one-tired-roommate-of-Beru's-before-Bellion-arrived. I'm also sorry if me bringing up your past—which I also took some creative liberties on in writing—dug up any past trauma for you. 🙏🥹

Trick is dramatic, theatrical, and fangirl all-in- one. Low-key female & human-but-also-not-so version of Beru? Hmm, maybe. Hopefully, I can make her distinct enough from Beru so their kinda love-hate dynamic that I'm aiming for won't be boring. 🫡

Guess which < Children of 'Trial Player' > took after (Name)'s motherly nature the most? That's right, Red. I guess not much surprise there? She's that-one-older-sister-who-mothered but is still her mother's daughter. 🥹❤️

On crack, JinwooxReader in this chapter is basically these:

{ —1—

Jinwoo: *Making up his mind about something-something deep related to (Name)*

(Name): *Making Jinwoo question absolutely everthing about his decision just a few seconds later*

(And this won't be the last time this happen.) }

{ —2—

(Name): *Starting to openly show her dark side, still just the tip of the iceberg*

Jinwoo: "I feel scared, but that's hot."

These two are going to get more and more fucked up the further we go down this AU. Jinwoo is still in the process of falling, while (Name) is already further ahead than him in that void, she just hid it very well. Funny thing about this is part of their dynamics in the future that I'm aiming for (for now, future subject to change) being like this:

Wife!(Name): "This Jinwoo is my eldritch yandere husband and I LOVE him. I won't change him for any version of him and I'm the only who can handle this him in the multiverse." (and she can, this is not a drill, the Rulers and the World Tree bear witness, she's saying this matter-of-fact and with well-hidden yandere-ish.)

Husband!(Jinwoo): "(Name) is my wife, my only one in the multiverse, and I will tear everything apart if she's taken as much as a step away from me. Don't even try. Can she still scare me? Yes. But she's the only one who can while also makes me horny 'cause it's her, my goddess, and I'm her first and only."

TP AU!Suho: "I love them, won't exchange them for any multiverse version of 'my' parents. But mine are definitely too fucked up."

(Wait until it's your turn, boy. You might be the same or worse than them)

TP AU!Suho: "...Heh?"

(Somewhere in the abyss of my very very ancient drafts, forgotten until I feel like digging them up:

Guide!Reader: *Safe and sound until—* "Achoo!")

TP AU!Suho's younger sister (placeholder name for now): "Hmm? I love my family🦋💀."

TP AU!Cha Hae-in: "Yup, this is my reality alright. As long as my bestie is here, everything will be fine. Kudos to my other versions that married their versions of my second dearest friend Jin and have their versions of my dear nephew as their child tho. Still won't change mine for anything, my number one ship have sailed and I'm not going anywhere as long as they're here."

The ¿System?: *Chilling with the butterflies🦋 and shadows💀 somewhere* 😎🍹 }

That's all, folks!

Feedbacks are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading. 🙏💕

[natalievoncatte]

Kara’s phone skittered across the table, and she looked away from the movie. Alex was with her on the couch and they had a box of cheap rosé and were watching Mean Girls, Alex’s pick. They hadn’t had a sisters night in ages, and Kelly had Esme with her and was visiting James for the weekend; Alex had stayed behind to keep an eye on things with J’onn and Kara.

Kara’s phone was supposed to be off, but she couldn’t help herself. Alex scowled at her as she reached for it.

“Kara,” she muttered, “you deserve a night off.”

“I have it on Do Not Disturb. It’ll only go off if it’s one of my favorites calling.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Knowing you, that’s everyone you know.

“It’s actually just you and Lena,” Kara said, absently.

Alex looked at he enigmatically. There was a knowing in her eyes that made Kara feel a little hot and a little squeezed, paranoid that Alex observed something she had not.

It was a series of texts, not a call.

Kara, can you come over?

Nvm you must be with Alex

But if you do the balcony door is open

It’s not important I just need to see you

Kara bit her lip.

“What did Lena say?”

Kara glanced up. “I didn’t say it was Lena.”

Alex stared at her, and Kara squirmed a little. There as a hint of a smile but a touch of sadness in her eyes, and she let out a little sigh.

“She said it’s not important but she needs to see me.”

Alex sighed. “You should go.”

“She said it’s not important,” said Kara.

“But she said she needs to see you. You won’t be able to relax all night until you know why. You can go. I’m going to crash here, I’m not driving. Go, Kara.”

Kara nodded and stood, wondering why her palms were sweaty. She put on her suit and stepped into the air, making a brisk but calm flight to Lena’s place, making sure not to create any sonic booms.

When she lighted on the balcony it was indeed open. Kara paused and listened, locking on the steady beat of Lena’s heart and breathing. She was in her bedroom.

Passing through the dark penthouse, Kara found Lena in the bed, curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows. She was wearing an oversized hoodie with her hands tucked up in the sleeves and had a box of tissues near her head. When she looked up, Kara realized she was wearing a battered and threadbare Midvale High Mathletes Club sweatshirt that was two sizes too big for her, because it was actually Kara’s.

Kara moved to the side of the bed. “Lena? What’s wrong?”

Lena didn’t meet her gaze. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you at sister night.”

“You should have been at sister night.”

There as a curious look in Lena’s big, soft eyes, at once warm and heartbroken, like she’s both gained and lost in a single moment.

“I couldn’t tonight.”

Kara let her suit dissolve. She was still in her lounge clothes, a pair of baggy sweats and a button-up tank that left her arms bare. She sat down on the bed and leaned towards Lena.

“I’m okay,” Lena said.

She’d been crying, her eyes red rimmed and wet, painful tracks left by tears and her nose raw. Lena rarely let anyone see any kind of vulnerability like this.

“You don’t look okay, Miss Luthor. This looks like a job for Supergirl.”

“I don’t want Supergirl, I want Kara. Can you stay.”

Kara said, “Yes,” without hesitation, and super speed typed a text to Alex, then turned off her phone.

After a brief hesitation, Kara climbed onto Lena’s huge California King bed. There as plenty of room in the middle for them both. Lena lifted the covers and Kara settled in with her.

Carefully, she pushed the hood back, and tucked away a few stray dark curls from Lena’s eyes as she shimmied closer, curling her arm around Lena’s shoulder. Their bodies instinctively fitted together as they had many times before, Lena carefully cradled in Kara’s powerful arms. Kara could feel her quick breaths and the flutter of her heart beneath her ribs. In her embrace, Lena felt delicate and exotic, a treasure to be handled with utmost care.

“Want to talk about it?” said Kara.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yes.”

Kara wasn’t sure how long she laid there or how long Lena clung to her; she didn’t really care. Finally Lena spoke.

“This is the day my mom died.”

Kara let out of a soft “Oh,” and held her just a little tighter, carefully exacting just a touch more pressure until Lena calmed again.

“It’s normally this bad but some years it’s just too much, it’s… it hurts. Why does it hurt so much?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sometimes I still have The Dream.”

Kara tensed, not because Lena didn’t explain, but because Kara knew without being told. Kara had The Dream, too. The only dream that was a Dream, the only nightmare that you can’t wake up from because the waking is the nightmare.

Lena shook her head, and her voice broke something in Kara, shattering it into a thousand pieces that scattered on the crystal floor of the hidden places within her.

“I can’t even remember what she looked like.”

Kara ran her hand softly over Lena’s head and felt fresh tears hot on her neck.

“Lillian took everything from me. Pictures, home movies, all of it. Sometimes I can remember her singing but it’s like I can feel it more than hear it.”

“I remember,” Kara said softly, “when I started thinking in English. I had to. It was the only way I could write without messing up the grammar.”

“Do you remember Krypton?”

“Mostly. It’s hazy. Things from before my powers are like that.”

“Can you… can you tell me about it?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just… I’m trying not to think about how much I want my mom.”

Kara nodded and began telling Lena whatever popped into her head, without rhyme or reason or really meaning to go anywhere with it. She told her about Argo City and excursions to gather mineral samples, about the opera and museums and festivals, about the food and music. She told Lena what it was like to visit other worlds, to stand on the shores of lakes of molten nickel and watch a supernova unfolding.

She barely noticed when Lena fell into a light sleep, curled up in her arms. She clung to Kara, hands fisted into her back at first, then relaxing as she dozed.

Eventually, light peeked around Lena’s blackout curtains. Lena had slept through the night. Kara should probably have withdrawn or gone to make breakfast, but she stayed, enjoying Lena’s scent in Lena’s huge bed, feeling her breathing against her and just feeling this curious relief that she at least knew she was safe, truly safe.

“You’re here,” Lena murmured as she woke up.

“Of course I’m here”, said Kara.

“I like having you here,” Lena mumbled.

“I like having me here.”

Lena sighed. “Are you real? Am I dreaming this too?”

Kara snorted. “Do you dream about me a lot?”

There was a too-long pause before Lena said, “yes.”

“What kind of dreams? Am I badass in them?”

“Something like that.”

Kara smiled. “Want me to grab us breakfast?”

“No.”

Kara’s stomach rumbled, but Lena ignored it. She still had her arms around Kara’s waist and squeezed hard, pulling her close. There was desperation in it. Kara sucked in a sharp breath, even as she returned the embrace.

“Hey,” Kara said softly, “I’m right here, I’m not leaving.”

“Okay.”

Kara swallowed, hard. Lena looked up at her and Kara’s heart did a flip. She was so soft here in the morning light, vulnerable in a way that no one else ever saw. Every fiber of her being screamed at Kara to make it better, protect her, kiss her.

Wait, what?

Kara blinked. Lena was staring at her lips, pupils wide and eyes dark.

There had been a moment like this before. When Kara came back from that awful place, ripped free from its darkness, when it felt like Lena was the whole universe and Kara had been locked in by her gravity, pulled toward a singularity, yanked away from it by her fathers voice as she leaned in…

“I want you to stay,” Lena said, each word a tiny whisper puffed against Kara’s lips.

Kara kissed her.

It wasn’t a Big Damn Kiss. It wasn’t one where the camera spun and the music swelled. It was barely there at all, a faint brushing of lips, an invitation left to wait, breathless, for an answer.

When Lena kissed her back it was slow and passionate but reserved, lips pressed on lips, followed by a tiny tug on Kara’s bottom lip, the signature that competed the message.

Kara moved delicately, leaving a pause with each moment, but Lena offered only invitation.

“Is this okay?” Kara asked.

Lena grasped fistfuls of Kara’s shirt, squeezing so hard that her knuckles went white and her hands trembled.

“Please,” she whispered. “Stay.”

“I’ll never leave,” Kara whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Astarion's s/o giving him a massage that has him making suggestive noises?

-------------------------------🩸-------------------------------

Gale hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep reading until he opened his eyes. It had been a long day of running around the city. Looking for clues on the Bhaal cult. Gathering more information on the Brain and allies to stop it. Saving orphans & kittens out of trees.

He wasn’t sure what woke him, until he heard quite, hushed voices at his back.

“You have to relax, Astarion.”

“I’m trying.” The vampire replied. His voice sounded different. No longer the charming lark, but a little strained and husky. “You’re going too deep, too fast.”

“You said you wanted me to take care of you.” Tav seemed to remind him. Then there was a gurgled groan from Astarion. “Don’t I always take care of you?”

Gale’s face was as red as an apple at this point. Were they really doing that just a few feet from his bed?? Where was everyone else?? Down in the tavern he hoped. Who has sex just mere foot steps away from another person??

“Your fingers are magic.” Astarion groaned.

“Well, they carry literal magic.” Tav chuckled. Mystra’s eye….

“Oh! Oh Gods right there!”

“Don’t tense up on me.” Tav hissed at Astarion. The bed creaking under them.

“I’m trying, it’s just that…mpmh!”

“Alright that’s quite enough! If you two can’t keep it—” Gale’s indignation had reached it’s peak, and he whirled around to confront the lovers about what they were doing ‘in front of him’, only to find Tav fully clothed and sitting across Astarion’s waist. Clearly not doing what he thought they were doing, and his face grew hot again.

“Oh. Gale. I’m sorry. Did we wake you?”

“Sorry old chum. Tav darling was just working out this kink in my back from sleeping on all those rocks. One never realizes how much tension that binds up until they’re in a proper bed again.”

Gale coughed and swung his legs over the side of his own bed. “Yes…well…I appreciate the apology. I think I’m going to head downstairs to the tavern for a night cap.” Then the wizard all but raced to the door to make it downstairs.

“Poor Gale…”

“Poor Gale indeed.” Astarion agreed. “Imagine what he would have done if he could see what your Mage Hands were doing under this blanket.” Tav pursed their lips and pinched at Astarion’s ear lobe. The spell in question fading, perhaps out of spite.

The vampire just grinned over his shoulder. Somehow grabbing Tav and flipping them onto the bed. The blanket over his waist now asunder as he was completely nude with non-nude counterpart. “Alone at last, my love.” He cooed before kissing them.

[unintentionalseductress]

The Office Pet

warnings: MDNI, rough sex, bdsm, treating reader like an animal, name calling, degradation, public humiliation, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, whipping, oral (fem receiving)

"Yes, go ahead and change the meeting to next week," Kento says smoothly, tapping his fingers against the polished wooden surface of his desk. "How fortunate that it worked out for both of us."

"Indeed," says the voice on the line. "I hope we-" The voice pauses as a loud whine is made audible on the call. "Is everything all right?"

"Indeed. No worries, it's just the office pet. She gets whiny when she's not receiving any attention." The blond salaryman says smoothly. "I look forward to our meeting next week." With that, he disconnects the line and turns his attention to you.

"Being a little disobedient today are we?"

You try to keep your desperate sobs to a minimum but it wasn't easy. The sybian Kento had ordered specially for you was vibrating against your clit, the dildo thrusting relentlessly inside you. Ropes bound you to the seat, as you blinked back the tears in your eyes. 

"I believe all I asked was for you to not orgasm until I was done with the call." Kento walks over to you, grinning at the tears in your eyes. A finger slips under the cute collar around your throat and he yanks you forward with sadistic gentleness.

"Mmm....I haven't...holding it...Being...good..." you whimper, trying to hold in your orgasm desperately, feeling your pussy clench around the dildo.

"Aw...have you? I suppose for a cumslut like you...that's impressive." He releases the collar.

"Master...can I please-"

"No." The word is said commandingly and you sob with need. "Please." You try again. "I'm gonna cum...please...need permission-"

"No." Kento reaches out and painfully twists one of your nipples, causing you to cry out from the pain. "You will listen and hold it. What's the point of having a pet if they're not obedient to you?"

As you whimper, muscles quivering from the effort of holding in your orgasm, he grins at you, amusement in his eyes. “I think you need a lesson in remembering what it means to listen and please your master. Perhaps I should show your bad behavior to the office? You should see the other pets…they’re quiet and obey.”

“I can obey…” you say in a progressively shrill voice as the machine continues to torture your pussy, pushing you to a limit that you feel your brain getting fuzzy, a haze of sexual need falling over you. 

“It appears you can’t.” He switches off the machine and you feel the loss on your abused, swollen pussy. He starts to remove the ropes binding you to the seat of the chair and lifts you off easily, dildo sliding from your wet cunt, and sets you down on the floor. 

“On your hands and knees. Perhaps a walk will set you straight.”

Trying not to show any signs of disobedience, you get on all fours. Nanami removes a leash from his desk drawer, which he dangles in front of your face before whipping your ass with one end of it, making you squeal and recoil from him. 

He clicks his tongue as he grabs your hair, keeping you in place. “Stay.” The command is said so seductively in your ear that despite everything, you freeze. “Stay,” he repeats, before whipping you a few more times, his lip curling cruelly at each squeal of pain, your ass turning red with each whip. Once he’s done, he clips the hook of the leash onto your collar, tugging at it.

“Walk,” he says authoritatively, as he opens the door. You crawl on your hands and knees, head bowed, feeling shame that you had disobeyed him like this. He walks you in between the cubicles, the occupants staring at your round ass, jiggling with your movements, your cunt puffy and chafing against your thighs, fluid seeping in between and dripping, leaving little droplets on the floor. Your tits sway as you continue to make your way down the hall. Only company partners were allowed to have pets, so this display to the other employees was a matter of rank and pride.

He walks you to the large office on the other side of the cubicles before knocking on the door and entering.

“Nanamin!” Gojo turns in his chair delightedly. “Have you brought your pet over for a playdate?”

“No playdate today. She’s being taught a lesson.”

“Ooh, been a bad girl huh?” Gojo smirks at you, and you feel yourself get more turned on by the words. 

“Hmm. Being noisy during work calls.”

“Tsk. Too bad. My pet stopped that about two weeks ago. Look at her.” He gestures over to the side of his office where his pet, a lovely woman with russet-colored hair was resting on a few pillows, hips humping against a vibrator. Only quiet hums were heard as she did this, not minding that they had company.

“See? Keeps herself quiet. Cums as much as she wants. Gotta check on her though, because sometimes she needs lube and hurts herself. Isn’t that right sweetheart?” The woman looks up, adoration in her eyes at Gojo and nods, not stopping her humping. 

“Just gotta keep upping her lube. Once she’s done cumming to her satisfaction she sleeps.” 

“Hear that?” Kento asks you, and you dare to look up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Oh don’t give me those eyes sweetheart.” He pets your hair. “I think you’ve learned your lesson after seeing how a good pet should be.” He strokes you down the back of your neck, up the curve of your ass. 

“Although, I must admit Nanamin, I’m surprised with your method. A sybian on such a new pet. I would’ve started with something less intense.”

“My methods are harsher but yield faster results,” Nanami says smoothly. “But perhaps I’ll look into something softer for her. I’m quite fond of her. Thinking about keeping her permanently.” He pats your ass with affection. Gojo whistles at that.

“Really? Getting kinda attached there eh?”

“I think I am. She’s sweet. And her pussy-” he suddenly stuffs two of his fingers into your sore cunt making you gasp loudly, “-has the nicest scent.” He pulls out his fingers, covered with your moisture, and offers it to Gojo for inspection. 

Gojo sniffs and his eyes widen. “That’s some sweet pussy you got there. Very nice. But I like my girl just fine. Cmere baby,” he calls to his pet, who stops her humping and comes over to him on hands and knees. 

“Can I get some attention, my sweet girl?” he croons and the woman puts her head on his lap. Taking that as a cue, Kento leaves Gojo’s office and begins your walk of shame back to his office. People stare at you enviously. 

“They’re jealous because you’re mine.” He says in a low tone only you can hear. “Only I get your sweet cunt and get to make you cum. They’ll get promoted someday, maybe get their own pet. But I have the sweetest little whore all to myself. Remember that.”

Once back in his office, he removes your leash, and the collar, to your surprise. He gently pets the nape of your neck, before picking you up and placing you onto the plushy futon on the floor he had gotten for you in a cute shade of pink, complete with matching pillows. 

“I guess maybe Gojo was right. I could be a little softer on you.” He caresses your face, petting behind your ears and then under your chin. Your eyes close and you purr at the touch, making him chuckle. 

“I do like you. Want to keep you forever. Did you just need some attention back then?” 

You nod eagerly, making him look at you amusedly. “Where did you want my attention? Show me.”

You make an arch with your body, ass up in the air, head lowering to the ground, spreading your legs so that he can see your whole cunt. 

“You greedy girl. Ok, just this time. I’m not rewarding you. You still disobeyed me by whimpering during that phone call. Think of this as testing your abilities. I’m going to make you cum and I expect you to stay quiet as it happens. I will ask the employees sitting outside if they heard you. If even one of them says yes…well…you can imagine how displeased I’ll be.” 

You quickly bite into the corner of the pillow as he licks your leaking hole generously, pushing his tongue into it. “Mhm… You taste so sweet…Might keep you just for this pussy…” His tongue laves upwards, finding your clit, slurping and pulling on it until you saw stars in your vision. All your noises were muffled by the pillow and you try not to grind against him, unsure how he would react, and just whimpered quietly, barely audible. 

Rough hands spread apart your ass cheeks to give more access to your dripping core, lapping up every drop of arousal you produce. After the rough session on the sybian you know you won't last long, and your hips thrust against your will, causing him to pause. 

“Are you close?” 

In a trembling voice, you ask pathetically, “Yes… Can I please cum master… I'll be good…” 

Your labia are so swollen and turning purple from the unreleased tension. Kento gently flicks them, making you twitch before saying, “Yes… Cum…But quietly.”

He focuses his attention on the hard nub and inserts two fingers to find your g-spot, feeling the gummy walls clench around him, practically sucking him in. 

You bury your head onto the cushions, not daring to breathe, smelling your arousal everywhere before orgasm grips you. You bite into the cushion, minimal, strangled whimpers of ecstasy escaping your throat as your cunt explodes with orgasmic pleasure, making you shudder. Kento quickly licks off his fingers before pulling down his pants and boxers, cock hard and throbbing. 

“Quiet,” he reminds you, before pushing into your wet folds. There's no resistance, you'd been so ready for such a long time now, pussy sucking him in and you keep your head buried in the cushions as he fucks you. He groans, teeth gritted. “Such a good little pet…Taking me so quietly… So obediently… are you feeling good?”

With all the concentration you could muster, you say in barely a whisper, “Fills me so good… Meant for my pussy… Fuck me as you please…” 

“I'm going to breed you my little pet… the next time you go on a walk my cum will be leaking from that pretty cunt of yours… And everyone will know what a good little cum dumpster you've been for me… Will know you're full of my seed…”

The thought was an overwhelming turn on and you feel like yourself dangerously close to the edge. “Master…” You whisper. “I’m close…Can I?”

“Not until I'm done. Don't get greedy. You already came once. Wait your turn.” 

You try to distract your mind from the impending orgasm, feeling your belly tighten almost painfully from holding it in. His hips stutter and his movements start to get sloppy as he fucks into you, balls slamming against your ass as you try to control your breath and impulses. His cockhead hits your g spot then brushes your cervix each time, and you can feel your mind starting to lose grip on reality. 

All that mattered was his cock… And him allowing you to cum. 

He growls as he orgasms, his hot seed coating your walls, cock pulsating inside you. 

“Well what are you waiting for?” he asks as he continues to thrust in you. “I thought you said you wanted to cum.”

With the hardest effort you’ve ever had to exert in your life, you cum a second time, a barely perceptible sobbing gasp escaping your throat, tears coating your face as you control the need to shout, your overstimulated cunt spasming so intensely, you thought you’d collapse. 

“Good girl…so good…barely made any sound.” He pulls out, his seed dripping from your abused hole. His thick fingers squeeze the edges of your lips, making it drip more, before pushing it back in with a finger making you squirm. 

“Let’s take another walk. I want everyone to know what a good pet smells like after she’s been rewarded.”

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[shouyuus]

chapter two: tell no tales

roronoa zoro; 3,029 words; fluff and angst, enemies to lovers, slowburn, depressed!zoro, ship therapist!nami, dick!zoro bc he cannot process emotions, no "y/n", trauma bonding

summary: in which zoro starts to believe in ghosts

a/n: hi from the new blog friends! yes, i know it's a little confusing, but please bear with me !! this series is indeed moving to here to the new blog, but the masterlist will live on my old blog till i've got all the links up, and i can reblog onto the new one.

< to the table of contents

The following hours are a blur of bodies and color, the setting sun bleeding out over the distant sky, the tiny island retreating in the distance as the Merry jolts along the choppy waves. Nami’s hand, Luffy’s arm, Usopp offering to take his midnight watch, Sanji pressing a bottle of something and a tray of riceballs into his hands.

Zoro drinks. And drinks. And drinks.

He drinks until the earth sways beneath him in ways he’s certain isn’t just the rocking of the ship. He drinks until the sky pivots above him, seeping into the darkness of his little corner room. He drinks, and he sleeps.

And he dreams of you.

In his dreams, you’re vibrant and laughing, your cheeks full of color, your lips brushed in reds or pinks or purples. You offer him a freshly made mochi, your fingertips dusted in rice flour. He reaches out for it but just before he can take it, the tiny little sweet splits open to reveal a raw, bleeding heart.

Blood trickles between your fingertips, slicking down your arm like pomegranate juice.

Zoro looks up to find you smiling, but there’s blood oozing down the sides of your face, collecting in the dip of your collarbones from a massive gunshot wound to the side of your head.

You cock your head, offering him the bloodied mochi.

“C’mon, take it! Everyone else got one!”

He jerks awake to a quiet knock at his door and Sanji’s muffled voice from the other side.

“Breakfast, mosshead. Made your favorites — grilled mackerel and miso soup and rice. I’ll uh — keep it warm for ya, but not for long, okay?”

Zoro swallows passed the dryness in his throat, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his face, shielding himself from the bright orange light seeping in from the little window in the corner. After a few more minutes, he swings himself out of bed, dragging his swords with him down the hallway into the kitchen.

Everyone is there, gathered around the hanging table, talking in whispered tones. They all go quiet when Zoro rounds the door, and Usopp clears his throat, leaning back with a forced lightness.

“Seems like we’ll be hitting the next island soon!” he says, eyes darting towards Nami, who sighs and nods.

“Yeah, it’s only a few more days till we get to the next island,” she says, glancing back down at her hands, “then it’s straight up into the Grand Line.”

Zoro nods, dropping into one of the empty seats and pulling the only fully set tray of food towards him. He stares at the carefully arranged items — the fish grilled to skin-crisp perfection, the miso soup still hot enough to steam, the rice fluffy and sweet.

He picks up his chopsticks.

“Good,” he says, his voice too soft, “the faster we get there… the better.”

It’s strange, how Zoro’s never before believed in ghosts. But now, he sees the shadow of you in everything he does. In the swift swish of his swords through the air, in the flutter of wind in the Merry’s sails, in the rhythmic creak of the planks of the main deck.

He thinks of you, of the sadness that had flickered in your eyes the second before Crocodile (or Mr. 0 as he’s known in Baroque Works; they’d since figured out his name and his ranking, but not much else) pressed the gun to your head and pulled the trigger.

He finds himself reliving the moment, sinking into the infinitesimal space between the breath and the gunshot; he searches it as if there might have been clues tucked in the way your throat had caught or the specific way your lashes had fluttered. He thinks, at least, you hadn’t looked scared.

And maybe, that in and of itself is the mercy.

— — —

He sees you again in Mag Mell, a tiny jewel box island tucked along the edges of Paradise. It’s an island of dreamers, of poets and painters, musicians and mystics, with wending streets papered in silver dust, and houses painted in dessert-bright colors, with pearl-gilded roofs, and golden-tipped steeples hung with glittering crystal bells that tolled by the passing hours.

People here sang easily and laughed freely, and it’s all Zoro can do not to look for you around the bend of every street corner, to jolt at every single peal of bright, unabashed laughter.

You would’ve been so happy here — at least the you from his childhood memories. Guilt claws at his insides. He should’ve done more — should’ve tried harder to save you —

So when he does catch glimpse of you, the you that’s been haunting all his all sleepless nights, he isn’t sure if he’s actually dreaming. But how could he be? They’d just docked hours ago — with Sanji and Usopp off shopping for groceries, and Luffy plowing through the market for food, Nami doing… whatever Nami does in cities like these.

At first, he thinks its his eyes playing tricks — his subconscious toying with him in this place that seems so cruelly perfect for the you of his memory, as if his dreams hadn’t been ruthless enough. But then, he hears your voice, and he’s sure it’s you.

He follows you down one twisting alley, and then another, the streets folding over one another like tributaries to a mother stream. Around the third bend, he loses you, and for a frantic moment, he finds himself spinning around himself once, twice, until a thin pair of arms slams him up against the far wall, painted a deep mahogany red.

“What part of don’t follow me are you not understanding?” your voice is nothing more than a hissed breath, tight and angry and pleading, but it’s yours.

The next moment, Zoro has you flipped, pinning you to the opposite wall, this time in a blinding turquoise, his teeth bared, a sword poised at your throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, forcing out the words, his heart a wild, untamed thing beating in his chest, hard enough to sting. His eyes are too wide, searching your face desperately as if looking for a sign, a slip-up that might prove you’re not who you look like you are, and yet —

The wry way your lip twists up has his stomach roiling within him. You stop struggling, tilting your head to look at him in the gather of shadows of the deserted alley.

“What? Forgotten me already? And here I thought dying in front of you would make more of a lasting impression —”

“Exactly,” Zoro bites back, unable to stop his sword from digging into the skin of your neck, a thin line of blood seeping out from beneath your otherwise unmarred skin, “I saw — I watched you —” his throat seizes forcibly over the word die and he struggles for a few seconds before he jerks back, “I watched you get shot.”

You rub at your throat with a ginger hand, drawing it away to stare at the rub of red there, your expression inscrutable.

“Yeah… that you did.”

He whips his sword out to the side before slipping it into its sheath with a dull shink.

You eye it warily, the late afternoon sun creeping into the alley inch by golden inch. It kisses at your toes and creeps up your ankles as you stare at the sword at Zoro’s side.

“That was Kuina’s, wasn’t it?” you ask.

The name slams into Zoro like a gut-punch, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from stumbling.

“So what if it is?” he asks, a quaver to his voice that he almost doesn’t recognize. He turns away from you to stare at the strip of street visible from the darkened alley. A little girl with twin pigtails skips by holding a fistful of multicolored balloons, giggling as a boy races after her, trying to steal one.

“Can’t believe you still have it after all these years.”

“Yeah, well. Call me sentimental,” but his voice is flat, almost sardonic as he turns back to stare at you.

You allow him a helpless grin, “You always were more sentimental than you’d let on. Even when we were kids.”

“You died,” he spits the word out like poison, and you flinch, almost as if struck by it. He takes a deep, steadying breath but makes no move to back down as he asks, “so how the hell are you still here?”

You press your lips, casting your eyes away, your head lowered.

“You’re on a crew with a guy made of rubber — can’t you figure it out?” you ask, rueful and quiet.

Zoro scoffs, “So far as I know, there ain’t no Devil Fruits that can make you immortal.”

You wince again, though when you do speak, there’s a weary humor tacked to the ends of your words.

“You were always smarter than you let on too,” you say, finally looking up, “you’re right. It’s not a Devil Fruit.”

Zoro frowns, unable to keep the intrigue from bubbling up his chest as he watches you.

“Then…” he trails off, waiting.

A golden shaft of sun slants fully into the alley now, finally high enough to hit the side of your face, casting your features into stark relief. Like this, he can see the hollows of your cheeks, the blueness in your lips. But also, the flicker of light that once danced like fireworks behind your eyes.

“It was a deal,” you say, as the sun shifts behind a soft gauzy cloud, tossing the island into a momentary shadow once more, and your face is again shrouded in darkness, “with the Devil himself.”

— — —

“So… you can’t die,” Sanji says, stubbing out what must be his fifth cigarette since the beginning of the conversation.

A half-finished dinner service lays in an array of dishes before you, but even Luffy isn’t reaching out to pick at the remains.

You shake your head, “No, that’s the thing — I can. I just don’t tend to stay dead.”

Nami frowns, “But how does that even work? You get killed, and what — you just… respawn?”

You sigh, letting out a tired laugh, “Something like that. I die, and I wake up the next morning exactly in the last place I went to sleep.”

“Whoa, weird,” says Luffy, finally reaching for the remains of a whole roast chicken, stuffing a drumstick into his mouth.

You nod, “Very.”

Usopp is chewing on his bottom lips, looking concerned, “But… I mean — when you do d-die… does it still hurt?”

You slowly pivot to stare at him, your expression carefully neutral.

Beside you, Zoro shifts slightly, and everyone goes strangely still as they wait for your answer.

“Sometimes,” you say, carefully, “if the person killing me decides to make it hurt.”

Sanji leans back, staring up at the broad canopy of stars above the deck of the Merry.

The silence that stretches over the table is fraught with implication. Eventually, you let out a long breath, leaning back in your chair.

“But you get used to it after a while,” you say, the shadow of a smile quirking your lips.

Zoro narrows his eyes, “You make it sound easy.”

His voice is hard, his gaze fixed on a point just over Luffy’s shoulder. Beneath the low dip of his unbuttoned shirt, you can still see the remains of the scar Mihawk had left him with. No doubt he was remembering his own close tangle with death.

You lilt your head and roll your shoulders.

“What they don’t tell you about dying is that it’s the easiest thing… but easy doesn’t mean painless,” your voice is light and airy and painfully frivolous, “eventually, easy just means that at least… you know it’ll end.”

Across the table, Sanji lets out a breath as Nami gasps. Luffy purses his lips.

“But… as long as you fall asleep in a safe place, then even if you die, you’ll just wake up there again, right?” he asks.

You fix him with a look, before letting out a helpless laugh.

“Yeah, something like that. The only thing is — when you’re working for the big-bads, they tend to make sure you only ever fall asleep somewhere they can get their hands back on you.”

“But you’re with us now!” Luffy grins, puffing out his chest, “so we’ll make sure you stay alive without having to uh — die first. Good?”

Others might only see childish innocence in his words, but you can see the absolute certainty he evokes in the rest of his crew. And that, more than anything else, makes you believe him.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah, okay.”

Zoro grunts as he gets up from the table, stalking off without another word. Nami sighs, watching him go before rolling her eyes and going after him.

Sanji strikes a match and lights up a new cigarette.

“Let him be. He was real beat up after seeing you —” Sanji dips his head, “well, you know. And he’s not what you’d call super in touch with his emotions, I think.”

He shoots you a good-natured wink.

You laugh, a tired, rubbed-raw sound, nodding.

“Yeah. I know.”

Sanji taps off a bit of ash and leans forward, “So — what’s the story?”

“What makes you think there’s a story?”

Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings before reaching over to refill your glass, “Mosshead’s not exactly known for makin’ friends wherever he goes, if you know what I mean,” he slides you smile before continuing, “so if he’s this —” Sanji pauses to cast about for a proper word, “attached… to someone, I figured there’s just gotta be a story, right love?”

You sigh, nodding as you take a long sip of your drink, savoring the coolness as it slides down your throat.

“You’re right… there is a story. But I’m not sure it matters much anymore. We’re both…” you look down at your hands, pale and pink in the fading firelight, “not the kids we used to be.”

Sanji shrugs, “Neither is any of us,” he coaxes, voice gentle, “but that doesn’t mean the kids that we were don’t matter any more.”

You nod, finally allowing the warmth of the fire to wash over you as you sit back in your chair.

“Alright then — it was a long time ago but… we grew up in the same village…”

— — —

“Hey — where’re you going?” Nami catches up with Zoro just beneath the main deck, the hallway scattered with pinpricks of light, seeping in through the cracks in the planks above.

Zoro spins around, his shoulders hunched.

“To be alone.”

Nami sighs, stopping a few steps short of him.

“What’s with you? Aren’t you happy that your — your friend is alive?”

Zoro bears down on Nami, his eyes flashing.

“I don’t trust her — what if it’s not her? What if it’s a —” he waves a hand through the thickening darkness between them, “an imposter?”

Nami’s eyebrows kick up, “What, finally get your hands on a dictionary in Mag Mell?”

“Fuck you.”

Nami laughs, folding her arms as she leans up against the darkened hallway wall.

“Fine, you don’t trust her — but what else can we do? Leave her here for Crocodile and the rest of Baroque Works to catch up to her?”

Zoro tsks, turning around to pace the length of the hallway, every muscle in his body feeling tight and wrung out.

“Wouldn’t matter much — she can’t die remember?”

“Yes, she can,” Nami says, her words harsh enough to stun Zoro still. She stalks up to him, her eyes blazing in the imminent dark. “You’ve almost died once — tell me, was it a pleasant experience?”

A muscle ticks in Zoro’s jaw, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut.

He remembers it in pieces, in fever-break moments and mind-numbing delusions. He remembers the bone-deep ache that had seemed to permeate every inch of his body, of the dull pounding in his head as he tried to piece together what his crewmates were saying to him, sitting by his bedside. He’d known they were there, but he’d couldn’t let them know, couldn’t force him limbs to move the way he wanted.

It had been nothing short of agony.

“Look, I’m not asking you to trust her but at least think — think about the life she would’ve led in Baroque Works. What they might’ve made her do if they knew that every time she died, she’d just wake up in the last place she fell asleep.”

Like this, Nami’s voice is soft, almost silken. A spate of unease slithers down Zoro’s spine.

Zoro stares down at her. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d regarded Nami with the same kind of vague distrust.

“Think for a second, about the suicide missions they would’ve made her take.”

Those words ring through Zoro like a death knell, and he takes half a step back, his head spinning with the implications. She’s right, he hadn’t thought of the life you’d led; he’d been so caught up on the vast dissonance between the person you were and the person you'd become. He’d been so tangled in his own feelings of shame and anger that he hadn’t paused to think.

Nami sighs and takes a few more steps back.

“I mean. You heard her — just because dying is easy, that doesn’t make it painless.”

“I just —” Zoro closes his eyes, letting a clenched fist thump softly against the wall beside him. A terrible, hot prickling sensation is working its way up the back of his throat, constricting his airways. He swallows hard around it before turning to look at Nami once more.

“I just can’t stand the thought of losing her again.”

Nami lets out a breathy laugh, bobbing her head once. There’s still a steely light to her eyes, but her voice when she finally does speak is soft —

“Then make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, what are those three swords for anyway?”

TAGLIST: @brairslair @msheds0519 @yunabelless @lynndt-chocolate @lostonthrillerbark @stunies @tsumu-senpai @phroggii @ssailormoonnn @breathinginyoursmoke @guridoodles @kyllium @naomihatake @itoshiexx @mythicallystupid @mars-mizuko @astroniii @crispynutella @enhastolemyheart @fanficwriter101 @jamesbparker @dira333 @weirdowithaphone @ink-perfect @lodeddiperrodrick @not-a-glad-gladiator @vinskypuff @itsagoodluckkiss @blondethinkpink @ellelowthere @annievrse @m333myselfandiii @tsubaki3192 @grapelover2000 @teewon @keigoskrio @ggyuslovie @manuosorioh @one17 @monkey-d-hoshizora98 — pls comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series!

[douqhnxtss]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MY GIRL, MY GIRL, MY GIRL ✧˖°.⋆.˚⊹ ࣪ ˖

𝓛𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝘢𝘧𝘢𝘳. 𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚. 𝓣𝒁𝑼𝒀𝑼 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗍, 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝓨𝑶𝑼, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌. 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋; 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.

✧ fluff, domestic, drabble, down bad!tzuyu, lots of blushing and giggling and love, not much just two lovers basking in eachothers love and presence, proofread — girlfriend!tzuyu × fem!reader ⋆ wc! 0.61k 𐙚𐙚 pls make do w this tzuyu drabble while I slowly work on redamancy.. soz I'll try my best to get it pit this week and also, I love tzuyu so much, write this for ml @y0ziimisii the tzuyu to my sana hope you like it >_< love ya<33

✧ now playing! — we fell in love in october ♪ girl in red 𐙚

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

THE ESSENCE OF LOVE FLOWED WITH THE SOFT BREEZE. you circled your arm around hers, interwining your fingers in the process. your head rested on tzuyu's shoulder.

"best first anniversary date ever." you said with a soft smile, tilting your head up to look at the taller. she looked at you, her lips parted like she was about to talk.

tzuyu's eyes followed every bump and crevice on your face, your eyes, nose, lips, brows, everything. you let out a little giggle, a soft blush presenting itself on your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"do i look that pretty?" you asked softly, your teeth holding your bottom lip hostage. her other hand reached up to your face as her thumb gently pulled your lip out of its hold under your teeth.

"you.. you look mind numbingly gorgeous, love." tzuyu whispered in a hushed tone, her lips curving into a lovesick smile. no matter how many times she'd addressed you with the nickname, you never failed to blush.

"thank you, you look beautiful too, tzu." you complimented the taiwanese, her crimson cheeks were harder to see but her ears covered in red gave her away. she looked away for a second before her gaze locked with yours once again.

"thank you so much." she whispered, giving your hand a little squeeze making your heart race. speaking of your heart, it was content. having spent a whole day with the person it cherished most, it couldn't have wished for anything more.

a few minutes passed, you looked away, overwhelmed by her loving gaze. you chose to look at the stars and moon, the only shining objects in the dark canvas that was the night sky.

she didn't look away though, eyes looking at you as if she was carving every detail about you in her mind, "you didn't say you're welcome for the date." you gave her a glance.

she just hummed, realizing she did indeed overlook the statement, "oh, yes. you're welcome, i couldn't be happier." you couldn't help but blush even more, her mere presence was enough to make your stomach do backflips.

"why do you always admire me, even when we're beside eachother?" you asked, looking at her teasingly, tilting your head. tzuyu looked at you for a second too long with her eyes which were drunk in love before she responded.

"you've got me lovestruck, my love. you're also too beautiful and too mine to not be admired by me." your heart skipped a few beats, eyes widening a fraction. you swiped your tongue your bottom lip, "you're... so good at getting me flustered."

she let out a soft giggle. she leaned in to give you a short and sweet kiss before pulling away. tzuyu's grip on your intertwined hand tightened slightly, not enough to hurt you and just enough to give you a reassurance that she's there and grasp your attention at the same time.

you turned to look at her. tzuyu chuckled and began, "obviously i'll be good at getting my girl flustered." she brought your hand up to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt but it didn't matter. all that mattered in the moment was you two and your love for eachother. the world seemed to have shrunk down into just the two of you, time also felt like it had been slowed down, giving you two a chance to just be happy for the stretching night with eachother.

"i love you, tzu." you connected your forehead with hers, never leaving her hand, keeping them intertwined. she pecked you sweetly before whispering, "i love you too and always will, my girl."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᯓ✦ 𝓊𝗻𝚒𝘷𝐞𝗋𝓢𝙚 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ regulars! @woniefication @shyoko

Douqhnxtss © 23042025 — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. do not edit, translate, repost or plagiarize any of my work !

[mommageto]

Domestic Hashira Part 4 (Himejima x Reader)

Title: Domestic Hashira Part 4 (Himejima x Reader)

Word Count: 2441 words

Description: (Y/n) and Gyomei navigating the unfamiliar territory of an arranged marriage. 

Warning/s: This story contains sexual content that may not be suitable for some readers, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

Part 3

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Days with Himejima felt better after you both had a conversation about your true feelings with one another. The weight on your chest felt lighter, and the days have gone sweeter since then. Himejima's gentle nature and unwavering support have created a haven for your love to flourish. You felt as if every day with him was a precious gift, a reminder of the beauty that can only be found in sincere human connection.

The stone hashira was invited to a festival in a busy neighboring village by the mayor, as Himejima was known to have defeated a demon that attacked their village. As his promise, Himejima asked you to accompany him to this festival. You could not be more thrilled to enjoy this festival with him. This will be your first trip together, and you are looking forward to the sweet and intimate moments you will share with your beloved husband. 

You carefully adjusted the position of the kanzashi Himejima had given you, ensuring your hair looked neat and elegant. This night had to be perfect, and you wanted to look your best as you were clothed in a beautiful embellished kimono. There is a mild feeling of nervousness in your heart. Not for anything negative, but you were not sure about today–you were hoping nothing terrible would happen to ruin your perfect night with Gyomei. 

You stepped out of the changing era to be greeted by your seven-foot-two husband standing firm with an olive kimono. He looked more attractive in your eyes than he was. The sight of him formed a curve on your lips. Hurriedly, you walked towards him and hugged his form. "My darling, you look so handsome," you told Gyomei.

As your body was pressed onto Himejima, you could feel his large hand rub your hair. You looked up to him to see him smile. His hand moved to feel your kimono; there, he tried to use his sense of touch to get a visualization of how you were clothed. Thus, his hands moved up to your cheeks, feeling the details of your face. He pulls you to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

"You're beautiful, (y/n)," You knew that Gyomei was blind and could only rely on his other senses, but he did not lie when he muttered those words to you. "How would you know? I'm starting to think you're just secretly pretending to be blind," you said, and you both let out a chuckle.  

"You're the most beautiful woman in here. I know that." Himejima confidently said it with a smile on his lips. This caused your heart to flutter, and your cheeks turned red. Gyomei really knows what to say every time. 

Both of you enjoyed touring the village by buying some souvenirs, playing some games, and eating the food the festival has to offer. In the middle of it, Gyomei noticed how you felt a little tired from the whole night. It was a long night, indeed. Although you wanted to wait for the fireworks show, you could feel yourself wanting to rest and sit down already. 

"(Y/n), are you okay?" he asks you. 

"I'm just a little tired from the walk. Can we rest for a while?" you replied.

The two of you went back to the inn for you to rest. The place was clean and spacious. You were hoping for the fireworks show, but it's still too early for that. Thus, the place was crowded as there were plenty of people at the festival. You rested with your husband, and you checked out the little trinkets you got. 

"Do you like them?" he'd ask, his voice gentle. 

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. "Yes. This is the one you got me," you replied, then reached out to him for a kiss on his lips.

"You barely give me kisses anymore," you mentioned jokingly to tease him. He was taken aback and was silent for a short while. You decided to be truthful and confront him with that, as you missed your husband's physical touch. "Gyomei, it’s okay. We've settled that already." 

Gyomei's face, usually serene and calm, would show a sight of pain. His silence would be filled with a heavy, almost palpable, weight. "That night changed me. As a pillar, I'm sworn to protect the weak and innocent. I cannot bear the thought of touching you when I'm afraid that I would only give you more pain." He would pause, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His voice would tremble slightly.

The love you feel for Himejima is beyond the stars. Your head falls onto Himejima's shoulders to let him know you were there for him and share the pain he felt. The stone hashira felt relieved by your act. He, too, loves you wholeheartedly. Though he has had some traumas in the past, you've also learned to become patient with him through difficult times. 

Thus, without hesitation, you planted a kiss on his cheeks. "Huh. That didn't feel scary at all." you teased him again to assure him that it was okay. This caused your husband to feel more comfortable in intimate moments. Slowly, building trust between the two of you. "Not even a bit painful–more likely sweet," you continued.

You could feel his warm, calloused hand—-Himejima held your face and wiped your cheek, feeling the detail of your right face. "I'll kiss you here." Without haste, he leaned onto your forehead and kissed you. "And here," He continued, kissing your cheeks, one after another. Thus, kiss your face all over. A slight pause to feel the moment of tension between you was getting heavy. You've always loved moments like this with him; it's so intimate, and it makes you explore more of your relationship with your husband. Thus, you never would have thought that your husband would be a man like this. 

Your first impression of Himejima based on his physical appearance was different from who he is right now. Given his colossal form, you would've guessed that he's a very traditional stoic man, especially with his religious background. However, you are glad you were wrong with your first impression, as Himejima is the sweetest and gentlest giant there. 

Then, you both gave in and let the moment happen. You could feel Gyomei's wet lips pressed onto yours heavily. His short kisses were good, but his long kisses were better. It does not feel fast or aggressive. Instead, it felt like he was taking his time. He lightly bit your lower lip in the middle of your make-out session. 

Gyomei pulled back from your ardent kissing. You took the opportunity to catch your breath. In your mind, this was the end of your intimate session with him. Though, you felt Gyomei plant a kiss on your jaw going down to your neck. This gave your skin shivers and butterflies on your stomach. 

He continued kissing you down to your neck to your chest, which made you caught off guard. "Gyomei, don't hold back," you whispered. The gentle giant heard you and followed your command. He did not stop his act and moved your shoulders down to the tip of your fingers. He then went back to attack your neck by licking a part of it and lightly biting your flesh. This caused you to release a soft moan. 

You felt embarrassed by that, as you didn't know that something like that could come out of your mouth. You covered your mouth to cover up the embarrassment. However, this encouraged Himejima to pleasure you more. His hand can be felt through your knees up to your thighs. Thus, you felt him pull away from your neck and move down on your thighs.

"G-gyomei—"You clearly felt his wet lips bite a part of your inner thigh. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you as Himejima's lips trailed down your thigh. His kisses reached down to your thighs, which caused you to be more nervous than you were feeling already. His lips trailed your legs from your knee up to the innermost corner of your thigh, which caused you to shake a little. Then, you felt Himejima pull away and move up from your stomach to plant kisses on your chest. 

His touch was gentle yet firm, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but moan softly, your body reacting involuntarily to his pleasure.

Himejima paused and slowly removed your garment, revealing your chest area. You can feel the heat of your body getting warmer. He leaned in and kissed your bare chest, his lips brushing against your sensitive skin. You closed your eyes, lost in the moment. His mouth met your nipples, sucking it and nibbling it gently. "Gyomei," You moaned as you could feel the wetness of that area from his mouth. 

He removed his mouth from your breast and reached out to your forehead to plant a kiss there, only for him to move to the lower part of your body. As Himejima continued his exploration, your body began to tremble with anticipation. You can feel him move away from your robe for him to access your lower area, and his breath can be felt on your most precious part.  

You felt a sense of surrender, letting him take control. This made your body give in to him even more. His touch was so intimate, so personal. As he deepened his work on your lower body, your senses heightened, the world narrowing to the intensity of the moment. With such haste, your fingers covered your lady parts as you felt Himejima breathe.  

The gentle giant paused for a while and moved his head away between your legs. He gently grabbed your hand and placed it beside his cheek. "I want to feel you everywhere," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. You are clueless about the fact that you asked Gyomei not to hold himself back, but his confidence in examining your whole body has made you feel self-conscious. His words enabled you to give in and allowed him to continue with his act. 

He explored your lower area entirely, not leaving any surface of your skin untouched. Himejima's lips trailed a fiery path down your private parts, each brush igniting a shiver of anticipation. You surrendered utterly, lost in the intoxicating swirl of passion and tenderness. 

Himejima leans in after moving away from your lower body, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll use my fingers now." He speaks, informing you politely of the next act he is going to do to you. You felt his rough and thick fingers insert inside your precious parts slowly. With a tender touch, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

You bit his lip in the middle of your passionate kiss and paused for a moment. You have never felt something like this before. Himejima's two fingers were enough to stretch you out and make you feel things differently for the first time. He continued moving his fingers swiftly until you pulled away from his lips and held his arm since you felt a knot coming from your stomach. A sudden, sharp pleasure shot through you, and you pulled away, breathless. A slight, involuntary sound escaped your lips as a warm liquid pooled between your thighs. Mortified, you covered your face, your heart pounding in your chest. 

The stone hashira positioned himself on top of you after you were catching your breath after the intense feeling of reaching your climax for the first time. You can feel Himejima's hands aligning his member to insert himself inside your womanhood. You can feel the tip of his member, and you know that there is a vast size difference between the two of you. However, despite your size difference with your husband, you trust him as you know how much of a gentle giant he is. You felt safe in his care, nevertheless. 

The stinging pain from the size of his manhood lingered, however, a wave of pleasure took over as Gyomei added more force in each thrust. There, you could not hold back your loud moans with each force he exerts onto you. You know well how Himejima could exert a much more stronger force to thrusts, but holds himself back as he is careful when it comes to situations like this. You were far too delicate for him to simply use much more of his strength.

As the giant man became faster, your nails dug deep into his muscular shoulders, holding onto him tightly. You have reached your peak and you felt like you were going to pass out from the feeling of your husband pounding onto you. In a glimpse of an eye, you felt one final hard thrust from him as he pulled out. 

Finally, Himejima pulled away, his breath heavy. You were still reeling from the intensity, the feeling of slumber amounting from the pleasure you felt. Without hesitation, he quickly grabbed a towel having hesitated at the last moment about releasing inside you. A blush crept up your neck as you instinctively closed your legs to hide your pulsating core and cover your chest. 

Afterwards, he gently covered you with his robe, sensing how vulnerable you felt as you were still exposed. “(Y/n), may I?” he asked softly, holding up a clean cloth. You hummed in response, your eyes still closed. Himejima carefully cleaned you, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Are you alright, (Y/n)?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

“No,” you muttered, staring at your husband’s stoic face. His hand stopped and he panicked after hearing your response. “Did I do anything wrong? Were you hurt?” 

“No, silly. I just wanted to get a reaction from you. You looked so serious,” you chuckled. The tension visibly eased from the stone hashira’s shoulders, though his concern still lingered. “I feel astonished…but I’ll forever cherish our first time together, Gyomei.”

A curve formed up his lips, he felt more at ease this time. “I’m glad you feel that way. I just wanted to make sure it was good for you,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I love making love with you, (y/n).” You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. As you lay there together, a sense of peace washed over you.  Under the soft glow of moonlight casting an ethereal glow upon you as you shared this moment with Gyomei. With enough trust and vulnerability from one another, this intimacy was your first time as a couple where both of you gave in to each other’s pleasure.

This story will have a Part 5.  

[angel-of-the-moons]

The Bird and The Worm

Steven Grant x Shy!Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None really, some fluff. Overprotective Birb Dad Khonshu, activate!

A/N: Alright since y'all loved this post so much I had to do something with it, and given that it's Valentine's Day and I am, as usual, chronically single, I figured I would share the delulu with our sweet little nerd. It's short, I know. But my chest is hurting and I am thinking of going to the ER later lol (I also recommend listening to Owl City's "The Bird and The Worm" it's a cute song!)

You had been in a very good mood, today, Khonshu had noticed. Humming to yourself, giggling a bit louder than usual at something on your phone. He watched as you practically bounced around your flat.

"I take it something has happened, little bird?" Khonshu hummed, a humored scoff coming from his chest. You continued to buzz around, even reaching for your seldomly-used makeup kit you only used for special work parties or for fun--and the latter was rare.

He leaned against the wall, to remain out of your way, amusement tickling something deep within him. Indeed, you were like a busy little bee, buzzing around her hive.

"Oh!" You finally chirp out a response, beaming happily up at him. "I... Um... Well, I um, got a date!"

That surprised him.

You were a wallflower; a shy, little thing that had beautiful and bright colors that stood out; especially amongst his dwindling followers. Not keen on being the center of attention, you preferred to dance on the coattails of most social situations.

And you had never been out on a date before, let alone asked out by anyone.

"And who is your date?" Khonshu asked, tipping his head to the side as you began to apply your facial primer. Makeup trends definitely changed from how they used to do them back in his day...

"Oh, he's so sweet! Some guy knocked into me while I was out today; knocked my smoothie all over the floor and didn't even apologize." You huff, recalling that rude dude, "Then he showed up and snapped at him! He even paid for me to get a new one, even though I said he didn't have to..."

You remembered how heartbroken you felt--you had been looking forward to your favorite smoothie all day. Work sucked and those little pick-me-ups always boosted your mood and energy when you needed them.

"And after that we sat down and started talking--we have a lot in common." You giggled, carefully dripping foundation on your face before beginning to blend it. "He seemed hesitant at first, when he asked me out, tonight... But he finally got all the words out and, well, I d'nno... It felt right to finally say yes to someone?"

"Hmm." He hummed, thinking hard. You didn't normally warm up to people, and to see you so excited for something... he was happy for you. His shy little bird opening up her wings a little.

"And you are not concerned this man was putting up a front?" He asked dubiously, his own mind drawing conclusions.

"...No. I really didn't get that vibe from him." You replied thoughtfully, looking down at your bronzers and highlighters; trying to think of what kind of look you wanted to go for. Something to match your little turtleneck dress, surely. And well, it was Valentine's Day, so.... You went with some neutral shades. Blush was light and pink; your eyeshadows a mix of red and pink, too.

"...I see." Khonshu murmured, his head tipping to the other side.

"But we're going to meet up for dinner tonight. I hope it all goes well..." Your voice had fallen a little bit; the melancholy tone slipping into your voice a little saddening. You had spent many of these holidays alone--never having anyone to spend them with.

So... Well. There was no harm in letting you have this date, letting you go out and try to have fun with this mystery man of yours.

But you were downright silly to think Khonshu would just up and let you go to an undisclosed location without him shadowing you to make sure your were safe.

He had intended to follow you to make sure your date was what you had claimed he was--not some secret serial killer or someone who had a history of some form of violence towards another person.

But this... was so much worse.

Oh, he was steaming.

Fuming, toxic--an inferno of rage and disgust when he sat down with you at your little table.

The setting was a little roo intimate for his tastes; warm, soft candlelight, round-table booths where two could sit undeniably closer than most would deem normal--tucked in the back where few prying eyes would see.

Well. Save for him, anyways.

But what made him the most angry wasn't even how close you two were sitting; or even how he made you laugh.

It was the fact your date was Steven-fucking-Grant. The biggest thorn in his side since Marc had begun work under him as his Avatar. Even bigger than Marc's challenging and anti-authoritative attitude towards his will.

He was glad the man was no threat, but he hated the fact that naturally, your shy and quiet-natured soul had been drawn to Steven. The man was, by his own tally, a whiney, soft-hearted little cretin.

Always looking on the verge of a panic attack or a sobbing fit, his very soul radiated something that pissed Khonshu off.

And so... Khonshu decided that he could not let this be. Not his little bird. Not on his watch.

You needed to be kept safe--and being involved with Steven or any of the others meant you could be put in harm's way. Even moreso just than being a follower of his.

At least worshipping him can be done in private. Here you are, in public, with the worm. Instead of devouring him, like a bird should, you commiserated and laughed with him.

And so, he spent the rest of the evening trying to ruin your date; if only to keep you safe. Yes, yes. He had to keep you safe. And away from Steven. Especially Steven.

...Mostly Steven.

When Steven held out the little flower he'd gotten for you, Khonshu made the candle flame flare up and catch the head on fire--making the both of you panic just for him to dunk it in the pitcher of water at your table.

But all that did was make you worry, taking his hands to check them over for burns, handing your napkin from your lap to dry his hands.

He spilled the glass of wine on Steven's crisp and neatly-pressed shirt. All that did was make you giggle at Steven's apology for being "clumsy", and you leaned over with some napkins to try and dab away the red stain on the fabric.

The waiter had dropped your food order, spilling your pasta in your own lap and covering your legs with the sauce and noodles. (Oh, he felt bad for that one.)

But once again, fate was conspiring against him. Steven had all but tripped over himself in an effort to try and flag down the staff for a towel to help clean you off (but maintaining a respectful touch as he did so).

At all the "funny" coincidences of the evening, Steven managed to convince you to let him walk you home.

Khonshu had had enough.

He pushed Steven into a dirty puddle in the sidewalk, splattering your nice shoes with grime and muck, his curls plastered to his head with gross water as he was left sputtering in confusion.

So... naturally, you ripped off your jacket when you pulled him up, and wiped his face with it; offering to take him back to your apartment to clean up.

The night turning out "perfect" for you two had him wanting to smash his skull open on a brick wall.

"Don't mean t' take up your couch, love." Steven murmured into his warm cup of tea. You had so generously offered to wash his clothes for him and let him shower--even giving him permission to use your special shampoos and soaps!--and then told him, since his laundry was dirty... He could have the couch and you two could split the vegan-friendly chocolates he brought for you while his clothes were washing.

"It's okay." You reply, wiping the last bits of your makeup from your face; already having slipped into some cute pajamas with kitty cats on them, your shirt had the slogan "Nap time is the purr-fect time!" on it. You sat next to him, cradling your cup of tea in your hands, the faint sound of your washer humming along in the background.

"Whole bloody evening's been a mess, hasn't it?" He smiled apologetically. "I didn't mean to come home with you--that is! Uh! I mean..." He rubbed the back of his neck and couched nervously, a hint of pink on his cheeks, "Well, I didn't want to impose, y'know? Or seem like some creepy weirdo who tries to stalk girls home, yeah?"

Steven was wearing a pair of your largest pj pants, and an old sports jersey, wrapped up in one of your fuzzy bathrobes. He looked the farthest thing away from a "creep". He had been a perfect gentleman all evening!

"It's okay." You smile warmly at him, setting your mug down next to his on the coffee table in font of you, reaching for your TV remote.

As you both settled in on your couch for a silly rom-com movie that had popped up in your recommended list on Netflix, Khonshu was almost vibrating from the sheer rage he felt--he was certain he would snap his staff with how hard he had been gripping it.

He was even more enraged when, after you had both become so engrossed with the movie you had let your time slip away; that you had offered to let Steven stay the fucking night. And even moreso that he accepted.

When the two of you had fallen asleep, cuddling on your couch--Khonshu hated the fact that you two just seemed... so... Ugh! Perfect for each other! No matter what he had done tonight--somehow you inevitably wound up in his arms; snuggled up and sleeping peacefully.

Well... it was better than the more intimate alternative--but still!

The bird wound up cuddling with the worm. His little bird.

As your chests rose and fell with calm, even breathing; Steven snuggled so tightly against you that his arm was draped over your waist and his nose was in the crook of your neck, Khonshu glowered.

He wondered if he let himself get hit by a car, would it kill him?

It was better than watching his sweet, innocent little bird fall for one of the most deceptively innocent creatures on Earth.

Yes you were happy, but come on...

Why did it have to be his Avatar?!

[magicalmatcha]

SWEET LIFE: Million Dollar Baby

@/touyasfavoritetrophywife tweeted!

↳ eijirou kirishima spotted in a top that costs more than my rent

LONG WRITTEN PORTION UNDER THE CUT!

“Mind if we join you?”

Bakugou glanced up from his sake, a scowl already forming. Standing before him was Shoto Todoroki, attempting a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Beside him, Izuku Midoriya fidgeted in a suit that likely cost more than some people’s annual salaries, his nervous grin betraying his unease. Towering over both was Momo Yaoyorozu, poised elegantly in her Christian Louboutins, exuding an air of effortless sophistication.

The Brat Pack’s conversation halted as they appraised the trio. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, irritation flickering across his features. Before he could voice his displeasure, Kyoka Jiro gently rested a hand on his arm, leaning in with a warm smile.

“Of course! Please, have a seat,” she chimed. “It’s been ages since finals; we’ve missed your company.”

The tension eased slightly as chairs were drawn, and the group settled into an uneasy camaraderie, the air thick with unspoken histories and fragile truces.

Shoto inclined his head courteously as he pulled out a chair for Momo, ensuring her graceful descent onto the plush seat. “Hanata, it’s a pleasure to see you,” he remarked, his tone reflecting genuine warmth. “I understand Yn had Anaïs secure your invitation.”

Sero, who had been adjusting the settings on his sleek vlog camera, looked up with a bright smile. “Yes, she really came through at the last minute. Speaking of which, where is Yn?”

Izuku lowered his head slightly, a subtle attempt to hide his amusement. Momo cleared her throat delicately. “She encountered some traffic delays but will be joining us shortly.”

“She’d better hurry,” Eijirou interjected, concern evident in his tone. “The venue’s closing soon.”

Denki scoffed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s Yn we’re talking about. They’d roll out the red carpet even if she waltzed in an hour late.”

Mina, meticulously applying a fresh layer of lip gloss while Eijirou obligingly held up a compact mirror, chimed in without missing a beat. “True, but the prime pieces are usually auctioned off early. I heard there’s a vintage Rolls-Royce Silver Spur from 1986, once owned by the Swedish Royal Family, up for grabs tonight.”

At this revelation, Katsuki’s interest visibly piqued. “An ’86 Rolls-Royce Silver Spur?” he queried, his gruff demeanor momentarily softened by genuine curiosity.

Mina nodded, her attention still fixed on perfecting her reflection. “Yes, a 1986 model. Quite the collector’s item.”

A rare grin spread across Katsuki’s face, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Looks like this event just got a whole lot more interesting.”

As the conversation shifted towards the upcoming auction items, a subtle tension infused the air. Katsuki’s rare display of enthusiasm was palpable, his eyes gleaming with anticipation at the prospect of acquiring the vintage 1986 Rolls-Royce Silver Spur. The allure of owning a piece once graced by royalty was undeniable.

Shoto, ever observant, noticed the spark in Katsuki’s demeanor. “Planning to add to your collection, Bakugou?” he inquired, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice.

Katsuki smirked, his confidence unwavering. “If the car’s as good as they say, it’s worth the investment.”

Momo interjected, her tone informative. “The Silver Spur from that era is renowned for its craftsmanship and elegance. Securing such a model would indeed be a notable acquisition.”

Denki, always the joker, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Just make sure you don’t blow your entire trust fund on it, Bakugou.”

Laughter rippled through the group, easing the earlier tension. Yet, amidst the camaraderie, an unspoken understanding lingered: the auction ahead promised competition, and friendships would momentarily be set aside in the pursuit of coveted treasures.

As the evening progressed, the grand hall began to fill with the city’s elite, each guest a testament to opulence and influence. The Brat Pack, though accustomed to the limelight, couldn’t help but feel the weight of the event’s significance.

Suddenly, the grand doors swung open, drawing the attention of many. Y/N entered, fashionably late, exuding an aura of effortless grace. Her entrance, though delayed, was nothing short of spectacular, capturing the gaze of attendees and ensuring all eyes were momentarily fixed upon her.

Katsuki’s gaze followed her, a complex mix of emotions flickering across his features—annoyance, admiration, and something else unspoken. She liked good. Her trip to Monaco treated her well, her skin rich and sun-kissed.

Her gaze swept across the room, sharp and discerning, until it landed on familiar faces. A slow, radiant smile spread across her lips as she strode toward them, unbothered by the eyes that trailed her arrival.

“Apologies for my tardiness,” she said smoothly, her tone light, effortless.

Shoto stood without hesitation, pulling out the chair nestled between Katsuki and Sero. With a gracious nod, she sank into the seat, crossing her legs.

“Yn, stunning as always,” Sero drawled with a smirk.

She let out a soft laugh, tilting her head. “And you clean up quite nicely yourself.” Her gaze flickered over him, amused. “I have to admit, I was surprised when you asked for an invitation. What convinced you to make an appearance?”

Sero shrugged nonchalantly, the lens of his video camera catching the light as he waved it around. “Gotta pay for college somehow,” he quipped with a grin.

Yn nodded thoughtfully, her attention shifting to the man sitting beside her. Her smile softened as she turned toward him, the faintest hint of mischief in her eyes.

“Bakugou,” she said, voice smooth but with a playful edge. “How’ve you been?”

Bakugou’s gaze flickered to her, his expression immediately hardening, but there was a glint in his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed. He leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his sake, the amber liquid almost matching the fiery look he shot her way.

“Better now that you’ve graced us with your presence, princess,” he grunted, his tone rough, but the slight smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise.

Yn raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “Oh, how charming, Bakugou. I didn’t know you cared so much.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a more teasing pitch. “You usually seem too busy glaring at people to show any real interest.”

“Unlike you, I don’t waste time on things that don’t matter,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “Not like you, sitting here playing nice with all these rich idiots.”

Yn’s lips curled in a sly smile. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s just a game. Something you’d never understand, huh?” She tilted her head as if considering him. “You’re a bit of a lone wolf, aren’t you, Bakugou? Too busy sulking in your own little world.”

He scoffed, leaning forward slightly. “I’m not sulking. Just keeping my distance from fake people like you.”

“Fake? That’s rich coming from the king of acting like he doesn’t care about anyone,” she shot back. “Tell me, Bakugou, do you think this 'I hate everyone' act is working? When everyone can see how you clearly care so much?"

He growled low in his throat, clearly agitated but undeniably intrigued. “I don’t need to put on a show for anyone,” he muttered, eyes flickering with something between irritation and amusement. “At least I’m not pretending to be some perfect little angel.”

Yn leaned in just a bit more, her gaze never leaving his. “I’m far from perfect, Bakugou,” she said softly, her voice dangerously close to a whisper. “But I’m definitely better at keeping people on their toes. Especially you.”

The challenge hung between them, a dance of words that neither of them seemed willing to back down from. Bakugou clenched his jaw, but there was an undeniable tension in the air, one neither of them could ignore.

And neither could anyone else.

Momo cleared her throat, an amused glint dancing in her eyes as she subtly interrupted the unspoken tension between Yn and Bakugou. “So, what exactly are you planning on bidding on, Yn?” Her voice was casual, but there was a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Yn’s gaze flickered momentarily toward the stage, her expression lighting up with excitement. “An ’86 Silver Spur Rolls Royce, owned by the Swedish Royal Family,” she said, clasping her hands together in eager anticipation. “I’ve had my eye on it for a while now. Can’t resist a classic, especially one with such a… storied past.” Her lips curled into a sly grin, a mixture of excitement and confidence in her tone. “I’ll have to send a thank-you note to mother for pulling some strings and getting me this invitation.”

“And what makes you so sure you’re going to get it?” Bakugou shot back, his voice thick with challenge.

Yn turned to him, a confident smirk playing on her lips. “I can only hope.”

“Well, your hopes are getting crushed tonight, Fushikage.” Bakugou leaned forward, his gaze intense. “That Rolls is as good as mine.”

Yn raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “And what makes you so sure? Hope, like me?” she teased, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

“No,” he said with a sharp grin, leaning even closer. “I know I’ll get it.”

Yn rolled her eyes, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t get too cocky, Bakugou.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the auctioneer’s voice cut through the banter, echoing in the room, bringing the playful exchange to a sudden halt. Everyone turned toward the stage as the bidding began.

“The auction will now commence,” the auctioneer announced, his voice reverberating through the room. ��Our first lot: The 1986 Silver Spur Rolls Royce, previously owned by the Swedish Royal Family. The bidding will start at ¥25 million.”

“¥26 million,” a man called out from the front, raising his paddle confidently.

“¥26 million, do I hear ¥27 million?” The auctioneer’s voice rang out.

“¥27 million,” Yn’s voice chimed, her paddle raised in a fluid motion. A bright smile lit up her face as she watched the auctioneer acknowledge her bid.

“¥27 million, do I hear ¥28 million?”

“¥30 million,” Bakugou’s voice boomed, cutting through the room with his signature intensity. He raised his paddle, turning slightly toward Yn with a smug grin. She shot him a sideways glance, smoothing the fabric of her Givenchy dress with a slight frown.

She sighed, her smile returning as she raised her paddle. “¥35 million.”

“¥40 million.”

“¥50 million.”

“¥51 million,” Bakugou said firmly, the competitive fire in his eyes never wavering. The tension in the air thickened.

“¥51 million and 100,000,” Yn shot back, her lips curling into a defiant smirk.

“¥51 million and 200,000.”

“¥51 million and 300,000.”

The back-and-forth continued, each bid escalating in increments, but neither willing to back down.

“Are you going to let them keep going?” Izuku leaned in toward Momo, his eyes glued to the rapidly escalating bids.

Shoto chuckled, watching the battle unfold with a bemused expression. “God, please let them. This is the most entertainment I’ve had all month.”

The auctioneer’s gavel hovered above the podium, ready to strike at any moment. The bidding had become a near standstill, both Bakugou and Yn locked in their silent, competitive stare-down, each unwilling to break first. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the crowd could feel the heat between them.

“¥51 million and 500,000,” Bakugou finally grunted, breaking the silence, his eyes never leaving Yn.

She tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, mischievous grin. “¥51 million and 600,000.”

“¥51 million and 700,000.”

“¥51 million and 800,000,” Yn retorted smoothly, her voice carrying the slightest edge of playful arrogance. The room grew quieter as the bidding soared, no one daring to challenge the pair.

“¥52 million,” Bakugou declared, his tone even more firm. He leaned back in his seat, his smirk widening as he glanced over at her. “You’re getting too cocky, Fushikage. This is as close as you’ll get.”

Yn’s eyes sparkled with challenge. “Not yet, Bakugou.” She raised her paddle once again. “¥53 million.”

At this, a few heads in the audience turned, some clearly aware that the two were no longer bidding solely on the car—it was a battle of wills now, each determined to claim victory. The auctioneer, barely able to keep up, shifted uncomfortably but pressed on.

“¥53 million. Do I hear ¥54 million?” he called, almost reflexively.

Bakugou leaned forward, a little too eagerly. “¥55 million.”

Yn’s gaze flickered to him, her grin widening. She raised her paddle one last time. “¥60 million.”

The room gasped. Even the auctioneer stopped for a moment, momentarily stunned by the audacity of her bid.

Bakugou, who had been so certain of his victory, paused. His hand hovered above his paddle, fingers twitching as if considering whether to keep going or concede.

There was no way she’d go higher. Right?

The silence between them stretched, a slow realization dawning in his mind. Bakugou was about to give up when he caught sight of Yn’s triumphant smirk, and his pride refused to allow him to back down.

“¥70 million,” he blurted out before he could stop himself, his voice gruff but determined.

Yn’s smile faltered for a split second. She’d pushed him far enough, but she knew she could go one more step.

“¥80 million.”

Bakugou’s face hardened, and his eyes narrowed. She was playing the game.

The auctioneer was getting impatient, his gavel almost falling.

“Going once… going twice…” The auctioneer began.

Yn leaned back in her seat, the smirk never leaving her lips. “Sorry, Bakugou. Looks like you’ve been outbid.”

Bakugou opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the auctioneer’s voice rang out, sealing the deal.

“Sold. ¥80 million to the lady in the front.”

Yn sat back in her seat, exhaling sharply, her heart racing with the high of victory. Bakugou stared at her, jaw clenched, clearly holding back the retort that was bubbling in his throat.

“Looks like I win, Bakugou,” Yn said, her voice smooth, teasing.

Bakugou growled, "Like always."

inside scoop!

kirishima rode the metro with mina in solidarity 

izuku is being groomed to be the successor to the Fortune 500 company, All Might Enterprises, by Toshinori Yagi since he never had children and wanted it to be someone he picked rather than just the next in line at the company 

Shoto finds their relationship concerning 

mina has never set an alarm or reminder in her life. thats what dorota (and eiji) (and kyoka) is for

bakugou is obsessed with cars. hates spending his parents money rashly but makes exceptions for vintage vehicles 

mina is more blair/serena coded than yn will be and you'll see that 

however yn and bakugou will have a relationship lightly inspired by blair and chuck

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