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ggirlthatgotaway · 2 days ago

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Not Cold Any Longer (modern au)

summary: Aemond is that guy you’ve known since you were kids, the one you’ve never talked to and that had gotten fucking weird. But you end up becoming friends, and you find out that not only he’s right about your shit boyfriend, but also that he’s a fucking ride that can keep you boiling hot all the time.

trigger warning: explicit language, mention of useless men, mention of Franz Ferdinand, sexual content, name calling, choking, slapping, loving, maybe other things.

word count: 6.2k

note: Aemond is not hotd-Aemond but the FontainesDC-hottie-freak (fuck me<3) . also english is my 3rd language and i haven’t written a complete smut since i was 13 (read, don’t judge) so yeah do tell me what you think

-💎

The cold air of the night was hitting your face, and it stung your skin despite your best efforts to hide it in the collar of your jacket. You didn’t want to go back home, you wanted to keep walking, to go to him.

From your house to his, there was a six-minute drive, which meant a forty-five-minute walk for someone who walked quickly. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you glanced around the dark street, not a sound to be heard.

Your mind raced back to earlier that day, to the reason why you were walking to his house. His words replayed in your mind over and over: “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?” he had shouted, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but a hint of sadness was lacing them. He had tried to hide it, as always, like the rest of his emotions.

He had already told you that you were able to understand him despite his precautions- “I don’t fancy how ye keep readin’ me mind, love.” he had said with a soft grin and happy eyes. But that was a completely different circumstance; it was something light, about why he had started inviting you to gigs instead of bringing his friend, Sal.

Anyway, him telling you that you didn’t understand had your heart twisting in pain, both when those words had left his mouth and when you thought about them again.

He had gotten angry because of what you’d told him had happened with Ed, your boyfriend. His eyes had widened when you told him he’d left you waiting for an hour yesterday, because he ‘got distracted with his friends, and forgot to pick you up from your shift’. It was your anniversary.

But that wasn’t why Aemond had shouted to you that you didn’t understand- that came after. Earlier today, your phone had rang with his call: he had told you he was nearby, that his Ma had asked him to buy some bread before leaving for her shift, and if you minded if he stayed over a bit.

Spending time with him had become the highlight of your day recently, so a smile had curved your lips as you told him yes. He had arrived with a CD in his hands, “I know you like this shit.” he told you then, showing you the new album by Franz Ferdinand you had been planning to buy for weeks now.

You had gasped, and started covering his cheeks with kisses despite his half-hearted efforts to get away from your grip- half-hearted because his arm had already sneaked to hold your waist. “You’re mental.” you had told him with wide eyes, but he had just tutted and shrugged, leaving the CD on your desk and throwing himself on your bed.

“How did it go with the eejit?” he had asked you then, referring to Ed and your anniversary. His arm had been covering his eyes, but he took it away and looked at you when you hadn’t answered. “What did he do?” he had asked with a sigh.

You had briefly glanced at him before letting your gaze fall on the white and burgundy sheets of your bed. He wasn’t one who let go of this kind of things- not with you, at least- and you had known an answer was necessary if you weren’t planning on having him shut up and stare into your eyes for three hours.

So you had sighed heavily and brought your eyes back on his, “He didn’t show up.”

At your words, he had looked like he had stopped breathing. Then, he’d sunken his teeth into his lips, closed his eyes and let out a low and deep breath. “You’re aware he’s still breathing because you want him to?”

His eyes had opened again, and he’d directed them to you, waiting for your answer. When you’d nodded, he had continued: “Changed your mind?” he’d asked you, his tone slightly pleading, with a hint of hope. But you’d shaken your head.

You had seen his eyes closing again, and he’s let out another deep breath. “What did you do, then?”

“I walked.”

Silence had filled the air between you two once again, until he’d straightened up and sat on the edge of your bed. He had ran a hand on his face and settled his elbows on his knees, “You walked… Didn’t call me?”

“It’s just a ten minute walk.” you had tried to explain with a shake of your head, but he had stopped you.

“And now your throat aches.”

You had bitten the inside of your cheek at that. You were always cold, always wore two pairs of trousers to go to school, always had as many blankets as possible on your bed. Aemond knew, and each time you stepped foot into his house he had the kettle on, and the blanket that held the most warmth was folded and waiting on the couch, and he asked you right away if you wanted that ugly but incredibly warm sweater he never wore.

“It doesn’t.” you had told him, and it was true, because you were still healing from the last time you had the flue, and your antibodies were still strong.

“Mh.” he had said, nodding. You had never seen anger simmering quite as much as it did in him in that moment. “Why don’t you fucking leave him, mh? Still fuckin’ think he deserves you?” he had said, his voice rising at every word. “I’m genuinely curious, love- tell me.”

“Aemond…” you had said, interrupting yourself with a sigh. He had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaning his hands on the ledge. “I like him when he’s with me.”

“Well, that’s a fucking pathetic thing to say.” he had told you before turning around, his eyes as hard as ice, “That’s because you can’t find a bloody nice thing to say ‘bout him.”

“He’s still me boyfriend, though-“ you had tried to say before his shouts filled the room.

“And he shouldn’t fuckin’ be! It’s your fault he still is,” he had said, pointing a finger in your direction, “and it makes me fucking mental just thinking about it.”

“Then don’t, Aemond! It’s none of your fucking business!” you had tried to retort, but you had told it to yourself how daft your words had sounded, since it was Aemond the one always available to listen to you yap about how shite Ed made you feel while barely containing tears in your eyes.

“Shut up, don’t even fucking play this card with me!” he had yelled at you before taking a deep breath and pushing his black hair out of his face. That still hadn’t tamed the tone of his voice when he’d spoken again, “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?!” his eyes had been wide as he looked at you with a hint of desperation in hie voice, a hand held out to you in hope.

But your brows had furrowed, and your eyes had expressed nothing but confusion as you’d looked at him.

His hand had fallen and slapped his thigh, “Leave him, or don’t fucking talk to me again.”

He had walked away then, leaving you with wide eyes and the security that those words weren’t what he had been thinking about when he had told you that you didn’t understand.

And you admitted it to yourself as you walked to Aemond’s house at midnight, with the freezing cold of February seeping into your bones, that you might have waited a bit much to act on whatever you needed to act on.

But you did pat yourself on the shoulder for the strong punch you’d landed on Ed’s nose about an hour ago- which, in all honesty, was something you’d learnt from Aemond and the lessons he gave you so you could ‘have a wee chance to survive if they attacked you on the street’, if someone was to say it with his words.

After you had exited Ed’s house, a mischievous grin plastered on your lips, your thoughts had gone to Aemond right away, thinking about his laugh when you would have told him what you’d done. Your smile had fallen.

But it was fine, you told yourself as you walked faster in the dark night, because you were going to fix everything.

The truth was, you had never felt quite as empty as you did when Aemond had left your room that evening. And you had already known there that you needed to go to Ed’s and leave him- which you realised hurt your hand way more than it did your heart.

Aemond was right. Fucking Aemond Targaryen, the lad that wanted to talk to nobody at school except for you and Sal Quinn, the one that wanted no glimpse of a relationship, was right.

You needed to walk faster.

You took out your phone and flipped it open, pondering on whether or not to call him and ask him to pick you up on the street where Mae Allbrook lived. Realising that would have needed to stay still for at least three minutes as you waited for him, you flipped your phone closed and put it back into the pocket of your jeans.

You definitely didn’t do it because Aemond would have screamed at you for the entire ride back to his house- or better yet, for the ride and for the ten minutes he’d spend heating your hands up by rubbing them between his.

No, it was better to make your grand entrance at his house and have him freak out there, while you sat in front of the fire in his living room.

You let out a sigh when you saw the old, ruined red car, weakly lit by the nearby light pole. You almost ran to the door and jumped over the low gate, before taking out your phone again.

“Aemond,” you said when he answered. You heard the sigh he let out, and you understood how affected he, too, was about what had happened earlier that day. “I’m outside.”

He didn’t close the call after those words left your mouth, but you heard a stomp, and understood that he hadn’t even closed the call before launching himself off his bed and running downstairs.

The front door swung open in front of you, making your hair fly in front of your face. He didn’t wait for you to step inside, deciding instead to take matters into his own hands and grab your jacket to pull you in roughly.

Before you knew, he was muttering to himself behind you, his hands passing over your thighs over and over to heat them up. “You feel your hands yet?” he asked gruffly, not even trying to hide how he still remembered your last conversation word by word.

You nodded and said, “I’m not that cold.” but he tutted and shook his head, not believing a word. “Care to tell me the fuck you’re doing?” he finally asked.

“Apologising.” you answered after some seconds, slightly distracted by the way his wide palms transferred heat into the skin of your thighs. “You were right.”

You turned your head to look at him behind you, and he let out a sigh, stilling his movements and leaving his hands on the top of your legs. He threatened to move them to your hips, his movements slow and unsure, before his warm palms left your body and he got up on his feet, making you look at him from the floor, “I’m tired. Tell me if I have to bring you home or you crash here.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, getting up from the floor and grabbing your own arm with a hand. “Can I stay over?”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes as they met yours, but then he nodded towards the stairs, and you followed him to his room.

“Change.” he told you with an assertive tone once you reached his room, putting a hand in his wardrobe and throwing that ugly sweater and a pair of sweatpants at you.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a grin at his annoyed actions. But as you went to the bathroom to change, you couldn’t help but think about what his expression would be like when you finally told him.

His room was always quite dark and warm, and the dim light that came from the tank he kept Vhagar in made everything seem blue.

You approached him slowly, nibbling at the skin inside your lower lip as his eyes went from the ash tray set on his nightstand to you.

You could see the smoke of his Benson and Hedges coming out of his nose and going upwards. “Come here.” he said then, slightly defeated, but only half-heartedly.

So you climbed onto his bed and he reached out with a hand to touch your waist. “Still cold…” he muttered to himself before deciding to bring you closer to him.

He put off his cigarette on the ashtray and held you with his arms wrapped around you, a hand on the curve of your hip. “I’m sorry.” you told him, looking in his blue eyes you couldn’t quite see.

He didn’t say anything about your apology, but you felt his hand twitch on your hip. “What did you think you were doing, walking alone at this time?”

His features were lightened by those soft blue hues, making the sharp angles of his face even more so. You raised your hand and trailed your finger on his cheekbone. His skin was hot, and you felt him stop breathing at your touch. Your hand dropped back on the bed, “I left him.”

You started to worry when you didn’t see him starting to breathe again, but then he talked, “You’re not lying?”

When you shook your head in no, his hand tightened on your hip drastically. “Fuckin’ finally.” he said, letting out a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, “He just sat there, holding his nose after I punched him.”

You saw Aemond’s eyes widen, and the corners of his mouth curled up until they formed a wide grin. He started laughing, his chest shaking as he shook his head. “Wonderful woman…” he muttered, leaning his mouth on your shoulder, making goosebumps spread wildly on your skin.

He started caressing your hip then, going dangerously close to your arse as he always did. But still, what you felt was a deep sense of peace there: at his house, in his arms, surrounded by the smell of smoke and green tea that clung to his skin.

You’d known each other since you were kids, since way before he had started dying his hair black and got into the metal music he had definitely been listening to before you called him.

But you had never really talked until four months ago. You had your friends, he had his, all outside of school, and you both had never bothered trying to talk. It had all changed in a matter of days after an English Literature project.

It felt weird when you thought about it, trusting someone the way you did him after so few time, even if you’d known him for ever, because you’d never really talked.

“You know I love you, right?” you said then. It was out of the blue, really, but you couldn’t help it.

Those three words seemed to hit him more than you intended them to. He paused the movement of his hand on your hips and cleared his throat, straightening himself slightly. He still didn’t answer, though, but simply sighed and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t care about you saying it back: I just want you to know I love you.” you said hurriedly but calmly, distancing yourself slightly to look at him, finally able to do it properly since your eyes adjusted to the dark.

He let out a snorted laugh at your words, and shook his head. “D’you think I don’t love you?” he asked you, his voice low and husky. His grip on your hip tugged you close so you were sitting on top of him, “That’s not the problem, princess.”

“I don’t understand-“ you tried to argue, but he laughed again, interrupting you.

“You do, love… You do.” he said before leaning close to your ear. His nose brushed against your earlobe, his lips against your jaw as his breath ghosted your skin and he murmured lowly, “You got me wrapped around your finger... Got me doing whatever you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hand was gripping his shoulder and your nails were definitely digging in his skin through his sweater, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“And now…” he whispered , interrupting himself to let out an unironic laugh and shaking his head. “Now you’re sitting on my lap, pretending not to notice how fucking hard my cock is for you.”

You were breathing fast, so fast you felt the blood pumping in your ears, and his words did nothing to quell that. His smirk remained on his lips as he brought his cold blue eyes back to yours.

He tilted his head to the side, a strand of his dark, dyed hair falling over his eyes. “What do you plan on doing about it, then?” he asked, the teasing tone still present. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on your hip tightened, told a different story.

Was it real what he’d said? That he loved you, craved you so much that his cock was rock hard after barely five minutes of you sitting on him?

“About…” you said, pressing your lips together, trying to gather the courage to complete the sentence. You found it when the corner of his mouth quirked up again and both his hands found their way to your arse, squeezing it and pulling you flush against him. The action made you let out a small sigh, but you decided not to let yourself fear him, so you raised a hand and brought the strand of black hair away from his face. “What do I plan on doing about your cock?” you said in a whisper.

His mouth curved into a smirk and he breathed out another laugh due to your words. He was usually the dirty one, even if you still didn’t exactly know how dirty he was. “Yeah, ‘bout that…” he confirmed with two slight nods of his head. “Now that you’re fully aware of what you do to me.” he added, letting out a deep breath.

One hand remained firm on your arse, keeping you right where he wanted you, while the other moved up to your face. He traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, feeling the softness of your skin and the pulse quickening beneath it. In that moment, all the cold you had felt as you had walked to his house for forty minutes was completely forgotten, disappeared in your mind like ash after a breath.

“What do you think I should do?” you asked, swallowing harshly. You suddenly felt stupid for the question, and you did even more when he snorted out another laugh.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Why don't ye use your imagination, Princess?" he whispered huskily. The hand on your face slid back, cupping your cheek as his thumb continued to brush against your lower lip.

“Okay…” you whispered out in a breath as you nodded. Then you slowly leaned into the brief distance that separated you two, brushing your lips against his before pressing them into a kiss.

It was rushed, definitely stupid, but you wanted to try and see how it felt. His lips had always looked rough to you, chipped and bloodied in winter, but now, against yours, they were soft, boiling hot, sweet and incredibly inviting.

His hand tightened its grip on your arse, pulling you even closer to his body as his other hand tangled itself in your hair, angling your head for better access to your mouth.

His kiss was even gentle, which surprised you, but more than anything it made you want more. When his grip on your hair tightened and pulled on it just enough to make you wet but not enough to hurt excessively, a moan came up your throat and overturned into his mouth.

He pulled away before capturing your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. His hand slapped your arse, making you jolt forward and making him laugh. “Slut.” he muttered, closing the distance between you two again.

You let out a chuckle against his lips, and started grinding your hips against his. Right away, he groaned and pulled you closer still, eagerly helping you with your movements.

His other hand moved from your cheek to your neck, fingers gripping gently but firmly. "Is that what you want, princess?" he growled, breaking the kiss briefly to let you breathe. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "You want to feel me inside you?" he asked, voice strained and husky.

You were slightly startled by his hand around your throat, by his thumb stroking your pulse point like it was the most fragile and precious thing in his world. You bit your lower lip and your hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was holding you, which made his lips part in what looked like feral hunger, before nodding.

Your response was everything he needed to hear. His hand on your neck tightened slightly as he claimed your mouth once more, kissing you harder. His hips thrust upward, pushing his erection against your core, as if to emphasize his words. He let go of your hair, his hand trailing down your back until it reached your waist.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping at your skin before tracing a scorching path down to your neck. He loved the way you moaned when he bit you there, and he did so again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Fuck…" he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into your waist. He seemed to need to feel you, to make sure this whole thing was real. "Use your words, Princess."

A whine escaped your lips before you were able to reply, and you felt completely daft other then drenched between your thighs. “Yes,” you said, your words like a plea, “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes bore in yours for two seconds before he pushed you off him, making you land on your hands on the mattress. He pulled himself up, standing on his knees on the bed, “Take your clothes off.” he ordered with a nod of his head as he stared down at you, his tone leaving no space for arguing.

With a heavy chest, mouth parted and eyes wide, you complied. You unzipped his black jumper, trying not to be clumsy as you slipped it off your arms.

Still, Aemond seemed unable to wait, because he quickly threw the jumper off the bed before his fingers found the bow you tied to the string of his sweatpants.

He undid it as you took your shirt off. “How many fuckin’ pair of trousers you’ve got on?!” he growled, both bothered and amused when he found a pair of leggings under the sweats.

You let out a chuckle as he did the same, shaking his head as he pulled the first layer of fabric off roughly, before doing the same with the second.

He stopped when you were left with only your underwear, and he stared bluntly, pressing his lips together as his chest raised and fell heavily.

You moved your right leg to brush its calf against his clothed thigh, your eyes on his. His hissed in a breath, his hand gripping your thigh like he wanted to rip off the meat to eat it. “It’s your turn.” you whispered as you let your leg wander higher.

The action gained you his grip to tighten and a slap to be delivered to your thigh. But he complied, pulling his t-shirt off from the collar and blindly throwing it somewhere before pulling down his trousers.

He put a hand on your knee and settled between your thighs, crushing his mouth against yours once again. The roughness of Aemond's touch sent sparks flying across your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned out of control. He pressed you further into the mattress, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel every inch of his bare torso, each ripple of muscle and scar, his heat enveloping you like a living flame.

His grip on your thigh loosened and his fingers went up until they reached you inner thigh, teasing you as if he wasn’t dying for it. You whined against his mouth, squirming under his touch.

He chuckled against your mouth, and he gave into your desires in a matter of seconds, sliding his hand inside your drenched knickers and exploring your folds. He breathed heavily on your wet lips after he had to break the kiss. He looked at you as he slipped a finger inside, and watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Think, Princess…” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours before doing the same on your cheek. He added another finger, making you let out a moan. “Think of each touch I give you tonight…”

He stopped his movements temporarily, taking his fingers out and making you gasp, to grab the sides of your knickers and pull them down and off roughly.

His mouth reached your neck while his fingers found your cunt once again, entering you in such a beautiful way your eyes rolled back. He started pumping his fingers in and out roughly, making your breath catch in your throat before it came out in a broken scream.

“Think of this, and then back at that fuckin’ halfwit that you let inside this beautiful cunt.”

Your wetness was completely coating his fingers at that point, and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else, or so it seemed as you looked at him through half-closed eyelids.

He continued his assault, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing circular motions on it, as his lips left kisses, hot and wet, on the skin of your neck. They made you remember how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, and you found yourself craving it once again.

The memory and the sensations he was giving you only fuelled your wetness, and your orgasm drew closer. “Aemond…” you breathed out, your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers.

Just as if he was reading your mind, his lips left the soft skin of your neck to leave space for his free hand. You let out an embarrassing whimper when his fingers wrapped securely under your jaw.

“I think you’re liking it too much…” Aemond groaned, his voice husky and gravel as his fingers worked restlessly inside your pussy. “I should stop.”

Your hand found the wrist of the hand that was holding your neck when those words left his mouth, and you let out an irritated moan, kicking his side with a trembling leg.

He let out a small laugh, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black. Aemond’s fingers went faster, making you let out a strangled yell as your eyes stayed fixed on his.

Your legs threatened to close, but he avoided it by getting closer, his breath now ghosting over your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, crushing your lips against his as your pussy spasmed around his long fingers.

He kept them there after you climaxed, slowing the movements of his fingers progressively before sliding them out. He brought them to his lips like an instinctive motion.

He groaned at the sight of your flushed face, your eyes glazed with pleasure, and the way your body still trembled from the orgasm he'd given you, and definitely even for the taste of you he was licking from his fingers. You bet he loved reducing you to this state - wanting, needing, begging for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting off the bed and taking off his boxers. His cock was hard, veiny, and you found yourself thinking of it inside you, stretching you out while you felt every singe thing he wished you to.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, opening the plastic with his teeth and discarding both the useless pieces carelessly on the floor. He slid it on, barely looking at what he was doing before he nodded at you, “Take that shit off.”

You furrowed your brows and looked down, noticing you still had your bra on. You were still breathing heavily, but you quickly did as he’d asked.

He moved back on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approached you with hunger. He was like a madman- you had never seen him like this before.

He kissed you again, hooking his hand under your right knee and folding its leg over the other. It provided him with the perfect view of your ass and face, and it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he broke the kiss to take a look at you.

One hand found the top of your thigh while he used the other to hold himself up on the mattress. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, making your hand fly to his hair and a gasp escape your throat.

His hand left your thigh and went to his cock, guiding it to your pussy. He teased your already tender flesh with his tip, making you both groan.

His mouth disclosed around your nipple and he lied his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed out once again, shaking his head before straightening up.

His hand went back to your thigh, and he ground himself against you. His head rolled back and his eyes closed at the contact, his mouth fell agape.

And you, with his cock almost inside you and his hand pinning your body to his will, couldn’t help but look at him: at the sweat that clung to his body, at his long hair you craved to pull, at his fingers that had just made you cum like nobody ever did.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked on yours right away, staring down at you. Then, he thrust inside you in one, swift and steady motion, filling you up with his cock just like you wanted him to. You weren’t cold any longer.

You didn’t try to conceal the scream if pure pleasure that escaped your lips at his motion, and he didn’t hide his. “Shit, Aemond!” you moaned, brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grunted, punctuating his phrase with a thrust, making your body jolt forward despite the way his hand was holding you tightly. “I’m already trying not to cum.”

His words made you cheeks heat up and a grin spread on your lips as he began to thrust inside you. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling every vein on his cock despite the latex separating you- maybe you were fooling yourself, but you were fine with it.

Aemond’s thrusts left you both breathless, and filled the room with the sound of skin meeting skin in perfectly rough motions.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of him inside you, and the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him made him understand that perfectly, other than making you feel like a pathetic whore.

His hand on your thigh was leaving red marks that had the shape of his fingers, and you loved it. “Please… Harder.” you found yourself begging, and he complied.

His hand left your thigh, gave your ass a firm slap before balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress to hold him up. His other hand reached your hair and grabbed a fistful, twisting it between his fingers before tugging on it sharply, making you yelp and arch your back.

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” he said with a wicked grin, pounding into your with more force than before. His hips collided against the skin of your ass he’d just slapped, making it even redder.

In response, your hand wrapped around his arm and your nails dug into the fair skin, making him grunt and pull even harder on your hair.

He fucked you harder as a form of punishment which he knew would only make things better for both of you. “Look at me, Princess.” Aemond breathed out the order, his chest heaving and his mouth open.

When you did, he let out an uncontrolled moan and gave you a particularly hard thrust, “Who owns you now, mh?”

The dirty talk, the rough treatment - it all fueled your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. That’s why your lips curved into a grin.

But he wasn’t playing, because his fist opened and he slapped your ass again, “Answer.” he ordered. There, you understood it was all about pleading you to tell him, to reassure him, that Ed was gone from your mind, that he was the one inhabiting it.

“You do.”

At your words, and your burning eyes that accompanied them, Aemond grinned, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you ass up, all without exiting your tight heat.

He pushed your hips down until your chest pressed down on the soft comforter, and he started pounding again.

The change of position made your mind go blank, and your eyes almost saw white for how deep he reached.

He leaned in, still slamming into your with from behind like wild animal- his grin gone. “Who owns you, Princess?” he asked you again with the most guttural voice you’d ever heard coming from him.

“You!” you screamed with the few air and fewer focus the new position left you, as you felt your second orgasm approach like a storm above a deep sea.

“Good girl.” Aemond breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic and his grip tightening as he let out a loud moan. His pace quickened, his breathing turned even more ragged, and you could feel him as he started losing control.

“Aemond!” you yelled, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow pressed against your cheek.

Hearing you scream his name, seeing the pleasure on your face, sent Aemond made him go even more mental than before: he pounded into you harder, faster, the bed rocking underneath the ferocity of his movements.

And your vision narrowed, your thoughts filled only with images of him and the feeling of his cock pounding restlessly inside you as your cunt clamped down around his cock, like you wanted him stretching you wider, breaking you even more.

The sensation of your second orgasm hitting you sent him over the edge, and with few powerful thrusts and a low growl, he came, filling the condom up to the brim.

Spent, he let himself fall on the bed, careful not to hurt you as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around your waist, making your back press against his chest.

He buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily. You bit your lip hard, trying to calm down and speak, “You were slightly better than Ed.”

You felt him let out a breathed laugh against your neck, but that didn’t save you from the slap he gave your ass. “Shut up.”

You jolted forward but chuckled. Then freed yourself from his embrace, making him frown and lock his eyes on you.

You scooted down, enjoying his confused expression and showing it with a grin, until you lied with your chest on his legs.

You pulled the used condom off his still-hard cock with a wicked gleam in your eyes. You revelled in the way his breath caught in his throat at your actions, and even more so when his mouth opened in pleasure as you started cleaning him off his cum with your tongue.

His hand went to your hair, holding the side of your face as you looked up at the desperate look for more in his eyes.

“Shit…” he breathed out raggedly. “You’re such a slut…”

You grinned, and started trailing kisses up his stomach and to his neck until you sat on top of him again. You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed him, aware of how he could taste himself on your tongue.

His arms held you tight against his warm chest, his forehead against yours as you broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but think about how many months you had thrown at the wind when you could have been in his bed, warm and…

“I love you.”

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pomefioredove · 3 days ago

Note

Hi, there ! :D

I saw the new Christmas event and it got me intrigued so I want to try my shot

If it is not too much trouble, I would like to request:

Can I have a sugar cookie, #4, with marshmallows, whipped cream and powdered sugar ?

Take your time and without pressure. I wish you a happy December and a merry Christmas. Thank you. ཐི✧ཋྀ

tfw azul

order #4, sugar with marshmallows, whipped cream, powdered sugar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reason to quit

summary: azul works in customer service to get closer to his crush. pining ensues tropes: royalty au, coffee shop au, roommates au characters: azul additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu, reader is prince rielle's sibling

It was quite simple, actually.

If Azul could not impress you, he would die.

Okay. Maybe that's somewhat of an overexaggeration. But that's what it felt like.

If he had known that higher education would be so distracting, perhaps he would have gone right into the private sector!

Of course, his university roommate just had to be the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person he'd ever met. Of course they had to be the elder sibling of the detestable Prince Rielle.

And of course they were entirely uninterested in him.

Oh, how he loathed feeling this way...

At least he could still depend on the tweels, wherever in the world they were, to lend him their eyes and ears and stalking skills, and to find the exact coffee shop you perused every morning.

Someday, Azul thinks, He'll own a whole franchise of these. Then you can have as much overpriced coffee as you want.

Today, though, he's desperate.

"That'll be fifteen thaumarks. Yes, you heard me correctly- that was six pumps of caramel, ma'am- the price accounts for the product, it's quite simple! Wha- a secret menu? I assure you, if there was such a thing, I would have been the first to hear of it!"

Azul steps away from the counter, massaging his temples. It's only six thirty in the morning, and he already has a migraine...

It will be worth it. There's no reward without risk!

The shrill, unpleasant sound of the bells by the door becomes an angelic choir as you pass them. Azul hurries back to the counter. This is the only tolerable part of his shift, after all.

"Pleasant morning," he says to you, smiling as if his manager had just given him the rest of the day off.

You smile back. Good. Very good. You are so very pretty, do you know that? Surely, you do, you must have a line of suitors waiting for your hand. All the more reason for Azul to work hard.

"Ah... up bright and early again, Azul? You must really like this job,"

He grinds his teeth, putting more pressure into his smile. "Just love it. Your usual?"

"I think I'll try something new. Whatever you would recommend,"

"Very well," he beams. You trust his judgment that much? Azul pushes his glasses up his nose and gets to work, not-so-subtly checking you out every few seconds. Why is it so hard to speak to you????

Thank the Sevens for customer service small-talk, he thinks for the first and only time ever.

"How has your morning been?" he asks, again, trying not to seem too eager. "You had an exam quite early, if I remember correctly."

Which he does, of course. He has your schedule memorized down to the minute. As one does.

You look up from your phone. "Ah, you remember that...? It went... well, I think,"

Azul takes off his glasses to wipe the steam from them. He wants to savor being able see you, after all. "You don't sound too confident,"

"I'm sure I passed..." you sigh. "It's just that... well, our father is strict. If he found out I was barely passing-"

"I'll tutor you!" Azul blurts out, the paper cup of coffee nearly slipping from his hands. You blink.

"Ahem- I apologize. I only meant that it would be no trouble for me. And I would do so at a discount, of course."

He puts a lid over the warm confection and stumbles to the other side of the counter, as if this was his first day on land.

"You'd do that for me?" you follow him, eyes wide. Pretty...

Azul almost blushes at that cute look, and lowers his gaze to his trembling fingers, attempting to write your name on the cup, his normally perfect cursive reduced to scribbles.

"...Of course. It would be more convenient than hiring a stranger,"

"Oh..." you say, looking down at his hand as you take the cup from him, your fingers brushing over his. And you smile. "Thank you!"

Azul's heart misses a beat (several, really) and he blushes again (detestable human form!)

You don't seem to notice, but everyone else in line is staring. One older man taps his watch. How he loathes this job.

"It's no trouble at all," Azul says, glancing your way. "I was looking for a reason to quit, anyway."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #queued

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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I would like to request a silly romance about Jing Yuan and a reader similar to Kiana Kaslana from Hi3!!

The reader and Jing Yuan have known each other since they were children (She didn't have a long lifespan, but she is super smart and managed to stay young despite her age.)

She had feelings for Jing Yuan but never said anything since he once told her that he was not interested in relationships, because of his job as a general and stuff. But the reader didn't know that Jing Yuan was in love with them too.

(Make the reader a member of the society of geniuses, please 😭)

By the way, I apologize for my bad English, I'm Brazilian.

Foresight and Starlight

Summary: In the serene garden of the Xianzhou Luofu’s Arbiter-General estate, the dynamic between Jing Yuan and you, the brilliant and energetic Genius Star, evolves. As the two work together on a defense proposal, your long-held feelings for each other come to the surface. Despite Jing Yuan's initial reluctance, his heart gives way to his love for you, and you both confess your feelings under the stars, with your bond deepening into something more than friendship.

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Kirana Kaslana based(?) Reader, Romance, Confessions, Friendship, Unrequited Love(not anymore), Slow Burn, Humor.

The sprawling garden of the Xianzhou Luofu’s Arbiter-General estate was, as always, serene. Vibrant blossoms swayed in the gentle breeze, and sunlight dappled the cobblestone paths with golden patterns. Jing Yuan reclined on a cushioned bench beneath a flowering tree, his eyes half-lidded as he observed the world with his characteristic calm. His lion, Mimi, lay at his feet, snoring softly.

Then came the sound of hurried footsteps.

“General Jing Yuan!” Your voice broke the tranquility, bright and boisterous, tinged with your usual energy.

Jing Yuan opened one eye and tilted his head. “Must you yell my title every time you visit?”

You skidded to a halt before him, clutching an armful of scrolls and a half-eaten baozi. “Yes, I must! It’s fun watching you flinch.”

He chuckled, though his demeanor remained languid. “You’re incorrigible, Star.”

“Genius Star,” you corrected with a dramatic bow. “Remember, I am a member of the esteemed Genius Society. You should show me more respect!”

Jing Yuan’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Ah, yes, how could I forget? The youngest genius of the cosmos, who spends more time raiding my kitchen than solving the mysteries of the universe.”

You puffed out your chest, waving the half-eaten baozi in the air. “Hey! Even geniuses need to eat. Besides, your chefs are better than the vending machines in Nous’ temple.”

He gestured for you to sit, his amusement evident. “Very well. What brings you here today, oh brilliant one?”

Plopping down beside him, you thrust a scroll toward him. “I made something! It’s a proposal for a defense system that’ll use quantum entanglement to predict enemy attacks before they happen.”

Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued despite himself. “Ambitious as always.” He began to unroll the scroll, his sharp eyes scanning the intricate diagrams and notes.

You watched him eagerly, leaning closer than necessary. His hair gleamed in the sunlight, and the faint scent of sandalwood clung to him. Despite his teasing, Jing Yuan had always been your greatest supporter, quietly encouraging your wild ideas even when others scoffed.

But you couldn’t forget his words from years ago.

“I have no room for love in my life,” he’d said with that same calm expression, back when you were both still young. “The responsibilities of a general leave no space for such things.”

So, you’d buried your feelings, choosing instead to revel in the comfort of his friendship.

But you didn’t know that Jing Yuan had meant those words as much for himself as for you.

As Jing Yuan studied your designs, Mimi stirred, lifting her massive head to nuzzle your side. You giggled, scratching behind the lion’s ears.

“I still can’t believe you named her Mimi,” you said. “You, of all people, going for something so... poetic.”

“Even generals have their softer sides,” Jing Yuan replied, setting the scroll down. “Your design is impressive, though it will need adjustments for practical application. Shall we work on it together?”

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You mean it?”

“Of course,” he said smoothly, though his heart twisted at your unguarded joy. How could you not see it? The way his gaze lingered on you, the way his carefully crafted walls faltered whenever you were near.

He had tried to suppress these feelings, convincing himself that his duty came first. But as the centuries passed, and you remained by his side—cheerful, brilliant, and infuriatingly self-sacrificing—he found it harder to resist.

Later that evening, after hours of work and many snacks (courtesy of your insistence), you sat together under the stars.

“I’ve always wondered,” you began, your voice softer now, “do you ever get lonely, Jing Yuan? Being the Dozing General and all?”

He glanced at you, startled by the shift in your tone. “Lonely? I have Mimi. And you.”

“Yeah, but I’ll probably get killed by one of my inventions someday,” you joked, though there was a flicker of sadness in your eyes. “You’ll outlive me by a long shot.”

“Don’t say that,” he said quietly.

You blinked. “What?”

He turned to face you fully, golden eyes unusually intense. “Don’t talk about leaving me like that. Do you have any idea how much I—” He stopped himself, looking away.

Your heart pounded. “How much you what?”

For once, Jing Yuan seemed at a loss for words. The carefully constructed mask of the General slipped, and beneath it was the man who had always held you just a little too close, who always smiled a little too warmly when you were near.

“I thought I couldn’t allow myself to feel this way,” he admitted finally. “But you’ve always been the exception, Star. You’re reckless and brilliant and entirely too precious to me.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Jing Yuan, are you saying—?”

“I love you,” he said simply. “I always have.”

The world seemed to tilt, and for once, your genius mind had no clever retort. Instead, you tackled him in a hug, nearly knocking him off the bench.

“You idiot!” you exclaimed, tears pricking your eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “Perhaps I was waiting for the right moment.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’m still here,” you muttered, burying your face in his shoulder. “Because I love you too, you lazy lion.”

And as Mimi huffed in approval, Jing Yuan held you close, the stars above bearing witness to a love that had endured the trials of time and duty, finally finding its moment to bloom.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan honkai star rail #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x y/n #romance #confessions #friendship #unrequited love #slow burn #humor

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ni-idea-07 · 2 days ago

Text

you will never be alone again.

Platonic Yandere Jason Todd X Reader.

TW: illegitimate siblings, cheating, mild yandere, mutilation threats, non-graphic mutilation, paranoia, threats. English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes

Somehow Jason found out he had a younger sister. It didn't really matter how he found out, but he was excited and panicked at the same time. Well, he had a lot more emotions on his mind.

He had to find you and see you for the first time in person which touched him the most.

You weren't of age yet and you weren't a baby, you could take care of yourself, but he wouldn't allow you to be alone like he was in the past.

–"Hey, brat, how much for a candy?"

You were surprised when he asked you, after all he was twice your size and he didn't seem like the kind of person who would buy the ugly and cheap candy you sold out of obligation.

Once you told him the price, he pulled out his wallet, a rather full one, you threw away the box of candy and took his wallet from him, leaving him with a smile.

He wouldn't chase you, he already knew where you would go.

Like every night you returned to the shelter where they let you sleep, that night you slept well, when you gave the money to the "Madam" - as everyone called her - she let you sleep in a bed and gave you decent food. She always took in children and forced them to sell candy so they would bring money, if they didn't bring anything at the end of the day they wouldn't eat, but those who brought enough money could eat and sleep well for a week.

The next morning you woke up feeling strangely satisfied. You had brought more money than usual and you hadn't had to run too much to get it. The "Madam" had given you a decent bed and a hot meal, which was a luxury in your daily life. But that feeling of security didn't last long.

As you stepped out onto the street with your box of candy in hand, you ran into the same man from the night before.

Jason Todd.

You didn't know his name yet, but his presence was impossible to ignore. Tall, muscular, and with an expression that seemed a mix of amusement and something more... dark.

–"Morning, little thief"– he greeted you with a sly smile, leaning against a lamppost. I hope you slept well with my money.

Your body tensed. It wasn't the first time you'd stolen, but you'd never encountered someone who came back for what was theirs. Or worse, who seemed to enjoy the game.

–"I don't know what you're talking about" – you muttered, feigning disinterest as you tried to walk away.

Jason chuckled, but his hand moved quickly, catching your wrist with ease. He didn't hurt you, but his grip was firm.

–"Oh, come on. Don't worry about it."

–"Consider it a gift."– He leaned in a little, his voice dropping to a whisper. –"But tell me, do you like that place?"

Your expression hardened. You didn't understand what he meant.

–"I mean, the 'Madam' and her cute way of treating children. Making them work for their own food... that doesn't sound very fair, does it?"

Your stomach clenched. You didn't know why, but something about the way he said it made you feel uncomfortable.

–"It's none of your business"– you muttered, trying to let go of your wrist.

Jason didn't budge. His eyes, a deep blue, shone with something you couldn't figure out.

–"It is. And even more now that I know you're my sister...."

Your breathing stopped.

–"What... what did you say?"– you whispered, feeling the world around you shake.

Jason smirked, as if he'd been waiting for that reaction.

–"Yes. You're my little sister. I looked into it."

–"Don't worry about the details, the important thing is that I found you."

His other hand rose to ruffle your hair with a strange tenderness-. And now that I know you exist, I'm not leaving you alone in this hole.

Your instinct told you to run. To flee immediately. But Jason's grip tightened a little more, as if he could read your mind.

–"Calm down. You don't have to decide anything now."

His smile turned a little colder. –"But I'll make one thing clear to you..."

He leaned in, his breath brushing your ear.

–"If that woman ever lays her hands on you again or forces you to work one more day... I'll cut off her fingers, one by one."

A chill ran down your spine. There was no anger in his tone. There were no screams or empty threats. Just a promise said with the calmness of someone who would really do it without thinking twice.

And for some reason you knew he meant it.

Things went on as usual for the next few days... or at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. But the feeling that someone was watching you never went away. Sometimes, when you turned a corner, you saw a silhouette that disappeared too quickly. Other times, you felt a presence nearby when you were selling candy, as if someone was making sure everything went well.

And worst of all: every time you brought money to the shelter, the Madam would You looked more closely. Something had changed in her attitude.

One night, when you returned after a particularly long day, you found her waiting for you with her arms crossed and a tight smile.

–"You've been bringing too much money lately."– Her voice sounded sweeter than usual, which only put you more on alert. –Who have you been kidding, sweetheart?"

Your jaw clenched. You knew any wrong answer could cost you dearly.

–"I'm just selling well"– you replied calmly.

The Madam clicked her tongue, approaching with slow steps.

–"Don't lie to me. I've seen that man following you. Tall, leather jacket... too well dressed to be a common customer."

Your stomach churned. You couldn't deny the obvious.

–"I don't know what you're talking about."

The slap came before you could react. Your cheek burned, but you didn't make a sound. It wouldn't be the first time this happened, and you knew that reacting would only make her continue.

–"Listen to me, you little shit"– her voice sounded icy. "If you're saving money or if you're thinking of leaving, you'll regret it."

You didn't answer. You knew you didn't need to.

That night, as you lay down on the bed you'd won, fear settled in your chest. Not just because of the Madam, but because you knew Jason was right. You weren't going to last much longer here.

And sure enough, the next day, Jason stopped watching from the shadows and took matters into his own hands.

When you left the shelter, you found him waiting for you right outside, leaning against his bike with a bored expression.

–"Good morning, sis. Ready to move in with me?"

You opened your mouth to refuse, but he just held up a hand, stopping you.

–"I don't want to hear excuses. I know what that witch did to you last night."

His gaze hardened for a moment. –"I made sure she never touches you again."

Your body tensed.

–"What did you do?"

Jason shrugged nonchalantly.

–"Nothing too drastic... yet. I just made it clear that if she tried to hurt you again, she'd lose more than just her fingers."

You didn't know what that meant exactly. You didn't want to know.

But when you looked back at the shelter, you saw the Madam peering through the window, her face pale as a ghost.

Your chest tightened. You didn't want to admit it... but being with Jason seemed safer than staying here.

The days with Jason in his apartment were... strange.

The place was horrible, unkempt and almost empty.

There was no decoration, just some functional furniture and a couple of guns lying around, as if they were decorations. The smell of gunpowder, cigarettes and old coffee permeated the air. Still, everything was in perfect order. Jason had made an effort to clean the apartment because he was afraid that you were allergic to dust.

Still, the real danger was him.

Jason was not normal.

From the first day, he behaved intensely. He wouldn't let you go out alone, always having an excuse to accompany you. He insisted on knowing what you were doing all the time and, if you took longer than expected in the bathroom or kitchen, he called your name impatiently, as if he was afraid that you would disappear.

And when you didn't get an answer right away... well, you'd learned that Jason didn't have much patience

One time, you locked yourself in the bathroom for a few minutes longer than usual because you wanted some peace. You hadn't thought it would be a problem... until you heard a loud BANG and the sound of the door being smashed in.

Jason walked in with his gun drawn, his eyes red with fury and his breathing ragged.

–"What the hell were you doing!?"– he demanded.

Your heart stopped.

–"I... I was just in the bathroom..."

Jason stared at you for a second, then let out a shaky breath.

–"Don't do that. Don't make me worry like that."

And then, without warning, he hugged you.

It wasn't a warm, comforting hug. It was tight, suffocating, almost desperate.

–"You can't leave me alone. Not again."

His words made your blood run cold.

Again.

You had no idea who he was referring to. But in that moment, you knew it didn't matter.

Jason wasn't sane.

And you were stuck with him.

==================================

Thanks for reading.

Interactions and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated.

Regards.🫠

#yandere dc #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #yandere platonic jason todd #yander Jason Todd #x reader #reader insert #yandere red hood

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shanefuckingscott · 3 days ago

Text

Getting drunk with Grayson 🎀

Imagine, getting drunk with Sheriff Grayson 👮🏽‍♀️❤️

Warning: Slight nsfw, Reader is a total hornbag, Grayson is smoking hot

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

You and Grayson have been working hard all week on a case you've been working at. There were reports of thieves that lurked around at night, and went into people's homes. They suspect that the thief was actually from Piltover, and the council did not like that.

You and Grayson walked to the councilors to discuss the matter. They all looked at Grayson to hear her updates on the case. Councilor Medarda spoke, "Well, Sheriff, is there any news about this case?" She asked Grayson, looking down on her. Councilor Hoskel scoffed. "Those filthy undercity brats. How hard is it to find these guys?! Maybe you're just not doing your job well!" He accused, you hated these meetings, you hated going to the councils, but you know it's your duty. Grayson clears her throat, "Who ever these thieves are, aren't just common knuckleheads you find in the under city. No. They're alot more calculated, and the equiptment they used to break in one of the houses was only euqiptment found here. The guards on the bridge did not report anyone cross the night the incident occured."

The councilors scoffed at Grayson, and you held her pinky, to sooth her, while looking down on the floor. Councilor Salo scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Well? Do something about it, that's your job, double the guards if you have to!—" He exclaims. Miss Medarda eyes him, and she sighs, "I want this case dealt with. Immedietly. I don't care what you need to do, but people in Piltover are getting worried by the minute. We cannot have that, understand?" She asks. You and Grayson just look to the floor, "Yes, we understand." And with that, you both left.

When you got out, you look visibly pissed, and rightfully so. The whole week, you and Grayson worked hard. You rarely went home anymore, you both just sleeped on the couch in her office and only went home one at a time to get supplies, like food, toothpaste, instant coffee, you literally worked day an night.

This went on for a couple more days, until finally, you catch them, and out them in Stillwater. When that finally happened, you and Grayson took a few days off, rightfully so, and only did your paperwork at home.

"God, we're finally home, but we're still working" You joke, as you hand Grayson her coffee. She smiled softly at your joke, before turning to face her computer screen again. "I know darling, and I'm sorry. Once we finish this work tonight, how about you and me get a drink?" She offers. You were playfully taken aback, dramatically looking shocked, as you out a hond on your chest, and one faceing Grayson. "Ah! Officer~ Are you asking me out on a date?" You ask, playfully, and she takes your hand to kiss it. She chuckles at you, "Why yes, my dove. Will you go out with me?" ahe asks, as she pulls you onto her lap, so she can kiss your neck. You giggle at eachother, and you pull back to kiss her face.

Work still wasn't easy, even at home, but after a couple hours, you finally finished it all. "Yes! I'm all done for the week, baby look!" You call Grayson, and proudly show her your finished work. She smiles, and kisses your forehead. "That sounds wonderfull, my dear. I'm about to finish up, how about you get in the shower, and start getting ready, okay? Once I'm done, I'll join you, and we can bathe together." You eagerly took her up on that offer, running in the bathroom, as Grayson scolds you a little bit as you do, "Don't run, my love, you might fall!"

You take a nice hot shower, and Grayson joined you halfway through it. She shampooed your hair, worshipped your body, planted kissess in your face, and with that, you feel all the happiness in the world. And suddenly, the weeks of hard work were worth it, if it meant getting to do this with your wife as a reward. You scrub and massage her back, she was visibly tense, but loosened up a little bit. When you both got out, Greyson put on a tan shirt, and jeans, with white shoes. She looks absolutely hot, you can see her muscles filling in her shirt. God, you are so lucky to have married that woman.

You wore whatever u want, (make it appropriate, you're gonna be naked later anyways) You looked absolutely amazing. You wore the necklace Grayson gifted you for your anniversary, and she looked absolutely mesmerized by you. "Like what you see?" You tease her. She chuckled, and reached for your hand. "M'lady" She says, with a little curtsy. You giggle at her, and give her your hand, and she kisses your knuckles. She bring you to the car, and opens the door for you, "My dear, what a gentleman~" You say to her with a wink. and she gets on the driver's seat.

You both get to the bar, it was a calm atmosphere, and Grayson orders you both drinks. You just look at her with a smile, you can't believe this hot sexy woman was truly yours. She notices, and teases you, "enjoying the view?" She nudges you, and you roll your eyes. The beautiful atmosphere of the city, with your most beloved.

When the drinks came, you and Grayson teased, and flirted with each other all night, like you two weren't already a married couple. Grayson is surprisingly good at holding her alcohol. Ater a couple drinks, she wasn't even fazed, she was just calm, and less tensed. "Hmm, we needed this, didn't we?" You say to her, and she looked a little guilty for not doing this with you sooner. "Yes my love, but 'm glad we get to unwind now." She softly smiles at you, and tucks your hair behind your ear. "You look beautiful tonight, my love." She looks at you, she has perfect eye contact. Her finger circling the rim of her glass. You were visibly red now, the alcohol, and Grayson's flirty and deep voice. You're getting kind of hornier by each drink.

"Hon..." You say, she looks confused and a little worried now, "dear? Are you drunk? do you want to go home—" "I want you to fuck me, Grayson." You cut her off. She's visibly surprised, and confused, but her expression quickly changes to something a little darker. She stands up, and reaches for your hand, which you immedietly give. "Let's go home then." She gestures for you to get uo, and she makes her way to her car. She opens the door for you like the gentleman she is, and when she gets in the driver's seat, you immedietly pulls you into a kiss that turns into a makeout session.

"You taste so good, my love." She lets out low moans in the kiss. You smile, and slightly pull away to answer. "Mhm, better be, that's your money." You tease, your breaths so potent with alcohol, you kind of get a little more drunk, the more you kiss her. Your clothes, and hair all messy. You take your top off to reveal your bralette. She pulls away to catch her breath, as she admires the view. and kisses your forehead. "Let's continue this at home, shall we?" You nod, and agree, and get off from her lap, to sit next to her while she drives, and she puts a hand on your leg once in awhile, when she's not using it.

Once you both get home, let's just say she fulfills all your wishes that night. ❤️

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I'm sorry, but HAVE YOU SEEN GRAYSON ON THAT GIF?! Ahem... I kinda wanna be that cup on the GIF, I'm so jealous. 🙄

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holdmytesseract · 3 days ago

Text

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: 18+! MDNI! alcohol, sibling fight, swear words, smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there), smoking?

Word Count: 2,1k

a/n: Is Tess right? What do you think, guys?

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Five 》《 Chapter Seven 》

Chapter Six...

... in which your sister tries to discipulize you - without success - and you instead choose to take another long drag of your drug which is Daryl Dixon.

Angry, quick stomps announced Tess' presence. Unlike you, Daryl did see it coming. His body stiffened beneath you. "Oh, shit. Tha' ain't good," he mumbled, but loud enough for you to hear. His voice was the only sound who did the trick to get you out of your head.

You blinked; refocusing. "Why? What-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence, nor the time to process what was even going on when it was already too late.

"What the actual fuck are you doing here, Y/N?!"

Tess' voice hit you harder than any lightning could. Suddenly you understood what Daryl meant and you froze in place. Your heart leaped into your throat.

Her sharp, critical brown eyes quickly analysed the situation, before she crossed her arms over her chest. "And I've been wondering the whole past week where you went and sneaked off to... Well, now it's making sense," your sister said. Her voice dripped with pure venom.

You swallowed; brain working a hundred miles per hour to find the right words.

"Tess, I-" Your body reacted faster and you stood up from Daryl's lap. He let you and decided on keeping his mouth shut. "It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Tess' eyes widened for a moment. "Oh, it's not?" She said sarcastically. You shook your head. But then she pointed at your neck. "And that hickey there isn't what it looks like either, is it?"

Well, fuck.

Your felt how the blood rushed to your head and caused your cheeks to heat up. You totally forgot about the hickey and were now cursing yourself internally. "Sis,I-" "Don't 'sis' me now, Y/N," Tess growled under her breath and looked around; noticing how several pairs of eyes were already directed on the two - or well, three of you. The guys which whom Daryl had talked to vanished into thin air; walking out of the spotlight.

"We are going to have a little chat now," she said then with a sharp voice. Before you could even say something, your sister had grabbed your wrist and dragged you along. Away from Daryl and out of the bar.

The cool May air hit you harder than you thought. A shiver ran down your spine immediately. On the porch, Tess dragged you off to the side as well; away from prying ears. Her grip loosened around your wrist and she let you go, in order to cross her arms over her chest for the second time. "I am asking you once again and I want an honest answer. No more playing games, Y/N. What are you doing?"

You knew exactly that this wasn't a game anymore. The message had been clear and you had definitely received it...

Swallowing hard, your hands start to fumble nervously with your fingers. "J-Just having some fun..." It wasn't a lie, was it? But not entirely the truth either... "Fun?" Tess asked and lifted an eyebrow. "With that biker hill-billy?" You narrowed your eyes at her and wanted to defend Daryl, but your sister didn't let you. She sighed - almost frustrated. "Y/N, I thought we talked about that? I told you to forget that redneck guy and focus on work and your application for university." "B-But he came back, a-and-" "Why, huh? For you?"

You swallowed again and wanted to say yes, but you knew that his work was the real reason. "B-Because of his work." "See? You already know the answer yourself. Work. Not you." "He didn't know I would be here, Tess! He didn't think he'd see me again, but fate wanted it! This has to mean something! He's not gonna leave me this time! This is more than just sex, I know it!" Tess snorted out a laugh. "You really believe that? Gods, Y/N, wake up. Time to get rid of the rose-coloured glasses. He won't. I know guys like him. All he wants is your body. Once he's had enough and is bored of you, he's gonna throw you away like garbage."

You violently shook your head; hands clenching to fists. "No! That's not true!" Tess took a threatening step closer. "Oh yes, it is! You're just way too blinded by 'love' and especially by making heart-eyes at him. You're too naive and inexperienced, Y/N - and Daryl takes advantage of that. Believe me, I know it. I've seen it before. He's not good for you - and beside that way too old."

"No, you just say that, because you don't want to see me with a man! I am not a kid anymore, Tess! I am a grown woman and I know what I do!" You spat at her and turned to walk away, but stopped halfway to speak up again. "And he's not too old for me! We're barely nine years apart! Age is just a number, and love doesn't care about numbers!"

"Fine!" Scoffed Tess. "Go, get your heart broken! I tried to help, but if you don't want to be saved..." You ignored her words completely and stomped back inside the bar. Your eyes scanned the huge room for Daryl - and you found him right where you left him on that lounge sofa; sipping away on his beer.

With the anger at your sister still coursing through your system, you made your way over to the biker. He saw you approaching and wanted to get up, but you quickly pushed him back down with one hand and took the beer out of his hand with the other; placing the cup on the little table behind you. "Wha'-?" Daryl's confused words faded into a low growl as he watched you climb back on his lap - but this time facing him. With your hands on the lapels of his dark blue shirt, you pulled him in for a passionate - almost obscene kiss.

You weren't thinking straight - but this time it were Tess' words that clouded your mind, combined with the feeling of anger. You wanted to get back at her. Show her exactly how you felt about the biker in front of you and how much you enjoyed Daryl's company. In short, you wanted to rub it in her face. Getting your hands on the man you had fallen so helplessly in love with, was 'just' the bonus.

Daryl grunted into the kiss and couldn't help himself but to let his hands wander to your thighs; palms gliding over the clothed skin up to cover your ass and roughly pushing you further down on his hips. The kiss wasn't the only obscene thing going on between you and him. This little gesture was even worse and actually belonged somewhere else, but certainly not inside a bar...

Daryl seemed to be the first to get his thoughts straight again. He retreated from the kiss with now swollen lips and settled his hands on your hips instead of your behind. It was visibly much to your dismay, but Daryl realised that the both of you had to stop, if you wanted to not get thrown out and barred. Kissing and maybe some light making-out was one thing, but dry humping was another.

"Y/N..." He called out your name with a deep, raspy voice; fingers twitching around your hips. "Why ain't we takin' this to my room 'fore we got kicked out, eh?" A soft red hue spread over your cheeks; only now truly realising what your anger made you do. "Yeah," you nodded and softly bit your lower lip. "But not yet," you stated and pressed a last lingering kiss on his lips, before you climbed off of him and turned around again; now facing the room. "Can't waste the good beer, can we?" You took your half empty cup and took a sip. You saw Daryl smirk in the corner of your eye. "Yeah, guess yer right."

Your gaze scanned the crowd of people then and indeed found the one you were looking for... Your sister. She sat at the bar with two friends, but her eyes were directed at you and Daryl. A frown and visible scepticism, mixed with some worry and anger displayed on her face.

She had seen it.

A small, victorious smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Unbeknownst to you, were Daryl's eyes following yours. "Wha' happened with Tess? Wha' did she say?" His words redirected your attention back to him. You shifted slightly on his lap, laid an arm around his shoulders and let your other palm rest on his chest; feeling the cool leather of his angel-winged vest. "Nothing. It's unimportant. Tess just played her big sister card and thinks she knows everything better." Daryl just nodded while chewing on his lower lip. He said nothing, because he knew exactly how older siblings could be sometimes.

A few hours later, you found yourself on Daryl's lap once again, but this time without any clothes on, and the biker stretched out beneath you. His back was pressed against the headboard. While your palms were splayed on his soft stomach for balance, were Daryl's hands on your hips; guiding your movements. "F-Fuck, Daryl..." You breathed as your fingers twitched against his sweaty skin; feeling the fine dark hairs around his navel tickling you. Throwing your head back, you felt close to jumping off that cliff. The man beneath you could tell, of course. He had a hard time holding himself back. He always had. You were simply a goddess in bed.

Preferably in his bed.

"If ya keep doin' that...," he panted; his fingertips digging into your hips and most likely bruising your skin. "... 'm not gonna last." You shook your head and answered almost whimpering: "Y-You don't have to."

That was all Daryl needed to hear. Planting both feet firmly on the bed and slightly bending his strong legs, he started to meet your movements - which was in return enough to send you flying off the edge; free falling down that cliff. A broken cry of ecstasy was the only sound which was able to leave your lips, before you collapsed against Daryl's bulky frame; still somewhere floating on cloud nine.

The man beneath you followed soon with a low, guttural grunt. His hands and arms went limp and collided against the old, saggy mattress.

The both of you laid there in silence for a long moment; bathing in the aftermath, before Daryl rolled you gently over. "I need a smoke now," he said while moving to stand up; the bed squeaking under his weight. After quickly discarding the used condom, he slipped in a fresh pair of boxers and his bathrobe to at least shield his body a little bit from the cool night air. Then he opened the old, rusty window and lit a cigarette.

You just watched him in silence for a while. Admired the view and saw the smoke billow out from between his lips, while he tucked back a few loose, tousled strands of his long hair.

Even now was Daryl the most handsome man you had ever seen.

You couldn't help yourself but to get up and join him, but not without wrapping yourself up in a bathrobe as well. You didn't plan to catch a cold or something at that open window.

You stepped up behind Daryl and wrapped your arms around his middle. He smiled at you over his shoulder; taking another long drag, before holding the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger out to you. "Ya wan' a drag?" Without hesitation, you accepted his offer - not breaking out into a coughing fit this time. Well, it wasn't the second time he offered you... By now you got used to it.

Daryl smirked at you and took the mouthpiece back between his lips.

You leaned your head against his back then with your cheek pressed against his clothed skin as your palms started to wander. Stomach, hips, thighs... Toying with the waistband of his underwear from time to time. You played a dangerous game - and you loved it.

"Ya should be careful with dem hands, lil' cowgirl... Unless ya wanna get me goin' again," the biker growled lowly under his breath; exhaling a puff of smoke as he turned in your loose embrace to face you.

You grinned and innocently shrugged your shoulders; now gently rubbing his chest. "What if I do?"

Daryl growled and quickly reached inside your bathrobe to give your ass a playful swat. "Lil' minx. Yer way less innocent than ya act." You giggled as your hands toyed with the lapels of his gown. "Which is all your fault and doing, Mr. Dixon. You created that monster."

Tags: @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @imadisneyprincessiswear @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @erebus-et-eigengrau @belitoxx @coleigh-1205-blog @chaoticevilbakugo @dixonsdarkelf @ffsjustletmesleep @lou12346789 @marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn

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piastrw · 2 days ago

Note

carcar virginity 🥹🥹

kink list

this isn’t exactly kinky, but here we go

“Fuck,” Carlos mutters, spreading Oscar open, digging his fingers into the plush of his ass.

Oscar’s hole flutters, tight and untouched, and Carlos feels his cock throb at the sight.

“Can’t believe I’ll be the first one having you like this.” He presses a thumb right against the rim, watching the way it clenches up.

Oscar snorts, face half-buried in the pillow. “What?”

Carlos blinks, not understanding. “What what?”

Oscar lifts his head, turning just enough to glance back at him. “You’re not the first one fucking me, Carlos.”

Carlos freezes. “What?”

Oscar, completely unbothered, tugs Carlos’s hands away and rolls onto his back.

“What what?” he echoes, with a little smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m not a virgin.”

Carlos is still stuck several steps back in this conversation. His mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again. “But—you said—”

“What did I say?” Oscar grins now, watching Carlos short-circuit in real-time.

Carlos is scrambling, trying to rewind the conversation, trying to figure out where exactly he got it so wrong.

“You said—” He flounders, furrowing his brows. “I don’t know, something about—about how you don’t really do this, how you never let anyone—”

Oscar blinks at him, then snorts. “Carlos. I meant I don’t usually bottom, not that I’ve never done it.”

Carlos stares, stomach dropping. Oh.

Oscar’s grin widens. “Oh my god. You thought—” He cackles. “You thought you were taking my virginity?”

Carlos scowls. “Shut up.”

Oscar, absolutely not shutting up, kicks his legs a little where Carlos is still holding them open.

Oscar grins wider, eyes flicking down between Carlos’ legs. “Oh my god, you were getting off on it.”

Carlos scowls harder, but his cock twitches, thick and heavy, betraying him. His face burns. “I was not—”

Oscar cackles. “You totally were.” He shifts, stretching his arms above his head, making a show of the way his body arches. “Bet you were already picturing it, huh? Telling me how good I’m taking you? Making me spread my legs real wide for my first time?”

Carlos groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

Oscar hums, tilting his head. “Do you?” He lifts a leg, bracing his foot against Carlos’s shoulder. “You’re still hard.”

Carlos swallows. And yes, even if he’s feeling a bit humiliated, he’s still hard.

How can he not be? Oscar is still naked beneath him, all flushed skin and stretched out, inviting. His thighs are open, his cock is still hard too, leaking against where it rests at his tummy.

For a moment, Carlos is relieved—at least his dumb little mistake didn’t totally kill the mood.

Then he sees the way Oscar’s smirking at him and realizes—oh.

Oscar isn’t just still into this.

He’s getting off on mocking him. Freak.

Carlos scowls. “Can you shut up? I don’t care if you’re a virgin or not.” He grabs Oscar, trying to flip him back onto his stomach.

Oscar cackles, letting Carlos manhandle him, rolling easily onto his stomach, but he’s still grinning.

“Don’t care, huh?” he taunts, muffled against the pillow. “You so cared—”

Carlos slaps his ass.

Oscar jolts, letting out a surprised little ah that turns into giggles.

“You so deserved that,” Carlos mutters, pressing his thumbs into the soft flesh of his thighs.

Oscar hums. “You did wanna be my first,” he sing-songs, shifting his ass back slightly, teasing.

Carlos groans. “Oh my god.”

Carlos doesn’t even bother arguing anymore. It’s useless. Oscar’s just gonna keep running his mouth no matter what he says.

So he shuts him up the only way he can think of—gripping his asscheeks, spreading him open, and leaning in.

Oscar lets out a sharp, surprised sound when Carlos licks over his hole, broad and wet.

“Oh—fuck.”

Carlos grins against him, pleased, and does it again, pressing in with his tongue, tasting him.

Oscar shudders, tensing under Carlos’s hands, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he tips his ass back more, trying to chase it.

Carlos hums, dragging his thumbs to stretch Oscar open wider, and spits, watching the slickness shine in the dim light before licking into him again.

Oscar makes a wrecked little noise, muffled into the pillow.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?” Carlos murmurs against him.

Oscar shivers violently. “Shut up,” he breathes.

Carlos laughs. “Make me.” And then he presses his tongue in deeper, working him open, fucking him with it.

Oscar actually moans.

Carlos groans against him, gripping his hips tighter, tilting them just right so he can get even deeper.

Oscar is fully melting now, gasping into the sheets.

“Carlos, fuck—”

Carlos hums against him, digging his nails into the meat of Oscar’s ass, holding him in place as he licks him, filthy, groaning at the way Oscar shudders.

"Carlos—” Oscar's voice is shaking, breathless, high. “Oh my god, oh my god—”

Carlos pulls back just enough to press a kiss against his rim, then drags his tongue over it.

“You’re so easy,” Carlos says, pressing a thumb in just slightly, feeling how relaxed he’s getting. “Acting like a little brat one second, falling apart the next.”

Oscar whimpers. “Fuck you.”

Carlos just grins. “I’m trying to.” He slips his tongue back in, and Oscar makes the prettiest, most pitiful noise.

Carlos groans, his own cock throbbing, untouched.

Oscar reaches back suddenly, grabbing at Carlos’s hair, tugging. "Carlos, please—”

Carlos pulls back. “Yeah?” He presses a kiss to Oscar’s lower back, running his hands over his trembling thighs. “What do you want?”

Oscar turns his head, looking at him, flushed and desperate.

“You," he says, breathless.

#there’s some spitting #does that count?#carcar #f1 rpf #kink prompt game

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melancholyfool · 2 days ago

Text

A Thousand Kisses

Pairing: Henry Winter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Henry lay together on the sofa while he reads to you in Latin

a/n: this is a short little piece including one of my favourite poems from catullus so i just had to write henry reading it!

Henry’s voice is steady as he reads, the Latin flowing like a slow-moving river, rich and deliberate. His breath is warm against your temple, each syllable slipping from his lips with the kind of precision that makes you think he isn’t just reading—he’s savouring the words, rolling them over his tongue like a fine wine.

You are curled against him, your head resting on his chest, rising and falling with each measured inhale. His fingers move through your hair absentmindedly, threading through the strands with a slow, almost methodical gentleness, like he’s committing the texture to memory. Occasionally, his fingertips brush the nape of your neck, the briefest ghost of a touch before they return to their slow, hypnotic motion.

"Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus tam cari capitis?" His voice drops, quieter now, like the words are meant for you alone.

You shift slightly, your hand coming to rest over his ribs, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “What shame is there in longing, or what limit should there be in grief for one so dear?” you murmur, translating softly before he can.

Henry hesitates. Not because he doubts your translation—he knows you’re right—but because hearing you say the words, like an echo of his own thoughts, does something to him. His fingers pause in your hair, his touch lingering at the curve of your ear before resuming, slower now.

"Tristia…" you say quietly. “But beautiful.”

He exhales, the sound soft against your skin. “Yes.”

Silence stretches between you, not uncomfortable, but charged. Your fingertips trace slow, absentminded circles against his side, following the shape of his ribs beneath his shirt. His breath is steady, but you can feel the way it deepens ever so slightly under your touch.

“You always read the saddest things,” you say eventually.

Henry hums, a small sound that rumbles through him, through you. “Dulce et decorum est pro tristibus legere.” It is sweet and fitting to read sad things.

You let out a quiet breath of amusement, shaking your head. “That is not how the quote goes.”

He smirks, and you feel it against your hair. “No, but it should.”

You’re about to argue when he turns the page, his voice dropping even lower, almost like a whisper.

"Da mi basia mille…" His fingers ghost along the curve of your jaw before trailing back into your hair. “Give me a thousand kisses…”

Your breath stills. The words are so familiar, yet something about the way he says them feels different.

“Deinde centum.” Then a hundred more.

He doesn’t translate. He doesn’t have to. His fingers slip lower, brushing the bare skin at the nape of your neck, slow and deliberate.

You feel the shift in the air before you feel him move. He tilts his head slightly, and you lift yours, just enough that your nose grazes his jaw. He breathes in, slow and measured, but you feel the way it shudders slightly at the end.

You murmur the next line before he can. “Dein mille altera.” Then another thousand.

His fingers tighten in your hair, just slightly. He exhales, and you feel it against your lips before he even closes the book.

#henry winter #henry winter x reader #henry marchbanks winter #the secret history #tsh fanfic #donna tartt #melancholyfool

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 3 days ago

Text

"I'm just happy that James and Lily are finally together because they deserve it and I love them both"

And that was Remus. The poet that would find the beauty in insignificant things. The kid that believed in happy endings and true love. The kind of person to be happy just because others were happy. How gorgeous was that?

The way he was smiling now made Sirius shiver. But maybe it was because he was dizzy of too much smoke.

Smoking with Remus was his new favorite thing. Not because he wanted to be cool or he actually enjoyed cigarettes. It was because of Remus. A million times Remus.

Because he got to be close to him. Because it was something intimate between them. Because Remus spoke and told Sirius things and he laughed only for him. And Remus was beautiful when he laughed.

"I love James" Sirius declared, taking a drag of his cigarette.

It was easy to love James. It was wrecking to love Remus.

"And Lily?"

Sirius shrugged, making an 'eh' sound.

Remus smiled and shook his head.

Sirius was the idiot that made Remus smile. It had always been like that. Like a bufoon making his prince laugh of how silly he was. Because the prince would never fall for the bufoon.

"I just think that James deserves the best"

"And Lily is not the best?"

Sirius let out some smoke into the night sky.

"Maybe the perfect match for him is somewhere else. Out there. James is just obsessed with Evans"

Remus shook his head "I don't think so"

Sirius looked at him expecting an explanation "Why?"

Remus bit his lip, so deliciously "Because if he's meant for someone else, he would have been over her a long time ago. His heart keeps circulating back to Lily. Over and over. They keep coming back to each other. Over and over"

How did Remus always manage to say smart things and all that came out of Sirius’s mouth was bollocks?

And Remus took a drag of his cigarette in thought. Sirius wished for a second that he was thinking about their similar story. Back to each other. Over and over. And Sirius’s heart still felt the same. It hadn't stop beating for Remus. Never.

"That's ridiculous" Sirius said because, see? He was a scared idiot who said bollocks "Evans just tosses him around like a toy and James is a masochistic who lets her. One day, yes. Another day: 'I hate you'"

Remus's eyes fixed on Sirius. That kind of look that made Sirius feel naked in front of him.

"I know the feeling" Remus whispered mostly to himself, finally looking away.

"What?"

And Sirius was aware of how Remus blushed. The shade of pink that blended well with his freckles. Sirius wanted to be able to count them all and know them by heart.

"You just don't know the feeling, Sirius" Remus cleared his throat "You've never been in love"

Sirius almost laughed. Because the feeling he had always had for Remus couldn't be anything but love. He would sacrifice himself for him. He would go to the end of the world for him.

"And you do, Moons?" Sirius asked trying to hide away his hope.

Remus was quiet for a while, he smiled to himself and spoke : "No... I just read many romance novels"

Sirius giggled. His little nerdy Moony.

"They are very descriptive about feelings and such"

Sirius tucked his head to the side. "Is fiction"

Remus shook his head.

"You are an idiot"

As long as Sirius was his idiot.

"Love?" Sirius scoffed "We are too young for that. We are meant to enjoy life and have fun" he opened his arms to emphasize "Then when we are like thirty or so we will worry about spouses and stuff like love"

He said that because 1) it was his facade, always had been. The idiot womanizer who was too cool to fall in love, and 2) Because it was true. And he wanted as much time with Remus he got before he found someone to settle in. A nice partner that would make him happy.

Sirius’s heart ached at the thought.

Sirius would end up alone. Because nobody would ever stand him. Not truly.

Remus eyes moved around Sirius thinking about what he was saying. He chuckled at the end and shook his head again.

Because Sirius was the bufoon.

"You're an idiot, Pads"

As long as he said it affectionately like that.

Sirius grinned "And you know what is my idea of fun right now?" he raised an eyebrow.

Remus swallowed.

"What can that be?" he smiled.

Sirius scooped closer. He saw Remus's chest breathing rapidly. His cheeks went more pink and his lips parted.

God he loved provoking that on Remus.

Although that was Sirius provoked in people. Desire. He knew he was good looking because of his family's rotten but gorgeous genes.

However that's all that people saw in him. A handsome boy.

And Remus was gay, so he naturally reacted. He closed his eyes waiting for the kiss.

But Remus was not in love with him. Nobody was actually prepared for the train wreck Sirius was.

The second his lips touched Remus, Sirius was doomed. He was intoxicated. He wanted to bury himself onto Remus. Melt with him. Be his and be wrecked by him. Over and over.

Fuck, Sirius was selfish. And he knew Remus didn't feel the same. And he knew someday he would want more than kissing his best friend. And Sirius shouldn't be getting more and more attached.

But he was selfish.

He kissed Remus and tried to pretend he wasn't getting weak in the knees with the mere touch on the lips. And he pretended he didn't saw stars when Remus opened his mouth for him.

And he pretended his brain wasn't whispering: "Mine, mine, mine, mine" and "Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony"

Over and over again.

#They are just idiots pining for each other #Remus is so obvious about how he feels the same #marauders #maraudersera #muggle au #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #best friends to lovers #james potter #lily evans #jily

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secretsmutcorner · 2 days ago

Text

Discovery

1,491 words | The dragon’s toy (sequel to Ready)

Content | NSFWhump, explicit non-con, monsterfuckery, blood, implied fighting/violence

Notes | The elf's circumstances... change.

There was always going to be a timeskip but there's a few nice and whumpy pieces still planned between this and the previous one >:) I'll get to them eventually. Also, I thought I had this almost finished and then I almost doubled the wordcount jdsklfla

Taglist | @i-walk-on-the-dark-side @echo-goes-aaa @scoundrelwithboba @whumpzone @saffitaffi (I don't remember you asking to be taglisted but you did ask about this conitnuation specifically so I'll tag you this time <3 let me know)

Spring arrived for the third time.

That afternoon, the dragon was laying in its nest with its hind legs stretched behind it -- a pose bound to look silly in any four-legged beast, but one that allowed it to slam its pubic bone into the elf's clit with more force as it fucked into them; a torture it sometimes employed when it missed the way they had erstwhile winced and whimpered with every thrust. The elf suffered it like they suffered anything, now: knowing that their pain didn't matter, and without tormenting themself with imaginations of how they would like things to be.

Presently, the dragon paused, buried wholly inside their stretched-out cunt, and started grinding against their battered clit, drawing a wail from them like few things did anymore. They knew the dragon enjoyed the way they squirmed and cried and tensed around it, and that was what mattered. That was what they were for. They were a good little toy, avoiding unnecessary pain by bearing the necessary, serving their function, without a fuss.

That was what mattered.

Soon the dragon came, and without pulling out, relaxed on top of them. Unfortunately this meant its weight was now bearing down on their clit by one sharp bone. But why would the dragon move when it was comfortable? Their fingers dug into the blanket beneath them as they sobbed through the agony, waiting patiently for the dragon to start thrusting for another round, or gather itself enough to toss them aside.

It was several long moments before they noticed something entirely else had caught its attention. Through a veil of tears, they saw its head attentively turned towards the entrance of the cave. It sniffed audibly, then it got up, roughly yanking its cock out of them in the movement.

"Go to bed."

It was unusual, but it wasn't their place to question their Lord's orders. "Yes, my Lord."

They stumbled into their alcove without forgetting their stretching toy; in their dark little corner, they knelt over it and worked it back in, making sure not to touch their clit, which they knew would continue throbbing with pain for hours, if not days. They laid down on their back when they were done, arranging their legs apart as comfortably as they managed. The dragon had desired the additional pressure of another large toy thrust up their ass, and it hadn't removed it; even by their standards, they felt unusually full. They were never comfortable with how far the dragon liked them stretched, the toys pressing into sore spots and bruises and overstimulating anywhere that was naturally sensitive into discomfort, though now they understood they ought to be grateful for the care it was taking; but with two overlarge toys, the worst part was the way they cinched their tissue between them.

Yet they suffered it. This was their life.

They heard the dragon growl like it never had before, the sound vibrating through their bones and sending a shiver through them. Somewhere inside them, a small spark of primal instinct begged to flee, but it found nothing to set alight.

They simply stayed where they were, eyes unfocused on the rocky ceiling above them. It meant nothing.

They didn't even try to make sense of the sounds coming from the front of the cave. They had never heard anything like it, the screams and the roars and the clink of metal, but it didn't matter, even if the volume pushed their heartbeat faster.

It didn't matter. The dragon had sent them away not to witness whatever was happening, and soon, they would receive more orders. Or a new, always-same day would begin, and they would know what was expected of them then.

Eventually, the commotion died down.

They stayed where they were. The dragon knew where to find them, could easily pull them from their resting place even, if it wanted to.

They weren't listening hard, but they heard steps out in the cave--steps, and softer metal clinking. It wasn't the dragon's familiar step, either.

It didn't matter. They were just a toy. It didn't matter who was out there, or how they might use them.

When the steps approached their alcove, they worked themself into a crouch to see a large figure step in front of them. An elf, or more likely, by their broad proportions, a human, or something of the sort. They were large and armour-clad, a sword in their hand, red with blood.

The elf had no doubt whatsoever that they could overwhelm them as easily as the dragon could.

Not that they had any reason to put up a fight.

It didn't matter.

The monster hunter was familiar with the elation of just having taken down another plague upon the earth. A fully-grown dragon, though -- it felt different. A dragon was the peak of any hunter's career.

They were a dragon slayer, now.

They couldn't be getting too cocky too soon -- they still had to secure the lair, make sure there were no traps or minions left that could endanger them when collecting their rewards, or whoever would be sent to clean up the rest of it afterwards.

The cave was full of treasure -- heaps of gold, precious artefacts, even priceless books. They'd known this. Their promised reward had been as much of the dragon's treasure as they could carry. They were sure the royals expected them to make off with an overfilled backpack of gold like the dumb brute they saw them as, but a friend at the Zutira acadamy had tipped them off about some magical tomes that had gone missing. They could barely read, but it would be enough to identify them and bring them safely to the scholars before they could vanish in someone's private collection.

What they hadn't expected was the sacrifice.

They had heard that there had been one, of course, a few years back. They just hadn't thought they'd still be alive.

Yet when they peered into a dark, filthy alcove, they found someone crouching there -- pale in the dark, stark naked and painfully thin, even for an elf. The elf's skin, from the waist down to the thighs, was wholly black and blue; it was only too clear what the dragon had used them for. More bruises blotted their shoulders, and a few were just scattered about.

The evidence of their suffering was gut-wrenching, and it was eerie enough to recognize that they still maintained some of that mythical elven beauty. But what sent a chill down the hunter's spine was their eyes. They were wholly expressionless, vacant.

The hunter had met victims of monsters before -- a vampire's thrall, various mangled corpses. But they could hardly imagine what abuse the poor thing had endured in the years they had spent here, in the dragon's lair. For a long moment, they were struck silent.

Then they realized they were still standing there with their bloodied sword up. They quickly lowered it, although the elf gave no sign of being afraid.

"You're safe now," the hunter finally blurted out. "Are you -- is there anyone else around here?"

"No, my Lord." Their voice was as expressionless as their eyes.

The hunter suddenly realized they should probably stop staring. "Here-" They pulled off their cloak and handed it over before they could think about what they had just heard. Lord?

The elf accepted the cloak and threw it over their shoulders, but made no move to wrap it around themself and cover themself. They just crouched there, looking to the hunter -- not into their eyes, but in their general direction, expecting -- what?

"Can you... walk?"

"Yes, my Lord." They stood up in janky, painful motions, but they didn't hesitate for a moment to walk towards them, as instructed.

The hunter led them out into the main cave. The light of the sinking sun was even more unforgiving, revealing the deep rings under their eyes, the dullness of their silver hair, the strange bump in their otherwise too-flat belly.

It took the hunter a moment too long to realize what it was; then a bout of nausea overcame them.

"You- you can take that out now, you know?"

"Yes, my Lord." Without a flinch, the elf crouched down again and pulled out of their battered body a dildo that looked far too big to ever have fitted in there.

And then another.

The hunter couldn't look.

The dragon's body laid just outside the cave's mouth. They had looked at it with the hatred reserved for monsters before, but now-

They weren't usually glad for the killing. It needed to be done, and they were good at it; that was all. But looking at the dragon now, they felt themself filling with grim joy at its death.

The elf stepped forward on unsure legs. Their eyes were fixed on the dragon, too.

The hunter couldn't begin to imagine what was going through their head.

#whump #nsfwhump #whump writing #my writing #the dragon's toy

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feetlovrpuppygirl · 3 days ago

Text

"One." From my rest, I came back into awareness. My eyes clicked open and my gears whirred. Steam boiled inside my stomach, exiting my body through a hornlike appendage on my head.

"Yes, miss?" I smiled at the woman before me.

"It's just time to wake up, dear." There's a hint of worry in her eyes.

"Oh." My smile falters a bit. "I'll take care of that later."

"I'm not an engineer for no reason, One." The woman chuckles. "It's fine, let me look at it. Haven't done anything practical in awhile, anyway."

I hesitate for a moment, then give in. "Okay, miss. Is it okay if I perform my duties first?"

She shakes her head. "I've meant to crack you open for awhile. I don't know how long it's going to take. We're starting now."

"Okay." Far be it from me to disagree with her choices. It's my job to work here after all.

She led me to the workbench she had abandoned all those years ago, when she had lost her passion. This was a dark comfort that I would only ever admit to my keeper. My original creator lost me because she wouldn't give up the workbench, and I know that miss wouldn't lose me the same way.

She pried my chest open with the flat end of a sccrewdriver, and observed all the moving parts within me.

"Some of your gears are grinding, and your metronome is weighed down by oil. Are there any other issues you've had recently?" She was speaking into my stomach, her voice reverberating inside my brass body. It was strange.

"The gears might be for my neck. I lost motion in that some time ago." Was it with my creator? I can barely remember moving my neck, but I can remember being able to move it when I was first created.

"One, you need to tell me these things."

"I tried to fix them. My arms just... don't have the range of motion required."

"Then tell me." Miss looked serious and sounded frustrated.

"Okay." Next time I would.

Miss left the room for a moment. I sat and waited. It's much less tolerable to be alone when I'm not asleep.

She returned a few minutes later with parts from her room upstairs. "These are very well organized and labeled, One." She cooed. "Good job."

The sudden warmth would've made me blush if I could. "Thanks, miss."

"You always do, I mean, just... sometimes I see what you've done around here and just say 'wow'." She leans down into my stomach again. "I'm gonna pull out your metronome."

Her hand slowed as it emerged from my chest. My mind started to feel sluggish. Her mouth moved rapidly, at a pace I couldn't even perceive as more than a twitching, but I heard the sound, warbled and unintelligible. Everything felt too fast to comprehend but so painfully slow. Her hands moved inside my chest.

A click would be accompanied by a loss of feeling in my arm, which seemed to fall like a feather, before it clanged against my side and I could feel the bounces as it hit my body as mere vibrations. Another click gave the feeling back.

As she clicked something I couln't see back into my chest, time stabilized itself. "...should be feeling better now."

"I am." I tilt my head for the first time in a while.

"Tell me next time." She tenderly closed my chest, concealing my wiring and pipes inside again.

"I will. Thank you, miss." I pull her into a hug.

#Sky City- One

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laurenairay · 3 days ago

Note

omg 6 is SO jarvy coded for your blurbs!!! 😭🤍

6 – “You kissed me.” “You kissed me back.” - Seth Jarvis

836 words.

Ahhh yes thank you Emmie, he fit with this one perfectly!

The morning after the night before. You were slightly ashamed at how groggy hangovers were becoming part of your routine, but considering that you’d only just graduated from college, you figured you still had a few years leeway. Having a little money from your first big girl job had its perks, okay? And if that meant partying after work on occasion and going to bars every week, then you could deal with that.

At least coffee existed to help, anyway.

Waking up today had been fairly manageable – you were a bit fuzzy on memories, but rolling out of bed to shower didn’t make you hurl and neither did your attempts to eat some dry toast while your coffee brewed. It was one of the first things you’d bought with your first paycheck – a decent coffee machine – and right now it was your saviour. Even just the smell alone made you feel a little more alive, and by the time you’d eaten two slices of toast and gotten through half a mug of latte, you could feel the memories of your previous night slipping back into focus.

Last night hadn’t been a trip to a bar, but a gathering – friends of friends. Nothing massive but still a sizeable crowd that let you feel anonymous enough to dance to your hearts content while still catching up with the social crowd you’d found yourself falling into in Raleigh.

Shots with Svechy. Dancing with the Martinooks and the Slavins. Discussing the best Finnish saunas with Jesperi and Sebastian. A kiss with Seth.

You choked on the last dregs of your coffee with that last memory, hurrying to wipe up the sprayed liquid as you coughed to clear your throat. A kiss. A kiss with Seth. With Seth?

Oh fuck.

Of all the nights for alcohol to give you the courage to act on your crush, it had to be when most of his teammates were around. You could only hope that none of them saw you embarrassing yourself, otherwise you’d never be able to show your face again. Although, if your hazy memory served you correctly, Seth had eagerly kissed you back.

But what if he was too drunk to remember it? What if he did remember, but wanted to pretend it didn’t happen?

The sound of your apartment buzzer broke you out of your spiralling thoughts, and it was all you could do to stumble over to the front door.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Seth. I have coffee?”

Oh fuck.

You couldn’t remember making any plans with him but you had a sinking feeling why he’d turned up at your door. There was no point delaying the inevitable, was there? You buzzed him up without a response, quickly running to the bathroom to freshen up and put on a bra, and before you knew it, Seth was walking through your front door.

“One coffee,” Seth announced, offering you a takeaway cup as he kicked off his shoes.

You just smiled, taking a sip and savouring the caffeine and oat milk.

“Thank you,” you mused, leading him into the kitchen.

Seth just grinned, sitting down on a kitchen stool. “I know what you’re like without caffeine,” he teased.

You just stuck your tongue out, making him laugh. As he picked at the label of his own coffee, you stayed silent, sipping on your drink, not willing to make the first move in conversation. If he’d come over, then he must’ve had a reason to.

“So, uh, last night…”

Seth trailed off, looking uncharacteristically awkward. Here goes nothing.

“You kissed me,” he murmured.

“You kissed me back.”

Seth huffed out a laugh as your cheeks heated, nodding his agreement.

“I did,” he acknowledged.

His eyes caught yours, sparkling with mirth as always, although there was a seriousness you hadn’t seen directed your way before.

“Was it a drunken thing?”

“I’m pretty sure we were both drunk?”

Seth laughed again, shaking his head. “I meant more like, was it a spur of the moment drunken mistake kind of thing?”

Ah. Very different. There were two ways this could go. You could either confirm his statement and the two of you would never talk about it again. Or, you could tell him the truth. What choice did you have?

“No, it wasn’t a mistake for me,” you murmured.

His answering grin settled the bubbling anxiety threatening to fizz through your blood.

“Well, that’s good,” you managed to say.

“It is?” he needled, grin teasing.

There was the Seth you’d grown to love.

“Maybe you should tell me what you’re going to do about it, hm?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Two could play at that game. Seth’s pupils blew out, making your breath hitch in your throat as a clear wave of confidence washed over his face. “I was thinking I could take you out. Coffee, drinks, dinner, whatever you want. Just you and me. What do you think?”

You could admire a man who was direct.

“I think it sounds like a date.”

#my writing #seth jarvis blurb #end of january blurbs #seth jarvis fic #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

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bisexualbrainrots · 6 hours ago

Text

Return the Favor

did it just write angst in fluffebuary? yes yes I did, but it's all because of this gifset that compelled me to.

cw: major character injury, vomit, blood.

“Guess I finally got to return the favor, huh?”

Howie smiled at him, one of those smiles that turned him into the brightest light in the room, and grabbed harder at his shoulder as they managed to walk towards an exit point of the building. Howie laughed softly, a healing sound that would normally make him smile too.

But right now all Tommy could focus on was the amount of blood that adorned his friend’s (Could he still call him friend?) face.

Lines that had rolled down the left side of his face, mixing with the dirt and grime. Thankfully, they had discarded anything more serious than a scalp laceration, but it was still worrying.

Tommy will always worry about Howie, no matter what.

“Took you long enough, I was beginning to think we’d always be in debt,” a small cough left his throat after he chuckled, which made Tommy stop dead in his tracks “I’m okay, we probably inhaled a ton of dust in there.”

Everything started at a factory. A fire that quickly turned into a second alarm that called for multiple stations, the 118 and 217 included. Tommy guessed it was luck that picked him for ground work that shift, but Howie would probably say it was fate.

He hopes it wasn’t, because otherwise Tommy couldn’t understand why fate would collapse a story that was clear and bring both of them down, making them fight for their lives.

Fate was confusing.

Tommy sighed and they continued their walk towards safety, the roaring sounds of firefighters signaling where to find them.

“Hey, Tommy… thank you.”

Howie looked at him with a fondness he thought would never reappear, which made Tommy get a funny feeling in his chest. He really didn’t want to start crying in front of Howie.

“I know it was… wrong of me to drop you after Buck—”

“You didn’t drop me Howie, you… you did what any friend would do.”

Howie shook his head, leaning in to get a closer look at Tommy’s face “You were my friend too, Tommy. Still are,” he held the hand that was resting on his waist, giving it a squeeze “I just hope you can forgive me for that.”

He took a deep breath, or as deep as he could when he was holding Howie “You don’t have to apologize for anything, after all—” Tommy’s smile widened as he took in the view of familiar faces, minus one he found out wasn’t in the state anymore, and bumped his hip with Howie to get his attention, pointing with his head “Would you look at that, seems like someone was looking for you.”

He should’ve guessed they’d be in the front lines. Tommy wonders how many protocols and orders the 118 disobeyed to get to them. It must’ve been a ton, but he guessed they didn’t give a damn.

“We’ll always look for each other.”

Tommy loved that about them.

He let go of Howie the closer they got to the rest, and patted him on the shoulder before giving him a gentle push towards the awaited reunion. Tommy stood as his friend was being pulled into a warm embrace by Bobby, Hen and… Evan. They were all so happy, he could even spot tears in Bobby’s eyes that threatened to come out.

They were all reunited again, as they were meant to be. Tommy watched from a distance, a tired but big smile on his face that rejoiced on the family he once had, the family he could've had.

He supposed it was good he was out of the picture, after all, he never truly felt like he belonged anywhere.

Okay, that was a lie, he did belong to a place and to a person, he was just too scared to let Evan belong to him.

He held his hands on his knees, chest heaving, feeling more tired thanks to the adrenaline finally running its course. His chest expanded as much as he could, lungs begging for air he tried to get in as best as they let him.

He could hear his heart in his ears, though he supposed it had to do with the fact that Evan was looking at him, a faint smile on his lips.

A smile that faded as soon as Tommy threw up and fell on his knees.

“T-tommy!”

This is normal, it's just the adrenaline fading, you're okay. You're okay.

He was in fact, not okay.

Tommy wanted to rest so bad, to lay on the ground and take a nap, but his former family around him made it harder for him to let go.

“Tommy, Tommy c'mon look at me, What hurts?”

He didn't even notice the grunts, his ears feeling like he had cotton stuffed in them, unable to listen to anything other than his rapid heartbeat and labored breathing.

He tried, though, the best he could despite the fact that even speaking had become a hardship, “My stomach…” he didn't mention the fact that it had been hurting since he woke up after the collapse, he didn't even mention to Howie that rubble had fallen on him when they fell.

They laid him on the ground, Hen hurried to open his turnouts and Howie did a quick assessment of his injuries. He wanted to get them off him, tell them there was no reason to panic yet, that they had to focus on Howie. But if breathing was already complicated, talking wasn't much better.

A warm pair of hands held one of his and he turned his head, finding Evan and his even warmer smile that any other day would've made him melt. But the fear in his eyes was making it harder.

He wanted to lean closer, to caress his cheek and tell him everything was going to be okay.

That was the idea, until Hen pulled his shirt upwards and everyone seemed to stop breathing at once, Evan's hold tightening.

Bobby barked instructions at someone, saying something about immediate assistance and getting them an ambulance ASAP.

“W-what…” he tried to look and exhaled when he saw his belly. From what he could see, a purple and red puddle had formed on his abdomen, which made sense why it hurt so much “Oh… right, the rubble.”

Howie turned his face to him, the same panic Evan had in his eyes “You had… Tommy, why didn't you tell me?”

He smiled faintly, tired, way too tired “You have… people, Howie… I, I couldn't let you die.”

Howie's eyes glistened, his brows pulled together as he blinked rapidly and got to work, putting on a pair of gloves (When did he get the gloves?) and palpated the area, getting an immediate wince and hiss in response.

“You have people too,” he heard Evan mutter, his head ducked.

Tommy gave him a weak smile. Evan was so sweet, even when he didn’t deserve that from him anymore.

He stroked his hand with his thumb, pretending for one second that Evan’s words were true. Their eyes met, and Tommy gulped when he noticed his ex had begun to tear up. He hated to be the reason behind his tears, regardless of the situation he had found himself in.

“I’ve got a collar,” he heard Hen shout (When had she left?) and in less than 5 seconds the thing was wrapped around his neck, and he huffed in frustration to the restraint he felt because of it.

“This is… stupid… I don’t need—”

“Will you just let us help? Tommy rubble fell on you, you are not okay,” Evan’s exasperated tone made him shrink. An overwhelming wave of emotions rushed through him, which probably showed on his face given the quick way in which Evan’s expression softened “Sorry, sorry it’s just… let us help, please.”

Despite priding himself on the way he would help others without giving it a second thought, he had never been good at accepting help. Even with something so obvious as getting a cold, where help has to practically be forced onto him. With Evan though, he could never say no, his stubborn ass never giving up a fight to help him.

He took a breath and supposed there was nothing he could do, not when Evan was involved “... Okay.” He nodded slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he felt his body being transported into something, probably a gurney.

He was way too tired to care.

“... hey, hey, open your eyes Tommy,” Howie’s voice brought him back long enough to get a feel of the gurney he was resting in. It was softer than he thought, or maybe the sleepiness was making him sink into it better. Whatever was the case, he was comfortable.

“Bu’ ‘m sleepy” he frowned. God he felt like a child again, being woken up by his mother on a school day.

He just wanted 5 more minutes.

“You’ll get to sleep once the doctors have checked you out, baby.”

Tommy perked up at the pet name. He looked for him and found those perfect blue eyes staring at him, his lips turned upwards in an attempt of a smile to give to Evan.

He was enchanted by those eyes. The way all of his attention was one them the first time they got to have a minute to talk alone. He wanted to swim in them, swim in that ocean of sweetness and craziness that called him in. He forgot he didn’t know how to swim though, not until he was sinking down and fearing that he had fallen without a lifesaver.

He supposed that was it, fear. Fear that constantly pulled him into a self-preservation mode, fear that made him sabotage every good thing he ever had, fear that made him unable to tell Evan that he loves him.

Shit, he loves him.

“Baby…” he called out, looking for his hand as they pulled him into the ambulance.

“I’m still here Tommy, I’m always here,” the strong grip of Evan’s hand on his was comforting, just like the movement of the ambulance that rocked him like a baby.

He was feeling cold though.

Tommy took a deep breath and looked at Evan, “I need… to tell you… that I—” whatever words he was meant to say were not there anymore, a sudden stop in his consciousness that had him closing his eyes and closing himself to the world.

The last thing he heard was Howie saying something about their debt.

Maybe fate wanted this, as payback for the strip mall. Maybe this is how it was meant to be. Maybe he was always supposed to die with Howie by his side.

Fate didn’t count on the fact that Evan Buckley, his Evan, would be put by his side too. Didn't count on the fact that he would never bend to its will. It didn’t count on the fact that he was probably on top of him performing CPR by now, not that Tommy was aware of it anymore.

Damn it, he cursed out at fate, Why didn’t you let me say it?

Though he supposed it was fine, at least he wasn’t going through this alone.

He did hope they’d manage to save him on time.

Evan still owed him that beer.

#911 fic #911 abc #911 #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #platonic chimtommy #chimney han #hen wilson #bobby nash #cw vomit #cw blood #I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING #HE WILL BE OKAY Y'ALL TRUST ME

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olteacup-writes · 1 day ago

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i think i'll regret this.

PERCY TOZAKI / GENDER NEUTRAL MC

my attempt at making angst execpt im sick and gave up midway, plus im super tired ::3 note; this is my take on how the break up will go (not confirmed that percy will be the LI that breaks up)

Percy loved you. How couldn’t he? As much as he wouldn’t admit it, you changed his life. You were perfect, his other half. The thing was that you were too perfect, so perfect he didn’t even deserve to be next to you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, you were meant to just be someone he dated. Falling in love with you was never the plan. When the two of you officially started going out he felt like the heavens had sent an angel to love him. You were his dream come true, someone who genuinely loved him for himself. He could’ve been the same dork he was when he was younger and you could’ve loved him. Before Percy could realize he had fallen madly in love with you. The more he started to realize this the more he felt unworthy of you. He had to do something.

The bright light from his phone stared back at him showing an ungodly hour. As much as Percy twisted and turned in his bed he couldn’t stay put. The more he was kept up by his thoughts the more he started to think, thinking alone in a dark room. His thoughts were killing him. He sat up on his bed looking into the darkness of his room. He had to distract himself somehow, grabbing his phone. The lock screen made his heart ache. As cheesy as it was, the picture he saved on his phone was a picture of you. The sight of you made his heart race just as much as it made his heart sink.

As he unlocked his phone and opened his messages he saw a message from you. He hesitated. He stared at the message you sent, shakingly clicking it. A goodnight message, wishing him sweet dreams. You ended the message with a heart and saying that you loved him. It was sent a few hours ago. Look at you, caring for him. He couldn’t do it anymore. He loved you, he truly did. You were the part of his heart that made him feel happy. He loved you so much he knew you deserved better. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know what he was going to do with his life. You did, you were studying to become a lawyer for the sake of helping, he was studying to be a doctor because he was good at it. He was dragging you down. If he stayed with you he would just continue to keep dragging you down.

You were made for great things, but Percy Tozaki? What was he made for? A pretty face with a brain that was put to waste. Standing up he put on his shoes, not bothering to change from his nightwear. He needed to clear his mind. He had to before he went insane. Quietly he made his way out of his room, grabbing his house keys and his wallet as he entered the living room. He checked his phone before leaving the shared dorm.

The night was dark. There was a slight chill in the air but he didn’t mind it. He barely registered that he was cold. His mind was so caught up with different things he had no time to focus on what he was feeling. He exited the building and started wandering around the campus. Percy knew better than to be out this late. His legs didn’t stop though, nor did his thoughts. He stopped suddenly. His whole body had taken him to the place that changed everything. The place that in the light is seen crowded with people, but on nights like these it was empty, not a person to be seen. It was only Percy and his thoughts alone, back at the place he first met you, a pure coincidence that turned into something greater.

Sliding his phone out of his pocket he clicked on his messages. He stared blankly at his phone. Was he really going to do this? Yes, yes he was. You didn’t deserve to put up with him. You weren’t supposed to be someone special. He wasn’t supposed to be this in love with you. He would just ruin your life if you stayed with him. Still he hesitated. How could he tell you everything he was thinking without sounding like a complete idiot? How does one send a text that would ruin everything he had wanted in life? He stared at the screen for a few more moments, recalling every moment he spent with you. He could feel his heart start to race as he grew closer to making his final decision. Without even realizing it his eyes began to slightly water. His movements were wary and slow as he started typing out his words. He decided to leave it short and simple. A quick message that hopefully wouldn’t do much damage.

“i think we should break up. you didn’t do anything wrong, i just don’t think we should stay together anymore. it’s the best for the both of us.”

He wanted to put more, to say everything he had been feeling, but if he did you’d make him feel better again. Just like you always did, fixing any problem he had without even realizing how much of a burden he was, like loving him was the easiest thing. He stared at the screen harder, almost as if he was waiting for something to tell him not to do it, but even if the biggest sign was showing him not to. He couldn’t turn back now, his tears started to overflow. From gathering in his eyes to rolling down on his cheek at an alarming rate. Was he making the right decision? Would you even care if the two of you broke up? Would you want this?

He didn’t allow himself to even finish the thought, because he knew what the answer would be, no. He knows this because he knows you, because he loves you, which is why he needs to do this. To set you free, so with a quick gesture and a pang of regret without looking back he sent his text message. Once he did he made sure to power off his phone and put it away. The damage was done. Now he stood in the middle of the night standing where the two of you first interacted, regret started to sink in. There was no returning though, he just wanted what was best for you. The cold snapped him out of his thoughts. It was late he should return before anyone woke up.

It felt like a long walk. He'd drag his feet with every movement he made. It felt like he was carrying a burden of weight on his shoulders, a weight that seemed so familiar he almost welcomed it home. Once he finally made it back to his room everything seemed off, but he was so tired he hardly cared. He put his phone to charge and remembered what he had just done not even thirty minutes ago, leaving one of the best things that had happened to him in a long while. His body was shutting down though, he’d have to deal with the consequences once the morning sun came. But just before his eyes closed and he would drift into a slumber, he regretted what he’d done.

wow that sucked, please dont beat me up into a pulp ::( srsly tho im so sick and i could barley write a full sentence, but im done yayay (its 3 am and im so tired)

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